I Surrendered My Villainess System to the Feds

A cold, robotic voice echoed in my skull, forcing me to drug some guy and kidnap an innocent college girl. And right now?

I was sitting in an interrogation room at the precinct, spilling everything to the cops. The detectives stared at me like I was a junkie high out of my mind.

I sneered, dialed the innocent girl's number right in front of them, and spat into the receiver, "You bitch." The moment the words left my mouth, the ceiling burst open like a piñata.

Hundreds of crisp, inkscented hundreddollar bills erupted out of thin air, instantly burying the interrogation table. Chapter 1 "You're the one who called 911?

Who's the mastermind you're talking about?" I pointed at my own head. "I've been hijacked by this thing calling itself Matrix, the 'Villainess System'.

It wants me to bully an innocent, broke college girl and forcefully claim some pretty boy." The detective stared at me.

Dead silence. "Get her a drug test." The toxicology report came back clean—not a single trace of illegal substances in my system.

The lead detective rubbed his throbbing temples and finally decided to grit his teeth and listen to my absurd story. "Uh… do you have any proof that this… 'system' exists?" I pulled out my phone and called Cassidy, the female lead designated by the system.

She picked up. "Bitch," I said. "…Did I do something to you?" Cassidy asked over the line.

Rustle— A few dollar bills suddenly materialized right in front of my chest and fluttered to the floor. "See, Detective?

As long as I bully this girl named Cassidy, the system rewards me. Like with cash." The detective rubbed his eyes in utter disbelief.

They tossed me to a female officer for a thorough strip search, made me change into a fresh set of holdingcell scrubs right in front of her, and then brought me back. "Can you do that trick again?" the detective asked. "You want an encore?" I replied. "Yeah.

That exact thing. Hurry up." I dialed Cassidy's number again. "Bitch," I said. "What??" Cassidy responded, clearly confused. Two more bills materialized out of thin air.

The detectives practically inhaled their coffee. They ran the cash through a bill counter. It was real. Even the serial numbers were unique.

The detectives immediately reported to their captain.

When the captain arrived, he first sent the entire precinct for drug tests, then sat down to enjoy my performance. "Bitch," I said into the phone. More bills rained down.

The captain's jaw dropped. He called his superior.

The superior arrived and dragged the captain off for a drug test. … I raised my left hand and delivered a sharp, echoing slap across Cassidy's face, then immediately grabbed that scalding hot Americano with my right hand and splashed it mercilessly all over her pristine, white designer dress.

I was supposed to be brutally bullying Cassidy, but the girl just had zero backbone.

Faced with my ruthless attacks, she just cowered and whispered, "Blair… the money you slapped out of me, can we go fiftyfifty on it?" By now, a thin layer of cash blanketed the floor around us.

Outside the transparent bulletproof glass, experts from every field imaginable stood with their mouths hanging open. "No abnormal fluctuations detected.

We cannot trace the mechanism of the spontaneous cash generation." "Blair's cerebral cortex brainwaves are deviating from the human norm, but the encryption is unbreakable." Cassidy and I were moved to a classified briefing room.

She was sitting on that side of the table, while I was sitting on this side with the feds.

She pointed at me as I stared blankly at the ceiling. "Why does Blair get to sit over there?" I wagged a finger at her. "I'm a voluntary defector. You're a forced conscript.

We are not the same." Detective Lorraine pushed a file across the table. "Miss Cassidy, are you willing to become a core participant in the 'Villainess Project' and assist us in leveraging this highdimensional system for the benefit of the nation?

We guarantee your personal safety." Cassidy opened her mouth a few times, hesitating.

Detective Lorraine pushed the documents closer to her. "Sign it, and the federal government will fully cover your dad's messy debts, your mom's skyhigh medical bills, and the rest of your college tuition." Cassidy instantly shot up and saluted. "Mission accepted!" Chapter 2 The male lead, Roman, had the looks, the money, and a life smoother than silk.

Bribery wasn't going to work on him.

The feds brought him in for a preliminary chat. "Roman, we're looking at a case involving the attempted manipulation and coercion of a civilian, severe violations of personal liberty, and major federal crimes.

We need your help. Are you willing to participate in our upcoming operation?" Roman scratched his head. "Why do you need my help?

I'm just a normal college kid…" Detective Lorraine crossed her arms. "Here's the situation.

Something calling itself the 'Evil Stepsister System'—or Matrix—has surfaced." "You are its designated male lead.

We want you to play along and complete a few of its missions." Roman rubbed the back of his neck, clearly out of his depth. "Look, why don't you guys just negotiate with this thing and find a new male lead?

Those romantic fiction novels for girls or whatever… they are totally out of my wheelhouse." I glanced at Roman's phone case.

It had a highly sarcastic slogan slapped across it in bold letters: I don't want to do anything but rot in bed. Great. A lifetime of smooth sailing had bred a king of slackers.

Detective Lorraine was definitely going to get rejected. Surrounded by expectant gazes, Roman shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

His eyes darted to the floor as he fidgeted with the strap of his crossbody bag to hide his awkwardness. Hold on. What were those colorful, round little things pinned to his bag?

I suddenly remembered what my high school cousin used to preach to me: Blair, remember this.

If a guy walks around with obscure anime badges on his gear, he is absolutely a hardcore convention otaku! Could it be…?

I shot Detective Lorraine a look, signaling her to let me take the wheel. Swish— I snapped my arm forward into the empty air and retracted it just as fast.

I spread my fingers wide, covering half my face like a mask, then slowly slid my hand down.

I nudged my imaginary glasses up with my middle finger and locked eyes with Roman at a perfect fortyfivedegree angle. "An evil will from the Chaotic Void has cast the Shackles of Condemnation upon you.

We are the Aegis of Order, the Tuners who walk this mundane realm. We have come to purge the parasitic False God clinging to your timeline." "Join us!

The bonds of our destiny shall forge the ultimate CounterSpell and obliterate this dark will once and for all! This is not a negotiation.

This is a Summoning!" After years of forced exposure to my cousin's delusions, I could pull off a solid eighty percent of her act.

Detective Lorraine was still trying to process my terminalstage otaku slang. Cassidy just rolled her eyes so hard I thought she might sprain them. Roman? His pupils dilated wildly.

The sheer excitement radiating off him was impossible to contain.

He sprang to his feet, knocking his chair flat backward onto the floor. "I—I'm in!" … The deadend alley in lower Manhattan, where even the streetlights had been broken for years, reeked of a suffocating, dangerous aura.

It instantly swallowed up the bright, cheerful girl who had just gotten off her night shift.

A heavily tattooed biker thug clamped a calloused hand over Cassidy's mouth and hooked his thick arm around her slender neck, dragging her into the thick, sticky darkness.

Cassidy thrashed, her heels scraping uselessly against the asphalt. Deep inside the alley, more malicious gazes pierced through her thin dress.

Filthy hands reached out from the shadows. Cassidy whimpered. Hot tears slid down her cheeks and soaked her shoulders. And right at this moment?

I was hiding in a blind spot she couldn't see, letting out a perfectly sinister cackle. [ Mission Accomplished. Reward Acquired: "Mind Reader". Duration: 24 hours upon activation.

Allows the host to read the internal thoughts of all individuals within a tenmeter radius. ] The moment this message flashed through my mind, I reached behind my back and flashed a quick "OK" sign to the shadows.

Chapter 3 Detective Lorraine led a massive crowd into the alley. She raised her walkietalkie. "Operation concluded.

All units, initiate cleanup!" "We gave the biker thug a crash course," the stunt coordinator announced. "The kidnapping technique looked brutal, but it wouldn't leave a single scratch." "Cassidy's acting has improved significantly," the directing unit added. "Any interest in signing onto a real film set?" "We rushed a custom skintoned bodysuit," the wardrobe and makeup team chimed in. "Cassidy and the biker thug had zero actual physical contact." The biker thug ripped off his fake stubble.

He popped his pinky out as he scrubbed the makeup off his face. "Biker thug this, biker thug that.

I told you, call me Fifi, your Queen~" he said. "If it wasn't to help out my sweet Cassidy, I never would have chopped off the long hair I spent two years growing, let alone dye it this godawful color~" "We brought in transgender women who just completed their transitions," the medical unit explained. "Their facial features haven't drastically shifted yet, but structurally and psychologically, they are fully female." The first major operation wrapped up flawlessly.

The feds assembled experts from every sector to iron out the operational protocols for the [ Mind Reader ] tool. … The interrogation room. A woman was escorted in by an officer.

She dropped into the metal chair, radiating reluctance. "I already told you I don't know anything. Why do you keep dragging me back here for questioning?

Hey, why does this place look different from last time?" "Who killed Brad? You really have no idea?" the detective asked. "Who knows? He partied hard and slept around.

Somebody probably got sick of his crap and took him out…" One wall away, staring dead at the interrogation room monitor, I instantly activated the tool: [ Mind Reader ]. "It's her boyfriend, Colt.

He ran off to Miami last week to crash with his gangaffiliated cousin.

He left in such a rush he didn't pack enough clothes… They haven't contacted each other in days to avoid suspicion." "He better not be out at a club finding strippers!" Detective Lorraine, standing right next to me, crossed her arms. "You can skip the irrelevant details." An assistant nearby hammered away at a keyboard, logging everything.

The recording equipment hummed softly in the background.

Back in the interrogation room, the detective continued. "What were you doing the day Brad died?" "I think I was home cleaning… It's been a while.

I can't really remember," the woman replied. I translated her thoughts from the observation room. "She was helping her boyfriend clean up the mess.

The murder weapon is a bloodstained claw hammer, buried in the garden of mob boss Salvatore's suburban estate.

His bloody clothes were incinerated there too." "The cops are pretty sharp, supposedly they can trace blood evidence. I can't let them find that estate…" "Alright.

You're free to go," the detective said. "That's it? I'm done already?" "Get moving." We had to get to the next one. The second guy walked in shackled.

He slouched into the chair, radiating absolute, cocky indifference. "Where are the rest of the kids you abducted?" the detective asked.

The trafficker rolled his eyes. "Tch." I read his mind out loud. "That abandoned trailer park down on the Texas border, the one you can't even find on a map.

The merchandise we couldn't sell? You cops aren't taking them back either." "Let them starve to death in the rattlesnakeinfested desert!" "Get him out of here.

Next," the detective ordered. The third was a bald guy. Pure, calculated malice radiating off his features. "Where's the product?

Where were you planning to move it?" Do I look like the talkative type? the bald guy thought. I relayed his internal monologue. "Calabar City in Mexico. Five hundred kilos.

It's the biggest shipment yet." "The buyer is at the underground market in Vegas. Price is locked in.

The transaction is in cryptocurrency, and the cold wallet is with that guy who goes by the code name Viper—Dex." … Chapter 4 I highly recommended the system cap these reward durations at eighteen hours.

That way, I wouldn't have to choke down stale energy bars with black coffee, grinding nonstop for twentyfour hours straight. The only silver lining?

Every major federal cold case from the last decade was cracked wide open. No exceptions. … Roman’s face was flushed red.

He stumbled and collapsed onto a hideous, heartshaped bed smothered in rose petals. Wearing nothing but a silk slip dress, I suddenly wrapped my arms around him from behind.

I trailed my fingertips over his burning Adam's apple, pulling him against my chest, and whispered right into his ear, "Roman… let me help you." Roman let out a ragged, muffled groan.

I ripped at the buttons of his shirt, faking a desperate hunger. My reward was a sharp, stinging slap across the cheek. The redness in Roman's eyes wasn't fueled by desire.

The veins in his neck bulged, his chest heaving. "Get out!" I clutched my stinging cheek and sprinted out of the room, playing the part of a totally heartbroken seductress.

Behind me, Roman's knuckles turned white as he yanked the thick hotel comforter over his head, dealing with his unbearable urges. [ Mission Accomplished. Reward Acquired: "Charm".

Compels the designated target to listen, believe, adore, and obey you.

Duration: 6 hours. ] I grabbed the oversized jacket a tech from the support team handed me and looked at Detective Lorraine. "Mission accomplished." Detective Lorraine led her team straight into the bedroom. "Alright, blast the AC.

Don't let Roman overheat in there." Roman wiped the sweat off his forehead and pulled a clinical specimen cup out from under the covers, handing it over.

A federal agent in a white lab coat fought back a massive smirk as he shook Roman's hand. "Thank you, Mr.

Roman, for your outstanding contribution to the Federal Sperm Bank." Roman pushed his hair back. "By extracting the anchor point that the Evil Will used to imprison my soul through a specific ritual, we drastically weaken its power.

Right?" The agent blinked. "Huh?" Detective Lorraine quickly shoved the agent toward the door. "Ignore him. The kid's got an active imagination.

We don't understand half the stuff he says." In the observation room next door, Cassidy pressed an ice pack against my cheek. "Are you okay?" I thought about it for a second. "I slapped you.

Roman just slapped me.

So when are you going to slap Roman?" "Then the three of us will finally be even." … The [ Charm ] tool only lasted for six hours, so the feds only scheduled me for one operation.

A smuggling town down on the southern border. The abandoned container pier. Two heavily armed factions were locked in a dead standoff.

The tension was thick enough to slice with a knife.

I strapped on a Kevlar vest, pulled a gas mask over my face, and sat in the back of an armored SWAT transport as it rolled straight into the dead center of the silent battlefield.

I grabbed the megaphone and shouted at the heavily armed cartel outlaws outside. "Hey! Boys!

Today is a fantastic day to collect your pensions!" "Drop your weapons right now and cooperate, and we'll process it as a voluntary surrender! Ten years off your sentence!

Rat out your buddies, and you unlock the ultimate plea deal bundle!" "Don't walk away from a deal this good!" Ping— A stray bullet ricocheted sharply off the armored hull right next to me.

Suddenly, massive digital screens rose up from all directions.

On every single screen, a heavily filtered, overly dolledup version of me was winking aggressively at the camera, my eye twitching and my mouth spasming into a forced pout