Today, I Kill the NTR Author
The web novel I'd been supporting went full NTR drift and started pulling in two thousand monthly subs. Today, I'm going to kill one author. And the reason is utterly reasonable and just. The hack author I'd supported for so long suddenly shoved in an NTR plot twist and then mocked me, his reader, by raking in that cash.
Two months ago.
The blue glow from the monitor filled my cramped studio apartment.
I staggered to my feet in shock, horror, and despair at the illustration on the screen.
A haphazardly placed instant noodle cup tipped over, soaking the blankets piled in the corner.
But I couldn't just turn away from the screen, tidy up as if nothing happened, flip on the lights, and go back to daily life.
That novel—the one that had suddenly plunged into NTR drift—wasn't just some web novel to me.
For the five years it had been serializing... I'd never once stopped supporting it.
I was the reader who'd added it to my favorites and set notifications on the very first day it started, and left a comment too.
Even when it hit around chapter 100 and the author declared no side stories, causing a mass exodus of readers, I didn't waver a bit.
When it dragged on through hiatuses and abrupt cancellations to reach chapter 199, even though I couldn't pay my rent, I donated every last penny I had to the author.
Because the beautiful pure-love wedding scene I'd been anticipating since chapter 1 was waiting in the next installment.
But.
But...
But...
"What the hell is this, author? What... what the fuck is this?!"
My whole body started shaking uncontrollably, even though it wasn't cold.
Arms, legs, chest, jaw—nothing was steady.
Sweating cold bullets, I gripped the sticky mouse.
I started rereading the latest chapter of .
[Episode 200. The End of Pure Love. The Dawn of Corruption.]
The title alone was ominous. Veins bulged on my temples like leeches.
"Huuuuh... huuuuh."
Sobbing, gasping for breath, I slowly scrolled the mouse wheel down with trembling fingers.
[Aaah! Haaang...! Pl-please stop! Lu-Lucian...! We can't do this, I have a husband...!]
It was just text on the monitor screen.
Printed words.
Yet somehow, those words rang in my ears as vivid voices.
[Shut your mouth, you slut.]
And the voice of the NTR bastard I despised most was no different.
Of course, I had zero desire to hear that guy's voice.
But Lucian mocking Sylvia—the next saintess candidate of the Imperial Church, Kael's childhood friend and fiancée, the heroine who'd triumphed over countless rivals in pure love—kept echoing relentlessly in my ears.
Sylvia's panting gasps kept assaulting me too.
[Ah, aaah! It hurts, it huuurts...! No, nooo...! Sir Kael... huuuh, he's coming back from the front lines tomorrow...! Haa, haaaang! Please, not theeeere...!]
Just scrolling the wheel, but my eyes felt like they'd bleed.
Those vulgar, filthy letters burrowed into my eyes, forcibly painting horrific scenes in my brain.
It hurt so much.
But I couldn't stop.
Though I refused to admit it, a perverse anticipation—a dopamine rush from my tofu-soft brain—controlled me.
My dick was hard.
The moment I witnessed Sylvia's naked body and fall—something forbidden for 200 chapters—my crotch swelled in disgusting betrayal.
[Your mouth says no, but your saintess pussy's gripping my cock and won't let go? Kael that pathetic fucker needs to see this shit.]
[No...! Haaah! D-don't insult Sir Kael, ah, aaang! Don't... defile him...! Uuung, huht, aaaah...! Wh-why... your thing, when you're not my husband... my body...!]
I hallucinated Sylvia's sacred silver hair gripped and yanked in Lucian's grubby black fist.
The face of Sylvia, who held the noblest mana in the novel, lost reason bit by bit, oozing only the thick moans of a primal bitch in heat.
[For-forgive me... Sir Kael...! Aaah, my mind, my mind's melting white...! Ah, aaaang! Lu-Lucian, please deeper, deeper... Defile me completely, huht, uuung!]
[Hahahat! Yeah, slut! Pray to your god! Beg for my cum to fill your womb!]
[Y-yes, yes! Lucian-nim's hot red seed... haaaang! Fill the saintess's womb, fuuull, so fuuull...! Aaaaaah-!]
"......"
The instant Lucian came, I spat out what was inside me too.
Of course, it wasn't cum.
Collapsed on the floor, I vomited everywhere.
"Uweeeek, uweeeeeek! Uweeeeeeek!"
Tears streamed down my chin, soaking the filthy linoleum. Five years.
Five years I'd endured just to see that bitch in a wedding dress smiling with Kael, and all the sponsorship money I'd poured in.
And now? Begging for half-demon Lucian's hot red seed? To dirty her womb?
"Uwaaaaaaaaah-!!!"
A beastly scream tore through the tiny room. My vision flashed red.
On impulse, I punched the monitor. Glass shattered, slicing my knuckles. Blood poured.
But the pain in my hand was nothing compared to the agony ripping my chest.
Thud thud thud!
Thud thud thud!
Thud thud thud thud thud!
My heart pounded like it would explode, and my vision plunged into perfect darkness.
How long had I been out?
I picked up my smartphone from the floor with my scabbed, bloody hand. Red crust smeared the screen.
I opened the platform app and started typing a long message to the author. There was still a chance. The novel still had a chance.
Not for that cumrag cheating whore Sylvia, of course.
But there were still plenty of heroines I liked who adored the protagonist Kael.
I poured my heart into it, polite and sincere words to the author I respected.
Tears and blood dripped onto the screen. One minute. Five. Ten. An eternity passed, and finally, a reply from the author.
Reading the reply, something inside me melted into formless sludge. Real life? Slut-ville? Matching tastes?
"Y-you, you, you—FUUUUCK YOUUUU!!!!"
'Fix the plot right now or I'll fucking kill you, you NTR bastard—guess a knife won't pierce your gut?'
I lunged at the computer. The shattered screen reflected my grotesque face, but it still turned on.
I hammered the keyboard. Monitor shards dug into my nailbeds, tearing flesh, but I felt no pain.
Only beastly murderous rage dominated my brain: sever that arrogant fuck author's windpipe.
I smashed the enter key, spewing a reply.
"Hurk, heuk...!"
Sending it, my choked breath exploded out. 'Sent' glowed clearly on the blood-smeared screen.
No reply came. Instead, after one minute: [Blocked by user], a dry system notice.
Blocked by user
"Ah... aaa..."
Perfect dismissal. Total cutoff. Even my life-on-the-line murder threat dismissed as 'raving from an overimmersed web novel nerd', trashed.
"That... fucking bastard... unforgivable."
But I couldn't let it end like this. Trembling fingers navigated to a specific gallery on some site. Blood-smeared prints kept missing touches.
[Title: Academy Hero Author Fucking Bastard (Kill the NTR)]
[Content: Built up pure love for 5 years then golden sun demon barges in and plows saintess womb. Author you fucking bastard refund my money. This is total reader scam right? Looking for people to join petition on platform.]
Posted, and before I could refresh, comments exploded.
I expected the gallery's famous anons to back me up.
But what filled my screen was a nauseating festival of mockery.
"Ah... aaa..."
Couldn't breathe. My sole sanctuary novel. The pure white world I'd given everything to.
But the author went mad for money, turned it into a slut-ville, and the so-called readers clapped and jerked off atop the cesspool.
The smartphone slipped from my hand to the floor. Agonizing pain like something gouging my chest center surged.
"These... fucking... bastards... If only, if only I'd been in that world. I would've kept those shitstains from touching a hair on Sylvia's head—I'd smash and tame the heroines first, bind them to me. I'd be their sole sanctuary!
Thud thud thud!
My heart thrashed like it'd shatter ribs and burst out.
Thud thud thud!
"Kuhuk...!"
Thud thud thud thud thud!
Blood clots surged up my throat, and with an explosive roar, vision plunged into perfect darkness.
If only I could enter it. I'd protect the heroines from those filthy fucks touching a single hair!
But even an overimmersed web novel fan like me knows that's delusion. Pure escapism fantasy.
You can't just jump into a novel world. It's impossible. Fantasy.
So... solve it in the real world, not the novel.
To repay this shitty feeling, my shredded 5 years, reclaim my 'purity'—shove a knife in that bastard's gut for real.
Two months.
Time spent sharpening a kitchen knife for that bastard's neck, blowing my last savings at a PI for his studio address.
In that hellish span, the author exploded in popularity. My beloved world became a perfect cesspool.
Yet... the hack was now the site's top author.
Some called out plagiarism, plot holes, contrived bullshit, but drowned by far more fans, he ignored them.
[Aaah! Knight Captain-nim, nooo...! Without Lucian's mana, my body's going craaaazy!]
[Huaaang! Hero's staff fills less mana than Lucian's meat rod yaaah!]
Not just Sylvia.
Proud Knight Captain Shia slurped Lucian's toes like a bitch; shy genius mage junior turned mana-addicted beast, dorm window open nightly for males.
Update alerts melted my brain.
Knew I shouldn't look, but couldn't stop. Disgustingly, ditching pure love for harem NTR skyrocketed his writing skill.
But today it ends.
I gripped the razor-sharp cleaver wrapped in a towel, standing at the front door.
Prep complete. Can't save the novel girls? Then sever the breath of the scum spewing this poison text.
"Wait... I'll... kill them all and end it now."
Turning the knob, stepping out—
'Vicious Unicorn's' murderous intent has exceeded limits.
Conditions fully met. Grudge sync 100%. Leaping dimensions.
A bizarre mechanical tone struck my mind. The dingy hallway warped; blinding white flash scorched my vision.
"...Huh?"
Mind Reading that Pierces Corruption has been unlocked.
Corruption Training Brand of Absolute Submission has been unlocked.