The End of a Glutton
The sound of a smartphone keyboard echoed through the dark room.
Tap tap tap.
If anyone saw it, they might think some intense debate was unfolding.
“Ugh…”
It was just another ordinary web novel platform.
Thanks to the subscription model, plenty of readers came for the niche stuff instead of mainstream genres.
Especially things like TS stories.
Or, in my case, gender-reversal novels.
Goddammit. I’m getting pissed off again.
Right now, I was in what people commonly call a “mental wound” state.
What even is a gender-reversal story?
It’s a world where men and women’s social positions are completely flipped. A world where just existing as a man gets you head pats and a fat income.
A filthy, desire-packed minor genre dripping with pure honey.
Because I’m the only man.
A world where I seduce women left and right with sexual desires and a mindset completely different from the average male of this world!
How beautiful and happy would that be?
I’d been dreaming of exactly that fantasy while reading the novel today, but—oh no!
I left a comment on the next chapter too.
I’d read about halfway through. The moment the male protagonist got raped by his fellow hero, I slammed the keyboard with a vicious negative comment without hesitation.
That was the problem.
Because the genre was so niche, there was no clear line drawn anywhere.
You’re supposed to take advantage of being a man. What kind of happiness is there in being treated like a woman, stuck at home doing chores?
When I refreshed the page, my comment had received one downvote and a reply.
My fingers moved on their own.
I tapped the profile and hit the block button.
Yeah, I’ll block you.
Gender-reversal readers.
Shortened to “male gluttons.”
Today, once again proudly identifying as a male glutton, I set off to find another work.
Hm? The alarm icon was lit up.
From a reader’s perspective, there was only one meaning.
A reply had come.
The red notification bothered me, so I tapped it immediately.
The nickname looked strangely familiar.
When I went to the chapter, there was an author badge next to it.
It was a reply to my comment about getting railed and eaten by everyone.
Without thinking much, I typed back.
“Huh?”
That was my last memory.
My field of vision had shrunk.
My body felt awkward.
Were my hands always this short? Were my legs always this short?
I looked around.
The state of the house was beyond words.
It was a studio apartment.
One room, one living room, but the contrast was like night and day.
The living room was a complete disaster.
Everywhere except the blanket was buried in trash.
Delivery plastic containers, empty cola bottles, and so on.
On the other hand.
There was one very small room, barely six square meters.
The space that wasn’t even half the size of the living room was decorated cutely and meticulously.
A desk, a microphone, a camera, two computers, two monitors.
Warm-looking wallpaper and all kinds of plushies.
The first thought that came to mind was internet streaming.
And then.
“Ah, ah? What the hell.”
It was my changed voice and appearance.
A clear, beautiful tone. A voice that sounded like it belonged to a professional voice actor was coming out of my mouth in delicate little chirps.
I looked at the mirror inside the room.
“A girl?”
I groped around.
No.
I’d just mistaken myself for a girl because I was short and kind of pretty.
When I felt between my legs, it was still there.
Phew. I let out a sigh of relief and looked back at the mirror.
My eyes grew slightly dazed.
It was pretty.
It was far from masculine.
If this had been a woman, it was pretty enough to stir up lust.
Overall, it had a squirrel-like face.
The bright brown hair and eyes brought that image to mind.
A bob that just barely brushed the shoulders.
Bright, shining eyes of a similar color.
The delicate limbs and soft body lines were enough to make anyone think it was a girl.
Huh? This feels familiar somehow.
I narrowed my eyes while staring at the mirror.
Because a character from my memory had surfaced.
I forced a smile.
The corners of my mouth twisted grotesquely, and the teeth visible through the open mouth were pure white.
This… this…
I’ve seen this character a lot somewhere.
“Heh, hehe…♥”
Ugh. I gagged.
It was truly a stupid thing to do.
Mesugaki… no, since I’m a guy, would it be oscar-kaki?
To think I’d transmigrate into a body like this.
Whoever did this was seriously malicious.
How nice would it have been if I got a 180cm tall, insanely handsome male body instead.
Anyway, the body felt awkward.
Transmigration. Wasn’t that a staple trope in web novels?
The sense of disparity was so severe that I wondered how the protagonists in those stories endured it.
I’m this pretty guy now?
The moment the keyword “novel transmigration” crossed my mind, I let out a groan.
“Ah?!”
Fuck, I transmigrated into a novel!
It probably wasn’t exact, but with a brain as shrunken as my body, I racked my memories desperately.
Getting transmigrated because you left a hate comment was a famous cliché.
Who would’ve thought it would happen to me?
What novel was this again?
I knew it was gender-reversal.
I was literally just reading it. How could I not remember?
I got mentally wrecked by the reverse-rape scene in chapter five…
I left a hate comment and dropped it. If I’d known I’d transmigrate, I would’ve read every last chapter.
Right. It was a hero story world.
A world with superpowered heroes and villains.
I’d transmigrated into the male protagonist of a novel where he gets tossed around by all kinds of heroines.
But there was one problem.
I… I didn’t know who I was.
I wasn’t expecting any special transmigration perks.
But at the very least, shouldn’t I have inherited the memories of the original man who lived in this world?
Isn’t that the standard rule?
When I brought a hand to my chin, the man in the mirror did the same.
Pretty.
I thought about it for a while, but no answer came.
There was no convenient scene where a headache hit me and memories flooded back.
So I opened the wallet.
“…?”
Name: Lee Seha
Date of Birth: December 18, 2022
Rank: F-class (Regeneration Type)
Registration Date: April 8, 2042
A hero?
Me?
I immediately opened the smartphone.
Today was April 10, 2042.
In other words, I had only become a hero two days ago.
And.
The few pieces of information that this pathetic male glutton who had only read up to chapter five knew were…
“Male heroes are rare.”
The gender-reversal novel I’d been reading had strong femdom tendencies.
Male heroes are rare.
It was a common setting in gender-reversed worlds.
In this world, women were generally bigger and stronger than men.
The gender that usually awakened special abilities was female.
The fact that I was special felt deeply moving.
Does this mean I’m going to become an overpowered protagonist?
I thought that for a moment, but the rank listed on the hero card bothered me.
F-class.
It made sense since I had just become a hero.
But the regeneration ability really didn’t sit right with me.
Can you even become overpowered with this…?
Obviously, I hated pain.
The protagonists in novels adapted quickly and fought, but from the perspective of someone who had lived in modern times, I absolutely hated it.
A hero.
Even if it was F-class, the treatment was different from ordinary people.
Then… how strong was I?
I headed toward the front door.
This thing had been bothering me for a while.
[Pure Water]
Six 2-liter bottles bundled together.
Drinking water that came from convenience stores or delivery.
It was placed in an awkward spot blocking the entrance, which had been annoying me.
Yeah. If I’m a hero, I should be pretty strong, right? With that thought, I tried to lift it.
It was an action born from my previous life.
I grabbed the handle attached to the bundle with my right hand.
And lifted.
“Hup.”
Lifted?
“Hup, hngh.”
It wouldn’t budge.
Was there a steel rod driven into the floor or something?
I bent at the waist to check underneath, but of course there wasn’t.
In my previous life, this weight was something I could lift easily.
By simple calculation, it was twelve kilograms.
It used to be part of my daily life to carry two of these in both hands from the convenience store back home.
However.
“Hup?! Why, why isn’t it—?”
I swallowed my pride and tried lifting it with both hands.
Tremble tremble.
My slender arms shook violently.
Because I was holding my breath, strength flooded into my face.
“Nngh.”
It moved.
Just a tiny bit.
It was closer to being slightly pushed than actually lifted.
So this is what F-class hero means.
I had weaker strength than I did in my previous life.
“Ah, agh…”
Was my posture wrong?
I felt pain in my lower back.
From experience, I instinctively knew.
This was going to last a while.
This annoying pain would torment me for several weeks.
However.
“Eh…?”
When I placed a hand on my waist and stretched, it loosened right away.
As if I had never strained it at all.
So this is what regeneration ability means.
My strength is weak.
But I regenerate.
…Can I still become overpowered with this?
While I was staring at my hand, falling into despair.
The smartphone in my pocket vibrated.
[Team Leader Yang Seona]
Who is this?
I have no memory of her?
I worried for a moment about what to do, but decided to answer anyway.
What’s the worst that could happen?
“Hello…?”
[Seha, you picked up? Wow. I thought you blocked me again?]
“…No, I didn’t.”
[Hmm…. So, how’s work going?]
Work?
Hero? Did this body get a sidekick job somewhere?
Because I had no information, my brain spun in all directions.
Then my gaze landed on one spot.
If I had to summarize this house, it was a pigsty and a princess’s—no, a prince’s room.
The answer to my deduction didn’t come from my head but from the person on the other end of the phone.
[You said you were going to stream, right?]
“…Pardon?”
[That’s why I lent you the money. 12 million won.]
Just how much of a pathetic waste of space was this body before I transmigrated?