A Real Man's Secret
A real man who reads romance fantasy. His name was Kim Geundae, twenty-six years old. His hobbies were working out and reading web novels. With the face of a rugged farmhand and muscles bulging all over, his nickname since his school days had been "muscle pig"—a certified power-lifter otaku.
He'd had crushes, of course, but he had been dumped more times than he could count simply because his face was "too scary." Even women who claimed to love the "bear" type of guy recoiled from him in instinctual terror.
"..." Well, that wasn't the important part, so let's set the tragic backstory aside. I had a secret I couldn't share with a single soul: my taste in web novels.
My friends and acquaintances who read web novels usually stuck to hunter academies or traditional high fantasy. But not me. Was I into wuxia, then? Nope. My absolute favorite genre was female-oriented romance fantasy...
Once, a friend had casually mentioned, "Hey, lots of guys read rofan these days!" Emboldened, I confessed to him that I, too, enjoyed female-oriented web novels. The response I got was immediate: "You? Gross." It was deeply humiliating.
Why couldn't a burly, muscle-bound farmhand—a so-called "real man"—enjoy romance fantasy? I didn't want to be ashamed. I wanted to be honest about my tastes. I wanted to join in when people talked about web novels. But in the end, I chose to keep my passion a closely guarded secret. I still couldn't forget the look of sheer contempt and disgust in his eyes...
Even so, there were plenty of reasons why I couldn't let go of romance fantasy. I loved seeing a plucky, hardworking female lead struggle to make a life for herself; it felt incredibly endearing. I loved watching the male leads and supporting characters fall head over heels for the charms she unconsciously exuded—hell, I fell for her too. And when it came to angst-heavy tragedies where the universe conspired to torment the heroine, I sometimes cried tears of pure pity. But more than anything else...
I had a massive soft spot for the villainesses. The villainesses whom every other character branded a "crazy bitch" or a "wicked woman" were, deep down, often the most fragile and pitiful characters of all. Forced into the role of the antagonist, abandoned by everyone, and desperately craving love and attention—it broke my heart. Most of their "evil deeds" were driven by a Crown Prince or a Duke who had broken off their engagement after falling for the heroine, or by parents who used them as mere political pawns. It was a form of sympathy, I suppose. Of course, there were also pure, unadulterated psychopaths. But those weren't villainesses; they were just mentally ill. Well, that's just my personal take on it, anyway.
Today was no exception. I was secretly reading a romance fantasy web novel. It was 7:00 PM, peak rush hour. Squeezed into a subway car packed to the brim with commuters, I had dimmed my phone screen to the absolute lowest setting, terrified that someone might catch a glimpse of what I was reading.
Ah, that one was pretty good too. I wasn't just following one or two stories these days. I frequented multiple platforms, paying per chapter, buying subscriptions, and sending donations. I read everything from the top-ranking bestsellers to the deepest, darkest depths of the unpaid section. Whenever I stumbled upon a hidden gem in the abyss, I would throw donations at the author and send them desperate messages begging them not to drop the series.
My take-home pay was 2.56 million won a month. Half of that went straight into funding my web novel addiction. It forced me to tighten my belt, but as long as I had chicken breast and protein powder, I was perfectly content. I didn't even need a gym membership; I could just do calisthenics in my studio apartment and lift giant plastic bottles filled with water. ...But anyway, that didn't matter.
As I was scrolling through the deepest depths of the novel archives while wedged between commuters, an intriguing title caught my eye: Surviving in a Romance Fantasy Dominated by Villainesses.
Villainesses dominating? The "masterpiece radar" in my brain began to tingle. This is it! This is the one! I tapped the title immediately. The story had seventy-eight chapters in total. The view count on the latest chapter was a flat zero. The first chapter had a decent number of views, but... well, that didn't matter. I trusted my radar.
Trusting my gut, I started reading from chapter one. The content... well, it certainly explained the lack of views. The pacing was dizzyingly fast. The heroine was so incredibly spineless and frustrating that she just got pushed around by everyone. The bastards who were supposed to be the male leads didn't protect her at all; instead, they kidnapped and imprisoned her at the drop of a hat. And their personalities? Every single one of them was an arrogant, ill-mannered piece of trash.
But honestly, more than anything else... the plot was just too cliché. It felt like an old-school Japanese light novel. Usually, modern rofan was about regression, possession, reincarnation, contract marriages, avoiding death flags, or reforming the hidden boss, right? But this author had gone a step further and crammed in every single fantasy trope imaginable. Swords, magic, you name it...
It was a chaotic mess, but strangely enough, I found myself wanting to see how this spineless heroine would survive. I couldn't stop reading. When I got home, I didn't even shower. I skipped my daily "high-weight full-body tear-down" routine to prevent muscle loss, and I didn't even drink my protein shake. I was completely, utterly hooked on a sub-B-grade web novel that literally no one else was reading.
From 7:00 PM all the way until 2:00 AM, I binged all seventy-eight chapters. My eyes were burning with fatigue. The narrative structure didn't even have a proper buildup; it was just crisis-resolution, crisis-conclusion, crisis-resolution on an endless loop. It was suffocating. Disasters struck like a relentless hurricane, throwing the heroine into one life-threatening crisis after another. She got some rewards out of it, but as the story progressed, the world became so overwhelmingly dark and depressing that the rewards felt entirely meaningless.
Even so, I actually quite enjoyed it. The villainesses were incredibly charming. I had already picked out a personal favorite, which said it all. When I closed the latest chapter, the view count ticked up by one. That was me.
Honestly, I had no idea what the author was thinking, writing seventy-eight chapters of this. Was it just a practice run? Still, I really hoped they wouldn't drop it. With that in mind, I decided to appeal to the author's fragile ego.
I poured my heart into that comment. I wanted to make sure the author, who had been writing into a void, realized that a reader like me actually existed. On top of that, I threw in a generous donation of 1,000 coins. I knew how web novel authors worked—they couldn't easily ignore a passionate reader, and they certainly couldn't bring themselves to abandon a story when someone was actively supporting it. No matter how much of a rough draft it was, I knew authors loved their own creations more than anyone. Besides, the sheer dedication and grit required to write seventy-eight chapters with zero readers was incredibly admirable. It was a shame my wallet was too tight to donate more right now, but I resolved to send another 5,000 coins as soon as my next paycheck cleared.
7:30 AM. I got ready for work, preparing to repeat the same mundane routine. I showered, got dressed, and grabbed a convenience store salad for breakfast. I pre-mixed my protein shake to take with me for lunch. My body felt like lead, probably because I'd stayed up until 2:00 AM reading. Forcing my heavy limbs to move, I trudged toward the subway station.
As expected, there wasn't a single empty seat. Wedged tightly among the morning commuters, I pulled out my phone. The first app I opened was Ropanpia, the platform hosting the novel I'd read last night. The story was listed as a daily release, so I checked it first thing in hopes of a new chapter.
You have received a new notification.
I wondered what it was. A promotional event? An ad for a new series? I tapped it with casual curiosity.
Huh? It was a notification from the author of Surviving in a Romance Fantasy Dominated by Villainesses. They must have replied to the heartfelt comment I left. I tapped the notification, which redirected me to the novel's page.
[Author's Note]
Dear RofanReadingBear, thank you so much for reading and enjoying my work. Unfortunately, I had already decided to discontinue the series with chapter 78. I am truly sorry.
"Wait, what?!" My voice boomed through the quiet subway car, instantly drawing the eyes of everyone around me. "Ahem..." I cleared my throat awkwardly, and the commuters quickly turned their attention back to their own screens.
But my embarrassment was the least of my worries. Discontinued? After I just donated and left a heartfelt review? Why the hell did they write seventy-eight chapters in the first place, then?! If they had stopped at chapter fifteen or twenty-five, I wouldn't have bothered donating or commenting. I had only supported them because I felt the author's sheer diligence and affection for their own work in those seventy-eight chapters.
I felt a profound sense of sorrow. My heart genuinely ached at the death of yet another romance fantasy. That was just how deep my love for the genre ran... Still, there was nothing to be done once an author's spirit was broken. Forcing yourself to write a story you no longer cared about would only ruin it. Though disappointed, I appreciated that the author had at least taken the responsibility to let me know, so I left a reply.
"Haaah..." A heavy sigh escaped my lips. Well, it's fine. The world was overflowing with romance fantasies, and there were plenty of other charming villainesses out there. Pushing my disappointment aside, I spent the rest of my day reading updates on other platforms.
Yet, even while working and eating, that damn novel kept lingering in my mind. Surviving in a Romance Fantasy Dominated by Villainesses. It was a masterpiece of pure, unadulterated villainess appreciation. I had especially taken a liking to one of the villainesses, Mycaris. Man, how amazing would it be if I could actually go into that world...?
To be fair, the world-building was an absolute trainwreck, but if it meant I could actually meet her, I would gladly dive right in. That was how perfectly she fit my specific tastes. Nursing a massive hangover of post-novel depression, I somehow survived the workday and boarded the subway home.
Let's check Ropanpia first. The moment I opened the app—
Screeech!
"Ahhh!"
"What's going on?!"
The subway car erupted into a frenzy of panicked murmurs. I froze, my heart leaping into my throat.
The overhead lights flickered violently before dying completely. The train ground to a sudden, jarring halt, plunging us into pitch darkness. Fortunately, after a tense moment of silence, the intercom crackled to life.
"We deeply apologize for the sudden service disruption. Power is expected to be restored shortly. Please remain calm and wait inside the vehicle."
I let out a breath, relieved it wasn't a major accident. Since they made an announcement, everything would probably be fine. But then... I noticed my phone. Neither the Wi-Fi nor my mobile data was working. I didn't care about my commute being delayed, nor did I care that the darkness made my dimmed screen hard to read. But not being able to read my novels? Now that was a crisis.
I looked around to see if anyone else was experiencing connection issues. But everyone else seemed perfectly engrossed in their phones, sending texts and browsing social media without any trouble. It was just me.
"Sigh..." Just as I frowned at the sudden glitch, my phone began to vibrate.
Bzzzzzzzz!
It vibrated so violently I could barely hold onto it. In the pitch-black subway car, my screen began to flash rapidly, strobing with a blinding intensity that made my eyes throb.
Simultaneously, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through my head. I thought it was just a migraine brought on by sleep deprivation, but the agony quickly escalated far beyond a simple headache. It felt as though my skull was being crushed in a vice. My chest tightened, squeezing my heart. My breath caught in my throat, and my vision began to blur.
"Ah... gasp... what is... happening...?"
A few nearby passengers noticed my distress and rushed over.
"Excuse me, are you alright?"
"Hey, are you sick? Do you need help?"
The murmurs grew louder as the entire car's attention shifted toward me.
"My... heart..."
"I'm calling the conductor on the emergency intercom right now! Hang in there!"
"Sir? Can you hear me?!"
"..."
The world spun on its axis. I couldn't even keep my balance anymore. My consciousness rapidly slipped away, plunging into darkness.
Thud.
My knees buckled, and I collapsed face-first onto the cold subway floor.
"Ugh..." Clutching my throbbing temples, I slowly sat up and looked around. "What the...?"
This wasn't a hospital. The architecture was completely foreign, and the room was filled with rustic, handmade wooden furniture that looked like it belonged in a medieval tavern. Strangely, my body felt incredibly light.
I wanted to check my reflection, but there wasn't a mirror in sight. Left with no choice, I looked down at my own body. The massive, muscle-bound frame I had spent years building was completely gone. In its place was a slender, scrawny physique. It wasn't entirely devoid of muscle, but compared to my original self, I looked like a total weakling. No way... Do you have any idea how much blood, sweat, and tears went into building those gains?!
But my lost gains weren't the real issue here. As a veteran, heavy-duty romance fantasy reader, this exact setup was all too familiar. I didn't even need to think twice. I knew exactly what had happened.
I had been transmigrated.