I’m the spoiled, delicate side character in a post-apocalyptic novel. To put the hero in his place, I deliberately ruined the food in my hand. “Bad dog,” I sneered. “Lick it clean for your princess.” The hero, his entire body tense with restraint, took my sticky, cream-covered fingers into his hand. [Affection Points +10] I froze. Excuse me? The System in my head shrieked: “You idiot! He LIKED that!” Later, that same hero—a wolf in sheep’s clothing—would have me locked in a gilded cage, punishing me with the kind of passion born from obsession. He’d hold my ankle in his hand, a feral grin on his face. “Harder, Princess. Beg for it.” 1 It’s day three of the end of the world. The stale bread in my mouth tasted like cardboard and despair. I couldn't swallow another bite. The hero will be back with something better soon, the System soothed in my mind. And get ready. You have a scene coming up. You need to slap him. That’s right. My next line, my next big move, was to slap the male lead. I’d been dropped into a book. One of those gritty, male-led apocalypse fantasies. And I was cast as Scarlett Ashford, the hero’s beautiful, cruel fiancée. The girl who despised him for his low-class origins, who treated him like a dog, and who, in the original story, gets him to break off their engagement before shoving him into a horde of zombies to clear her own path to a more powerful protector. Of course, that’s the moment the hero, Nash Donovan, awakens his ridiculously overpowered Devour ability. It’s the start of his meteoric rise, his journey of revenge and conquest until he becomes a king in the new world order. According to the script, we were still in the early chapters—Nash’s public humiliation phase. He’d just risked his life on a supply run, and the original Scarlett, furious that he hadn't found her favorite ice cream, gives him a resounding slap. Forced to endure it because of some old debt his family owed mine, Nash was supposed to grit his teeth and deliver that classic, chilling line: “The tables will turn, Scarlett. If it weren’t for what your family did for me, you think you’d still be breathing?” Only now, the one who had to do the slapping was me. The scavenging team trudged back into the villa. As I looked up, my eyes met Nash’s. He was tall, all sharp lines and coiled energy. Broad shoulders, narrow waist. Even covered in the grime of the outside world, he stood out from the exhausted group like a panther among house cats. He looked at me with an unnerving chill in his eyes, his thin lips adding a severe edge to his face. Something felt… off. The book described him at this stage as just a regular college kid, not someone who carried this kind of intimidating presence. Now! This is your cue! the System urged. Go humiliate him! Viciously! I screwed up my courage and stepped in front of him, blocking his path to his room. I did my best to glare, channeling all my energy into my almond-shaped eyes, and chirped in my most demanding tone. "Nash. Where’s my gelato?" His Adam's apple bobbed. He gave me a lazy, dismissive glance. "Didn't find any." My right hand twitched, ready for its big moment. But then, he tossed a plastic bag into my arms. "They had these, though. Frozen mochi." I was completely thrown. This wasn't in the script. The System frantically flipped through its virtual pages. You were too slow! In the original text, he did bring back the mochi, but the original Scarlett slapped him before he even had a chance to mention it! Improvise! Humiliate him and get those Degradation Points! My mind was a blank slate. To make matters worse, Nash snatched the mochi back and tore open the package. "Whatever," he scoffed. "Forget it if you can't handle commoner's food." "Who—who said you could insult me with this peasant trash!" The line came to me in a flash of inspiration. I lunged forward, slapped him hard across the face, and crushed the mochi in my fist. The sticky rice and cold cream exploded between my fingers. I lifted my chin, putting every ounce of arrogance I could muster into my voice. "Bad dog," I spat. "Lick it clean for your princess." It should have been a perfect performance. Except for one thing. I’m not built for violence. The slap hurt my hand. Nash’s jaw was like a block of granite. My nose scrunched and my eyes immediately welled up, tiny tears of pain clinging to my lashes. From his perspective, it probably looked less like a threat and more like a pout. The living room fell silent. One of Nash’s friends, Liam, finally broke the quiet. "Seriously, Miss Ashford? It's the apocalypse, not a trip to the mall. Nash almost got his arm torn off by a zombie hiding behind a door trying to find that damn ice cream for you. Even a guy who worships the ground you walk on deserves some dignity..." "I'll lick it." Nash’s low voice cut him off. He knelt, taking my hand in his. He positioned himself between my legs, his knee brushing my inner thigh, every muscle in his body pulled taut. He looked for all the world like a man enduring the ultimate shame. But something still felt wrong. Determined to see the humiliation through, I held the pose, letting him hold my hand. Then I felt it. A warm, wet pressure on my fingertips. He wasn't just licking. He was tasting, his tongue tracing slow, deliberate circles before he drew the tip of my finger into his mouth. A sharp, deliberate bite followed. Just as he was about to move to my palm, I snatched my hand back with a shudder. "You're pathetic!" I squeaked, stomping on his foot for good measure. "You can't even lick properly!" With that parting shot, I fled to my room. Ow, ow, ow! The little teeth marks on my finger throbbed, and no amount of scrubbing would make the red fade. I buried my face in my pillows and had a good, long cry. After a while, I wiped my tears away. "System," I sniffled. "Did I complete the mission? He looked so humiliated, and he bit me to get back at me. That has to count, right?" The System was silent for a beat. Then, a line of text glowed on my mental screen: [Ding—Affection Points +10] "Huh?" I asked, confused. "What does that mean?" The System exploded. "You idiot!" it screamed. "You didn't humiliate him. You turned him on!" 2 I was completely baffled. I couldn't wrap my head around why getting slapped would make Nash happy. Our mission is to DEGRADE him, not to get him off! the System lectured sternly. Next time, you need to be more vicious. Grind him under your heel! My chance came sooner than I expected. At dinner, I stayed in my room, refusing to eat with the others. Soon enough, there was a knock on my door. It was Nash, holding a plate with a steak on it. His apology was delivered with zero sincerity. "Sorry I bit you earlier," he said, his voice flat. "This was the most expensive frozen steak in the supermarket. For you, Princess." This was another deviation. In the original story, he just brought her a cup of instant noodles. She’d responded by dumping it over his head, which led to him going to the villa’s pool to wash up, where he’d stumble upon a great fortune. But now... the rich, savory scent of grilled meat filled my room. My stomach rumbled, loud and insistent. Throwing away a perfectly good steak seemed like a criminal waste. My face must have shown my conflict. A soft chuckle escaped him. That did it. My temper flared. "What's so funny?" I snapped. "You hurt me. You should be on your knees begging for forgiveness!" Nash’s eyes narrowed slightly. After a moment, he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't push it, Scarlett. This isn't a game. Piss me off, and you wouldn't survive a single day out here." He was threatening me. As the hero, he was known for being vindictive. Unfortunately for him, I was the clueless, cruel fiancée. I wasn't supposed to understand subtext. I tilted my head back, channeling the arrogance of a swan. I gave his knee a petulant kick. "Excuse me? I'm a goddamn Ashford. You and all those other commoners are living in my villa. How dare you be disrespectful!" I leaned in, delivering the final blow. "You owe my family, Nash. You owe us everything." A sharp hiss escaped him. His body went rigid, his gaze fixed on a point somewhere below my waist, and he clenched his jaw. Oh my god. Seriously? Is that all it takes? He was rattled. He slammed the plate down on my bedside table, turned on his heel, and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. [Degradation Points +10] Success! I had no idea which part of my tirade had hit a nerve, but finally, Nash felt properly humiliated. I was about to dig into my steak with relish when the System let out a piercing shriek. “No, no, no! The plot is going off the rails! His clothes are still clean! If he doesn't go to the pool, he'll miss his big opportunity!” "Relax," I said, swallowing my last bite of beef with a confident smile. I deliberately dripped some of the steak juice onto my pristine white sundress, slipped on my sandals, and padded over to Nash's room, flinging the door open. "Nash!" I commanded. "Get up. You’re coming with me while I take a bath." 3 Nash’s room was dark. He had his shirt lifted, revealing a set of perfectly sculpted abs and the sharp V-lines that disappeared into his cargo pants. He was just about to unbuckle his belt when I barged in. His eyebrow twitched violently. "Get out." I ignored him, pointing a regal finger in his direction. "And my dress is dirty. You're going to wash it for me. By hand. At the pool." I smirked. "You're my fiancé, Nash. Surely you can handle a small task like that, can't you?" The city's water supply had been cut off since the apocalypse began. The villa had a reserve of drinking water, but for bathing or laundry, the only option was the large, open-air swimming pool outside. To conserve water, everyone else just made do with sponge baths. But I was the delicate, spoiled side character, wasn't I? I gloated to the System internally. See? I humiliated him AND I got him to the pool. Pretty smart, right? The System was silent for a moment. ...Are you sure you're not rewarding him? I didn't understand. A second later, Nash lowered his head, his expression one of perfect submission. "Of course, Princess. Should I wash your underwear as well?" "ABSOLUTELY NOT!" I screeched, feeling like a cat whose tail had just been stepped on. After Nash had heated the water for my bath, I shooed him out of the poolside shower area. It wasn't long before I regretted it. The branches of the trees outside the window scraped against the glass. The single overhead light flickered, the generator struggling. It felt like the opening scene of a horror movie. According to the plot, this is when a mutated zombie was supposed to burst in. Nash would fight it, win, and acquire a Level 3 crystal core, which would unlock the pocket dimension and spiritual spring hidden within his family's ancestral jade pendant. It was the trump card that allowed him to survive after the original Scarlett pushed him into the zombie horde. Remembering that a zombie was on its way, my body started to tremble. "Nash? Are you out there?" No answer. Then, a guttural roar echoed from outside. I scrambled out of the bathtub in a panic, not even bothering to dry my hair. I threw on a silk nightgown, looking for a corner to hide in. In my haste, I banged my knee hard against a bench, the pain bringing fresh tears to my eyes. I nearly cried out. The foul stench of decay grew stronger. It was right outside the door. I held my breath, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard I thought I might suffocate. Just as my lungs were about to burst, the door opened. Nash walked in, holding a washboard dripping with black zombie blood. He looked completely unfazed. "Princess," he said, his voice calm. "Your dress is clean." 4. Systema je to odjelo. The System was stunned. Wait, what happened to my giant, mutated zombie? In the book, Nash barely managed to kill it by using the terrain to his advantage. How did it get one-shotted the second it showed up?! A wave of relief washed over me. I stumbled forward and threw myself into Nash’s arms, burying my face in the solid warmth of his chest. "What took you so long?" I mumbled, my voice thick with tears. I had just bathed, and the scent of my floral body wash filled the air around us. Nash’s Adam’s apple bobbed again, a nervous tick. The bloodlust seemed to drain from his eyes, replaced by something softer. He waited until my sobs subsided before his hand moved to my leg. "How did you hurt your knee?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. I was too embarrassed to admit I'd been scared. I sniffled, trying to maintain my composure. "None of your business. Now carry me back to my room and dry my hair... Ah!" I let out a small gasp as he swept me up into his arms with one arm. I started to struggle, but he tightened his grip around my waist. "Don't move," he murmured, his voice husky. "The floor is covered in zombie blood." I squeezed my eyes shut and went completely still against his shoulder, quiet as a mouse. After the scare, I was physically and emotionally drained. As Nash awkwardly dried my hair with a towel, I drifted off to sleep. My sleep was restless. In my dreams, I sensed Nash trying to leave. I clung to his arm, whimpering, refusing to let go. He made a soft "tsk" sound. The rough pads of his fingers brushed against my cheek. The skin was so soft he couldn't resist giving it a couple of gentle pinches, leaving faint red marks behind. "So damn delicate," he muttered. "Such a little coward. Who else is going to put up with you in this world but me?" Nash retrieved a small bottle from his pocket dimension and dabbed the cool liquid—water from the spiritual spring—onto the scrape on my knee. The angry red mark faded, leaving the skin smooth and flawless. The System had a sinking feeling. Sure enough, Nash glanced toward the window and waved his hand. Dozens of thick vines erupted from the ground outside, silently piercing the skulls of a zombie pack that had been drawn to the villa. With his left hand, he gently soothed me back to sleep. With his right, he casually sorted through a handful of crystal cores of various types, absorbing them all. The power of the Devourer was terrifying. The System let out a silent, horrified scream. Holy crap! Don't tell me the hero was reborn! 5 When I woke up, the System was in full-blown panic mode. The Devour ability is only supposed to awaken AFTER you betray him! His power level is still low, but he’s using it with way too much skill! Something is very, very wrong! I looked into the kitchen, where Nash, wearing an apron, was cooking shrimp porridge for me. The picture of domestic bliss. "He's still doing everything I say," I pointed out. "He doesn't seem like he's been reborn." He’s only cooking for you because you were mumbling about wanting shrimp in your sleep last night, the System retorted. And while you were asleep, you were also groping his abs. It was horrifying. A wave of embarrassment washed over me. I did vaguely remember dreaming I was hungry and reaching for something. Honestly, his abs had felt pretty great. "But after Nash awakens his power, isn't he supposed to be ruthless and vengeful?" I thought back on everything I'd done to him, a growing sense of dread creeping in. "...Why am I not dead yet?" The Degradation meter remained stubbornly at zero. The Affection meter, however, had been steadily climbing. The System fell into a thoughtful silence. Don't panic. He's just pretending to be completely obsessed with you. It's all part of his plan to bide his time. He's playing the long game! The System advised me to stick to the script. My next mission: steal Nash's ancestral jade pendant and use it to blackmail him into being my slave. This was going to be impossible. I was so preoccupied that even the delicious shrimp porridge tasted bland. Nash took the half-eaten bowl from me and finished the rest without batting an eye. Then, he casually made the pot disappear back into his pocket dimension. Everyone at the table stared in shock. Nash's friend, Marco, was practically drooling. "Hey, where'd the porridge go?" Liam asked cautiously, "Nash, man... did you awaken an ability?" Nash gave a noncommittal hum. "Spatial type. I've gathered enough supplies. We head for Haven Base after this." So cool. Such a typical hero move. Except... he had used my spoon! I stared at him, at a loss for words. He finally noticed my gaze. "My apologies, Princess. I forgot to pack extra utensils. You don't mind that I used yours, do you?" he asked, the picture of innocence. Bullshit! He did it on purpose! the System raged. He couldn't sleep last night after you felt him up, so he went and cleaned out an entire supermarket! He has everything in that dimension of his! He even cleared all the zombies on the road out of town! "You... you pervert!" I finally managed, my face burning. I announced that I was giving him the silent treatment. My plan was to sneak into his tent tonight, steal the pendant, and then make him suffer. The SUV had a smooth ride, stopping in a clearing on the outskirts of the city just before sunset. Nash and the others set up tents for the night. Since I didn't have any powers, I got to sleep in the car. The moon was bright, and the sound of snoring already filled the air. I crept out of the car, tiptoeing over to Nash's tent and quietly unzipping it. His eyes were closed, his long lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. He appeared to be fast asleep. "Nash? Are you sleeping?" I whispered close to his ear. When he didn't respond, I relaxed and reached for the jade pendant around his neck, fumbling for the clasp. I realized too late that it was tied in a knot. A dead knot. I should have brought scissors. I sighed in frustration. My fingertips accidentally brushed against his throat. Instantly, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. In one fluid motion, he flipped me onto my back and pinned me beneath him. "Getting hungry again, Princess?" His eyes were dark with a raw hunger, his gaze locked on my lips. He took my hand and pressed it against his chiseled stomach, guiding it lower with a low, knowing laugh. "Changed your mind about me being a pervert?" 6 The summer night was warm, our clothes thin. I could feel the searing heat of his body as if our skin were pressed together. Flustered and furious, I squirmed beneath him. "Get off of me!" I hissed. The wilderness was quiet, and his ragged breaths sounded deafeningly loud. Even with the tent walls, I knew any loud noise would be heard. I bit my lip and forced myself to stay still. He didn't let go. His hot breath ghosted over my earlobe, sending a shiver down my spine. "Not satisfied with my abs, Princess?" he murmured, his voice thick. "Or... were you after something else?" My eyes went wide. It was over. It was better for him to think I was a horny teenager than a thief trying to steal his most prized possession. "I... I just wasn't ready," I stammered, awkwardly leaning in to press my lips against his. I fully expected him to pull away. In the book, the hero was practically a monk. But the moment my lips touched the corner of his mouth, he froze for a split second before his mouth crashed down on mine. He was like a starving animal, fierce and demanding, his tongue prying my lips apart. He kissed me until my whole body trembled and my jaw ached. Tears welled in my eyes as I weakly tried to push him away. "No... stop. I want to go back." He didn't seem to hear me, just grunted against my mouth. Suddenly, I felt something wrap around my ankle. It was thick and rough, and it was trying to slither up under my nightgown. I clung to his shirt, a terrified sob escaping my lips as I started babbling his name incoherently. "Nash, Nash..." He finally stopped, his lips moving to gently kiss the tears from the corner of my eye. "Don't cry. I'll be gentle." "No, it's—it's my foot," I stammered, my body shaking. "There's something on my foot." It was too dark to see. Nash covered my eyes with one hand and, with the other, tore away the vine that had wrapped itself around my calf. "It's nothing. Just a mutated plant," he soothed, pulling me into his arms and patting my back. "Don't be scared, Princess. I'll protect you. Just sleep here tonight." This new world was terrifying. I nodded tearfully, my arms wrapped tightly around his neck, desperate for the feeling of safety. For the sake of my pride, I added in a small, reluctant voice, "But... no more kissing." Nash’s tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth. A long moment passed before a hoarse sound escaped his throat. Exhausted, I didn't care about the cramped, hard floor of the tent. I closed my eyes and fell asleep almost instantly. In a hazy, dreamlike state, I felt as if I were lying on a soft bed. Someone gently brushed the damp strands of hair from my collarbone and wiped the sweat from my brow with a cool cloth.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "385427", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel