Night slowly settled over the city. The last traces of dusk faded along the horizon as the moon began carving its path across the vast sky.
One by one, the streets filled with artificial light, preserving a sense of order and safety—a deceptive calm that wrapped everything in its glow.
Among the warm lights lining the street, the figure of a young woman stood out, impossible to ignore. Her long black hair flowed softly, swaying with the night breeze as if moving in rhythm with her steps, framing a face of delicate, perfectly balanced features. Her golden eyes, deep and radiant, reflected a blend of serenity and confidence that lent her an almost majestic aura, as though she walked fully aware that every gaze would inevitably be drawn to her.
If the goddess of beauty truly existed, she would likely be this woman's avatar.
Her smooth, luminous skin contrasted with her surroundings, further enhancing her natural allure. She wore a simple outfit—a fitted white blouse and a short skirt—yet nothing about her seemed ordinary. The fabric hugged her generous curves, subtly outlining a feminine, voluptuous silhouette. The blouse, snug against her torso, emphasized her full bust, creating gentle tension in the fabric that suggested more than it revealed, while the skirt left her firm, well-shaped legs exposed.
Her stockings embraced her thighs delicately, adding contrast that accentuated her femininity and lent her a provocative edge without sacrificing elegance. Every detail of her figure appeared perfectly balanced: sensual, confident, and effortlessly captivating.
Anyone who saw her would assume she was a model—and they would be right. Even before entering high school, she had already stepped into the public eye, modeling for renowned magazines.
She walked calmly, softly humming a song she had been listening to with her friends just moments earlier.
There was no worry or doubt on her face, only a tranquility that made her unmatched beauty shine even brighter.
And yet…
From a distance, someone was following her.
He was a man whose very presence felt unpleasant. His bloated body moved awkwardly, as though each step demanded unnecessary effort. His ill-fitting, neglected clothes looked steeped in a rancid odor one could almost imagine from afar. His greasy skin and shapeless face twisted into a crooked smile barely human, while his small, dull eyes remained fixed on her with sickening intensity.
There was no nervousness or shame in his expression—only a repulsive sense of confidence, the kind belonging to someone who believed he had the right to claim what was never his.
His life had been pathetic and monotonous. He dropped out of school the day he was caught spying in the girls' bathroom, and from then on everything became a slow, resistance-free descent. Part-time jobs never lasted: he was fired again and again for causing trouble, for his uselessness, for his inability to meet even the most basic expectations.
His existence could be summed up as that of a chronic loser—someone who never tried to improve or become a decent person, choosing instead to wallow in self-pity rather than take responsibility for anything.
During those empty days, consumed by mediocre fantasies and women he could never touch, an image caught his attention: a model in a magazine.
It was a false infatuation, an illusion born of misery. When his eyes fell upon that beautiful girl, he was captivated not by love, but by obsession—a sick need to fill his empty life with something that had never been within his reach.
For once in his miserable life, he began to make an effort, devoting all of it to gathering information about that girl.
After a long online search, he finally discovered the young model's name.
Araki Mayumi.
From that moment on, his unhealthy obsession only grew stronger with each passing day.
Until it reached a point where magazine photos were no longer enough.
After a long time, he managed to track down her school and address, taking photos as he watched her walking with her friends or spotted her in various establishments.
Like a slow-acting poison, it only intensified his need to make that girl his own.
In his mind, countless scenarios played out, each one ending with that beautiful girl becoming his partner after realizing he was the perfect man—far better than any of those popular, handsome guys.
That obsession finally exploded the moment she appeared on the cover of a magazine alongside another boy. It was nothing more than a simple collaboration between two rising stars from the same agency, yet to him it felt like a dagger driven straight through his chest.
He knew that feeling all too well—the handsome, popular guy winning over the girls, while he was ignored… once again.
That was the moment when any trace of rationality shattered. He told himself he wouldn't wait for Mayumi to notice his existence; he would force her to acknowledge him.
So that day, he prepared everything he needed to achieve his goal. A pair of ropes. Chloroform. A handkerchief. And enough space in his small, filthy apartment.
Of course, he hadn't thought about how he would transport a girl of her size there, considering he wasn't exactly in shape and didn't even own a vehicle—but those were just details.
And as if someone up above had granted him their blessing, the man noticed Ayumi walking through deserted streets, a place where no one could interrupt them or come to her rescue.
Slowly, sweat dripping down his face, he began to approach her, closing the distance until he was only a few steps away.
The decisive moment came when he saw her turn a corner. That was his signal to act. After this, his life would be nothing but happiness—or so he imagined.
With clumsy steps, he sped up and turned the corner, his breathing quick and uneven, already longing to have her for himself.
But…
"Where is she…?"
The man's eyes darted everywhere, yet the girl had completely vanished.
The street was simple, lined with a few medium-height walls leading to vacant lots—nothing more than a straight path. There was no way she could have disappeared in an instant.
The thought that someone else might have gotten to her first flooded his mind, panic setting in as sweat poured from him.
That was why he didn't notice someone standing right behind him.
"Surprise!" said the girl with an innocent smile, pressing a stun gun against his neck.
"Huhh…"
With a dull thud, his heavy body hit the ground.
Arami Mayumi maintained that cheerful, pleasant expression as she watched her stalker writhe on the ground in pain.
"I thought you'd be ugly, but you really exceeded my expectations. There truly are hideous people in this world."
With complete innocence, she crouched down to look directly at him, while he stared back at her in disbelief.
The man tried to speak, but the electric shock had left him utterly helpless.
"I suppose this is the price of being so beautiful…" She let out a soft sigh. "…ending up with a pig for a stalker."
Still wearing that gentle smile, she shocked him again—not once or twice, but several times, as if she were testing how long the battery would last.
"An attempt to kidnap me is proof of just how popular I am."
With remarkable calm, she emptied the contents of the stalker's backpack.
"You must really be obsessed with me to carry these photos around."
She looked at the photos with disgust; they appeared worn and strangely sticky. For some reason, she chose not to find out why.
-What did this guy plan to do to me? she thinks with a laugh, fully aware of the answer.
A sinister smile spread across her face as she leaned in close to the man's ear, still conscious.
"Tell me something, Piggy-san. What would you do with my sensual body?" She licked her lips. "Would you make me moan in pleasure? Ahhh~ ohhh~ yes~ harder~"
With an expression that didn't match at all the image of a calm, beautiful girl, she mimicked those sounds—sounds that only further excited her stalker. Seeing his reaction, she continued.
"You're so big, Piggy-san~ Mmm~ Much bigger than any other guy~ I think I'll get addicted to you~ Please, make me your woman~ Ohhh~ ahhh~"
Slowly, that gentle, serene smile twisted into something warped and sadistic.
"DID YOU REALLY THINK I'D EVER SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT?!"
Her foot came down hard, grinding her stalker's face against the ground.
"You're a loser. A disgusting creep, obsessed with a beautiful girl like me… though I don't blame you. After all, I'm the most beautiful girl in existence."
She said it while gazing up at the sky, as if proclaiming an absolute truth.
For someone like Mayumi, being adored and acknowledged as the most beautiful was part of her daily routine. Boys flattered her, humiliated themselves, and did anything just to earn a scrap of her attention.
"Unfortunately for you, you don't even come close to my ideal man. Tough luck."
She kept pressing her foot down on the man's head.
Interpreting his muffled groans of pain as a sign of curiosity, she went on.
"My ideal guy? Mmm… He'd have a cynical, sarcastic attitude—someone who understands the worst of people. Someone who avoids social relationships because he sees them as hypocritical and fake, who doesn't pretend to be someone he's not, and who isn't afraid to become the villain if that's what it takes to get results."
She already had that person perfectly defined in her mind.
"And most importantly: he takes care of the house and the kids while I focus on working."
It might have been the fantasy of many young men to meet a girl who wanted something like that… but those words fit far too well with one particular person.
"You probably think someone like that doesn't exist. That someone so rotten and selfish could only come from fiction. Well, you're right. He's a fictional character… someone whose story fascinated me from the very first time I read it."
Her expression changed, lighting up with an almost childlike joy.
"Piggy-san, you should know that sometimes reality can warp and turn fiction into something real. For example, dying and waking up in a new body… and discovering that you now share the world with characters who once existed only in stories."
She wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to contain the excitement spilling out of her.
"What a wonderful feeling!"
Suddenly, that radiant expression turned sinister.
"I have many plans. Many people to meet. And finally, I'll reunite with my ideal guy. But you, Piggy-san… you're not on my list."
She raised an eyebrow and stared straight at him.
"Not listening to a lady is terribly rude," she added, pouting adorably.
She had kept her foot on the man's head the entire time, until his body finally stopped reacting.
Seeing him unconscious, she pulled out her phone and called the police. She reported having seen a suspicious man who tried to attack a girl. With the contents of his backpack as evidence, it would be more than enough to keep him locked up for a while. Her agency might also help reinforce that version of events.
After all, the power of influential connections should never be underestimated.
With nothing else to take care of, she began to walk away. A situation that would have been traumatic for some meant nothing to her; after all, it was nothing compared to what she had lived through years ago.
"I wonder what that idiot is up to. Is he still stuck in that childish, immature mindset?"
Her earlier words also reminded her of her childhood friend—someone with whom she had more in common than she'd like to admit, though it had been years since they last saw each other.
"There's no point in thinking about that guy… though maybe I'll call him one of these days."
Tilting her head, she pulled out her phone and began texting her friends.
"I wonder if Marin and Ririsa will have time to go to karaoke tomorrow…"
Thinking about the next day, she started humming a song as she headed home.