The Hero Who Became a Monster Girl Will Never Fall to Evil

Strange.

Did I go a little overboard with my acting?

That pink-haired little girl looks like she’s about to cry because of me, even though she’s a pretty tough kid.

All I did was draw a turtle on her face in front of the Tribunal Knights. It’s not like I tossed her into a goblin den.

Vieya’s hesitation vanished in an instant. After all, this was her first time playing the villain—she had to deliver a perfect curtain call!

She couldn’t allow it to turn into that awkward mess where she wasn’t fully bad yet not quite good either. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to show the terror and despair needed at the end...

“Big Sis, I lost.”

The suppression field dissolved, and Hua Shiyu immediately admitted defeat, pitifully giving in, teary-eyed and looking awfully miserable.

Vieya ignored her, and under the furious glares of the Tribunal Knights, abducted her.

As she left with her captive, Vieya deliberately eased the pressure of the gravity field so the knights could speak.

But the first things out of their mouths left her startled.

“Damn witch, don’t take the Minister into the monster den! She’s still young, she won’t even turn 18 until next month!”

“Croak! If you must abduct someone, take me instead! What’s the point of abducting our Minister, you evil sorceress!”

“Stop! Demon girl, don’t torment the Minister! She’s still just a child!”

Hua Shiyu’s face turned gray with humiliation, her eyes vacant like a colorless stone statue.

Vieya couldn’t be bothered to mock them.

Abduct her, what use is that?

Even goblins know to target the saintess and knight princesses. How could a dignified, highly intelligent slime girl fall short of goblins?

“Minister Hua...”

Vieya pinched the back of the pink-haired shorty’s collar, leaving her limbs dangling. With gravity reduced, Hua Shiyu weighed no more than a sheet of paper, easy to lift.

Once they left the corridor, the furious, red-faced Tribunal Knights suddenly froze as if struck by lightning, then collapsed stiffly to the ground.

Veterans of countless battles, who had survived layer after layer of selection, now toppled as fragile as a line of dominos.

The place fell into dead silence.

The tear-soaked pink-haired girl in her grip began to tremble, though whether from humiliation or rage was unclear.

“Wh-what did you do to them!”

“Not calling me Big Sis anymore, Minister Hua?”

Vieya arched a brow, brushing aside the strands of pink hair clinging to Hua Shiyu’s cheek. Her tone carried a touch of regret as she asked, “Wet? Is it sweat, or tears?”

“What did you do to them...” Hua Shiyu turned her face away, repeating the question.

She knew, deep down, she was only a scholar. She had never held a sword in her life, her body frailer than the average child’s, often bullied for being small, tugged by her braids, mocked, shoved around...

So while her peers played at running and laughing, acting out “Heroes vs. Evil Dragons,” Hua Shiyu never joined. Instead, she would find a quiet place and read.

Books always said: among evil, powerful monsters, strength alone ruled. The weak submitted to the strong, and the strong to those stronger still.

But in her eyes back then, humans were the same—only not so direct, not so naked about it.

Monsters were hateful, and some humans even more so—more detestable than monsters who only knew destruction and killing.

At six or seven, Hua Shiyu was invisible in her family, never {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} daring to complain when bullied outside.

Her parents were pure elitists.

She feared being branded a failure, feared losing “home” as her only refuge.

After all, her siblings were healthier, more gifted, brighter—able to bring her parents honor. She, bringing only sighs and shame, was left as nothing more than a foil, a provider of negligible “emotional value.”

Heh. What emotional value could a little kid possibly provide?

Yet somehow, back then, Hua Shiyu managed.

Caring for others’ moods was far easier than becoming outstanding.

The former only required smothering one’s own needs. The latter, for those without talent, was impossible no matter how hard they tried.

At that time, she thought she would spend her life hiding beneath that fragile “home,” timid but steady.

Until one day, her eldest sister died at a monster’s hands. Their parents shifted all hope onto her second brother.

She remembered her brother as quiet, fond of collecting Hero posters. He always dreamed of becoming a Hero. But after their sister’s death, he stopped collecting altogether.

On the day he killed himself, it was raining.

He came into Hua Shiyu’s room, his face desolate. To the eight-year-old girl he spoke a single line before leaving forever.

“Sorry... so sorry...”

It was the first time in years he had spoken to her of his own accord. Only much later did she understand what he meant.

After her brother’s death, her father cheated, and the “refuge” collapsed completely.

She stayed with her mother.

Without a family, her elitist mother turned neurotic, living off meager alimony, drinking daily. Hua Shiyu not only had to manage her moods but learned to care for her bodily needs as well.

At ten, the money stopped coming.

Her mother began bringing different men home. Hua Shiyu could only hide in the stairwell, curling into corners with a book, shutting out the sounds inside.

The worlds in books were vast, the stories fascinating, the knowledge deep, letting her forget reality.

At fourteen, Hua Shiyu dreamed of entering the continent’s First Academy—Wisdom Tower.

Her mother forbade it. Hua Shiyu quietly put away the invitation letter. Life trudged on unchanged. Until she was sixteen.

One of her mother’s men turned his attention toward her.

One day, the man approached her alone, saying he’d take her away, abandon her mother. Hua Shiyu felt disgust. She smiled and brushed him off, planning to tell her mother, hoping they could leave together and go to Wisdom Tower.

But that day, her mother slapped her instead, eyes brimming with poison.

“You think you’re better than me?”

Clutching her stinging cheek, Hua Shiyu stared in disbelief.

“Mom...”

“Don’t call me that with that dog-like tone, bitch. You’re disgusting!”

Thrown out of the house, Hua Shiyu strangely didn’t feel sad or hurt. Instead, she felt a filling relief in her heart.

The road ahead only grew darker.

An empty black room.

Plop.

Vieya tossed the lifeless Hua Shiyu onto the floor, then crouched down, staring into her pink eyes. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

Hua Shiyu shut her eyes, resigned to her fate, silently praying that outside, Rania would notice the Tribunal’s abnormal state—and hopefully bring along the other Hero.

“Minister Hua, do me a favor. In exchange, I’ll tell you a secret,” Vieya said, kneading the softness of Hua Shiyu’s cheeks as she smiled.

“For example, don’t you care whether those knights are alive or dead? Oh, so you’re a heartless woman deep down?”

Hua Shiyu: #!