The Villainess’s Reckoning

Crack!

The sharp slap echoed with chilling clarity in the wind-whipped twilight.

The silver-haired girl, clad in tattered clothes and barefoot in the snow, clutched her burning red left cheek.

Her eyes, filled with stubborn defiance, fixed on the manor entrance. There, a golden-haired girl in a luxurious Western-style dress stood, retracting her hand with an expression of utter disgust.

It was clear beyond a doubt that the golden-haired girl had delivered the blow.

“The Candace family will never tolerate a thief! Throw her luggage out! Never let her return!”

“But Young Miss Stella, Mylian is your older sister. Besides, wasn’t your necklace already found? If the Master and Madam learn of Miss Mylian’s departure—”

A voice from behind the golden-haired girl offered a plea, but it instantly ignited the girl’s fury and a torrent of curses.

“Anyone who speaks for her can get out too! Why was my necklace in her room?! This is clearly theft! I don’t need a thief for a sister!”

Stella stomped her foot, throwing a furious tantrum. The surrounding maids fell silent, cowering in fear. No one dared to provoke this young lady, whose temper was notoriously vile.

“I’ll leave.”

Mylian, standing amidst the snow, suddenly stepped forward. She took the meager luggage from a maid’s hand, her indifferent gaze sweeping over her sister, Stella.

“What are you looking at?! You parasite leeching off the Candace family, you thief—”

Stella continued to hurl venomous insults, her voice swirling in the wind. But Mylian paid them no mind.

When one’s heart goes completely cold toward someone, superfluous disappointment and pain no longer manifest.

Mylian turned resolutely, stepping into the street bathed in the setting sun. Her lone, receding shadow stretched long as darkness gradually descended, heralded by the heavy snow.

Once Mylian had completely vanished from sight, Stella exhaled a sigh of relief, as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

“Let’s go inside. I won’t have to see that annoying pest ever again.”

Perhaps even the heavens could not tolerate Stella’s arrogance and tyranny. The newly formed ice shards at the doorway caused her foot to slip.

Thump!

“Young Miss Stella!!!”

The maids rushed forward to attend to her, a beat too slow. Stella felt her vision gradually fade to white as distant, unreal memories surfaced in her mind, scene by scene.

Memories of being imprisoned, a caged bird stripped of freedom.

Of being force-fed poison, transforming into a pet whose sole thought was “Master’s favor.”

Of being bound by ropes, a prisoner subjected to wax drips and whips.

Many images flashed by, yet they shared a common thread: Mylian and Stella appeared together in every one.

However, in these visions, Mylian was the high-and-mighty executioner, the master, while Stella had become a pet or a s*ave, her fate utterly tragic.

A striking title suddenly drilled into Stella’s mind.

The Lost Princess’s Revenge Plan Against the Villainess — Game CG Collection.

One of the heroines in this game was named Mylian, and the villainous young lady in the game was named Stella.

“Priest, please save the Young Miss at all costs! I beg of you.”

“Please calm down. Miss Stella has only fainted temporarily. The healing spell has already taken effect, and she is not in any serious danger.”

The priest rose, gathering his staff and potions, and left the room. The head maid, who had remained, gazed worriedly at the bed. Stella’s tightly furrowed brows suggested she was enduring a nightmare, yet no one could help her.

The priest’s healing spell was remarkably effective. Stella awoke not long after he departed.

“No… No… No!”

Stella abruptly sat upright, her scream startling the nearby maid, who rushed to her side.

“Young Miss, do you feel better?”

“How… how could this be?” Stella clutched the fabric over her chest. She looked at the maid beside her, her gaze clearly indicating a need for solitude.

“Yes, Miss.”

The maid bowed her head, quickly retreating with her skirt rustling. Knowing her young mistress’s terrible temper, she dared not delay for a second, lest she be dismissed and thrown out of the manor.

Click.

The moment the door was securely shut, Stella’s tightly furrowed brows relaxed slightly. She let out a breath, then looked up at her reflection in the mirror opposite the bed.

Her golden twintails cascaded like waterfalls, and her aquamarine eyes were as clear and radiant as precious gems. The soft, warm lamplight outlined a lovely blush on her flawless little face, though her cherry-pink lips were tightly pressed, betraying a hint of discontent from her recent nightmare.

This was the face she admired every day, yet now it seemed utterly dreadful!

After hitting the back of her head, Stella remembered everything. She was not originally from this world!

In her previous life, she was an ordinary corporate drone, toiling diligently at a gaming company. But before her performance could improve, she was squeezed dry by an exploitative company’s endless overtime, eventually dying young from overwork!

All that hard work led to nothing. And now, after finally being reincarnated, she still couldn’t escape the clutches of her former gaming company.

The villainess young lady, Stella, in the company’s internally developed game, The Lost Princess’s Revenge Plan Against the Villainess, was none other than her reincarnated self!

This game was no ordinary, mass-market title. Every ending, without exception, involved the heroine imprisoning the villainess. Wax drips, ropes, and bindings were standard procedure. It was a twisted, yuri-themed game, and the villainess Stella was purely the heroine’s toy!

Stella regretted that her memories had returned too late. Her right hand still throbbed faintly, serving as a grim reminder.

According to the original plot, Stella detested Mylian, thus framing her for stealing a necklace and driving her out of the house. Clearly, the current Stella was walking straight into a dead end.

I have to save myself.

Stella rose, disregarding her thin nightgown. She left the room and questioned the maids in the hallway.

“Where is Mylian?”

“Oh, Miss Stella, Miss Mylian has already left.”

One maid informed her of Mylian’s whereabouts, but the other maids’ expressions were perplexed. It was likely the strangeness of hearing “Mylian” from Stella’s lips; normally, she never called her that. “Bloodsucker” was the more common term.

“Where did she go?”

Stella clutched the sleeve of the maid who had spoken. The maid, flustered by the sudden attention, stammered, seemingly weighing how best to phrase her answer.

“Tell me quickly!”

Stella urged the maid. Cutting off the heroine at this critical moment was clearly heading for a dead end! If she didn’t mend their relationship quickly, it would all be over!

“Uh… Miss Stella, we don’t know the exact location. It’s been a long time already.”

The maid finally mustered the courage to speak. Stella, upon receiving this news, was momentarily stunned.

“How long has she been gone?”

“About five or six hours.”

“Ah! This is trouble now.”

Under normal circumstances, Stella should immediately go to reconcile with her sister Mylian, admit her wrongdoing, apologize, and promise to treat her well in the future.

However, Stella had tormented Mylian for years. Any attempt at reconciliation now would likely be misinterpreted as fear of parental punishment, or feigned kindness toward Mylian. Stella had done such things before, and Mylian knew it.

Unable to genuinely win back her sister’s heart, the outcome was inevitably a dead end.

Stella organized the known plot points. She recalled that the Candace family’s basement contained numerous secret arts and magical treasures. Perhaps something there could alter the current situation.

With this thought, Stella headed for the basement. The maids dared not question her, simply allowing Stella unobstructed access.

Time was pressing. Stella quickly retrieved a few items from the basement. After issuing some commands, she rushed into the cold night, hoping to make it in time.

On the sparsely populated street, the biting wind pierced through, and snow sliced across Mylian’s cheeks like knives.

Barefoot, Mylian squatted under the eaves of a corner house. This was the only place she could feel a sliver of warmth.

Through the glass, a family gathered around a fireplace, chatting. Mylian occasionally caught glimpses in her peripheral vision. She envied such beautiful scenes, and her heart swelled with even greater hatred for the golden-haired girl who had slapped her at the door, and for her clumsy, fabricated accusation.

“Stella… I hate you.”

Mylian buried her head in her knees, closing her eyes. She hugged herself and her solitude, until the desolate snowflakes enveloped and permeated her frozen heart.