The villains nailed to the wall believed that the grotesque women being shown to them were intended as a form of visual torture.

Why else would such hideous creatures, who clearly weren’t Mana Awakeners, be dumped here if not to terrorize those hanging like decorations on the wall?

"I’m starving… but just looking at those revolting things makes my stomach churn."

"I haven’t eaten anything, and I already feel like throwing up."

Like Tantalus in Greek mythology, cursed in Tartarus with eternal hunger and thirst, these villains nailed to the walls suffered constant hunger and thirst.

And now, the horrifying "visual memes" they were forced to witness only made it worse.

"What… what the hell are those lunatics even saying?"

"WAHHH! I’m going to sue! I’ll sue all of you! This is all because of those male pigs!"

"I’m being targeted because I’m a woman! BECAUSE I’M A WOMAN!"

"Ugh, seriously. Who even considers that a woman?"

One villain nailed to the wall delivered a dry remark, causing the female members of the activist group—already insecure about their appearances—to erupt with anger.

"This is all because of male pigs discriminating against women!"

"Y-Yeah! It’s because they discriminate against us as women!"

"When I get out, I’m posting this all over Twitter! AHHHHHH!"

"AAAAAHHH! DAMN IT! I HATE THIS! WHY AM I STUCK HERE WITH THESE MALE BASTARDS?"

The screeching women, now flailing wildly, were soon slammed against the walls. Their bodies were forcibly nailed in place, prompting more agonized screams.

"AAAAAHHHHH! IT HURTS! AAAAHHH!"

"MOM! HELP MEEE!"

"YOU MALE BASTARDS! Stop just watching and help me!"

"If you’re real men, you should save me, even if you’re nailed to the wall!"

Amidst the onslaught of absurd complaints, one of the villains on the wall sighed and muttered in disbelief.

"I’ve never regretted being a villain before… but after seeing them, I regret it now."

Another villain immediately followed up.

"Damn it, what are those pig bitches even yapping about?"

"If I could move, the first thing I’d do is kill every single one of those pigs. Damn it."

The villains now found themselves regretting their past choices—not out of guilt, but because they hadn’t killed these women sooner.

It was baffling, even to their villainous eyes, how just looking at them could inspire such murderous intent.

Was this what people called the ultimate "visual nightmare"?

"AAAAHHHH! WHAT THE HELL ARE THESE MALE PIGS SAYING?"

"Those damn male bastards should just go kill themselves!"

"Why do I have to suffer just because I’m a woman? This is something those male pigs should be enduring! Why aren’t you sacrificing yourselves for me?"

Their bodies, laden with thick layers of flesh, made it difficult for the nails to pierce through. Yet, the automated nails succeeded in pinning the activist members to the walls alongside the villains.

"AAAAHHHH! DAMN IT! IT HURTS! WAAAAH, MOM!"

"Where’s my dad? He should be saving me! If you’re a man, you should save me! Sacrifice yourself for me!"

***

The villains' ultimate fate was to live in perpetual hunger, thirst, and pain.

Meanwhile, the researchers who had experimented on me were now experiencing similar, repeated tortures, endlessly living in their personal hells.

"At least those women will lose some weight here," I remarked.

The female activist members, now hung as decorations on the walls, would be forced into a kind of "mandatory diet."

But no matter how much they starved, they wouldn’t die. I had made sure this hell would continue indefinitely.

Here, even if their heads were severed, they wouldn’t die. The severed parts would simply fuse back together, forcing them to endure their suffering endlessly.

"This is the perfect ending for villains."

No peaceful death, just endless agony and forced survival.

That was what suited villains best.

Five years ago, I wasn’t even a villain—just a ten-year-old boy. Yet, thanks to my oh-so-great biological parents, I was sold off and thrown into unimaginable torment, praying for someone to end my life.

Back then, I thought if I could avoid abuse, I could endure discrimination, I recalled bitterly.

I had grown used to discrimination, accepting it, which eventually led to that miserable end.

When I was driven to the point where I yearned for death more than life, I prayed for death. But after being cast into the dimensional rift and finding freedom, I realized what I truly wanted.

I wanted revenge. I wanted to destroy the people who had caused me pain and watch everything they had built crumble into nothing.

Baek Hyung-won, Kim Yoo-jung, and even Baek Seo-jin—they would fall when their happiness reached its peak.

As for these villains, the activist members, this was their "peak happiness."

The same people who had gleefully trampled others now screamed and sobbed, unable to accept the misery that had befallen them.

Within less than an hour, they were crying and begging for their lives, their defiance replaced with pitiful desperation.

"Funny how they were so enthusiastic when it came to hurting others, yet they can’t endure a fraction of what they dished out."

Ramisa, draped across my shoulders, chimed in.

"Such frail creatures. It’s fascinating how humans can be so cruel to their own kind."

"That’s just how they are. They justify it when they’re the ones inflicting pain, but as soon as they’re on the receiving end, they crumble completely."

I couldn’t understand how anyone could live that way. Even as a fellow human, I found them incomprehensibly repugnant.

The villains who had been captured earlier, followers of So Kang-seok now nailed to the walls, were easier to understand by comparison.

Even they were cursing the new arrivals and lamenting their past decisions, berating themselves for not finding and killing these people earlier.

"The villains can stay here in Somalia indefinitely," I muttered.

With the villains taken care of, my next target was Baek Hyung-won and Kim Yoo-jung, along with the Baekho Guild they ran.

Despite orchestrating all of this, the Baekho Guild was still standing as one of the top ten guilds because its complete dissolution would have been inconvenient.

However, a quick glance at the internet showed they were being mercilessly lambasted by public opinion.

***

"Why?"

Baek Seo-jin couldn’t believe the flood of criticism directed at the Baekho Guild on the internet.

When he searched for the Baekho Guild online, most of the search results were filled with insults and scathing comments.

Many of the posts targeted his father, Baek Hyung-won, criticizing him for having the audacity to remain as the guild leader despite his actions.

Reading through those comments, Baek Seo-jin felt a deep sense of discomfort.

Why are they insulting my father like this?

Why was everyone treating his father like a villain and condemning him?

In Baek Seo-jin’s world, his father, Baek Hyung-won, was a hero. The idea that such a man could be ridiculed and attacked by the public was unacceptable to him.

But the current situation was causing confusion to take root in his mind.

At the same time, he felt a growing sense of rebellion.

Father couldn’t possibly have done anything wrong. People must be misunderstanding something.

It was inconceivable that his father could have done something bad.

Baek Seo-jin thought about Seomun Ye-jin, the victim mentioned in the news.

She was far too beautiful to be associated with someone as strange and ill-tempered as Kim Ho-jun. No matter how he looked at it, Seomun Ye-jin seemed far too good for him.

Yet, whenever he tried to ask his parents about the situation, the normally forthcoming Baek Hyung-won and Kim Yoo-jung refused to give him any answers.

Their silence only deepened Baek Seo-jin’s unease.

Could it be that Seomun Ye-jin is misunderstanding my father, too?

Baek Seo-jin felt conflicted but decided to focus on the perspective that was easiest for him to accept. No, he decided to stop thinking about the headache-inducing and heart-wrenching parts altogether.

The thought that Seomun Ye-jin, the victim of this incident, might also be cursing his father made his chest feel heavy.

But for now, there was nothing he could do.

"Seo-jin, may I come in for a moment?"

At that moment, his mother, Kim Yoo-jung, called from outside the door.

"Yes, Mom. Please come in," he replied.

Kim Yoo-jung opened the door and entered.

Even though she usually exuded kindness and warmth, today her complexion looked troubled, which pained Baek Seo-jin to see.

"My sweet boy, why do you look so worried?"

Despite her own unease, Kim Yoo-jung’s first concern was for her son as she approached him.

Feeling her warm touch and hearing her gentle words, Baek Seo-jin reaffirmed his belief: his parents couldn’t possibly be in the wrong.

There might be misunderstandings at the moment, but surely, those misunderstandings would be cleared up in time.

"Lately, I keep seeing people online criticizing Dad. Dad is a good person… Why can’t people see that?"

"Ah, Seo-jin, think of it as a passing storm. There may be difficulties now, but better days will come. My sweet boy~"

Comforted by his mother’s embrace, Baek Seo-jin stayed still in her arms.

Yes, maybe brighter days would come.

"Seo-jin, aren’t you lonely being by yourself? Would you like a friend?"

"A friend?"

"Yes. She’s younger than Seomun Ye-jin, but I found a girl around your age who’s growing into a very beautiful young lady."

Hearing this, Baek Seo-jin listened as Kim Yoo-jung mentioned the girl’s name, and he murmured it aloud.

"Han Se-hee?"

***

Han Se-hee.

She was the childhood friend heroine of the original story’s protagonist, Baek Seo-jin.