Better To Be The Villain

[A//N: Hi, Aldric here. This is a completely new version of this old novel I had written a long time ago. The story and setup is different, but what I had in mind for the setup is still there. This story is heavily inspired by two novels, being The Novel's Extra and The Author's POV. I don't think it'll be on the level of those novels, but I am still hoping it makes the cut at least for most of my readers. Again I want to thank you for taking the time to read this novel of mine. It means a lot, have a blessed day or night lol].

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Rain pelted the cracked sidewalk, creating small rivers that flowed toward the busy streets. The city was alive with the usual sounds of honking cars, hurried footsteps, and the occasional shout from a street vendor. In the middle of it all, a man trudged along, hoodie up, trying to avoid the downpour and the people passing by.

Marcus Evans wasn't anyone special, and he'd be the first to admit that. At twenty-eight, he was the epitome of an average guy living an average life. His days were spent working a mind-numbing office job at a logistics company, staring at spreadsheets for hours on end. His coworkers were nice enough, but no one ever stuck around for long conversations. Marcus preferred it that way. Small talk was a hassle.

He wasn't particularly athletic, nor was he exceptionally smart. He was just… there. Life, as he saw it, was a series of routines. Wake up, work, come home, game for a bit, and then sleep. It wasn't a bad life, just unremarkable. And that was fine with him.

Today, however, was particularly gloomy. The gray clouds overhead mirrored his mood, and the endless list of tasks at work weighed heavily on him. He glanced at his phone, seeing the time—7:00 PM. He had stayed late again, not because anyone asked him to, but because it was easier than going home to his quiet, empty apartment.

"Another exciting day," he muttered to himself, pulling his hood tighter as the rain came down harder.

His only solace in life was reading webnovels. Marcus was a sucker for the kind of escapism they offered—the worlds where the underdog rises, where the protagonist starts off weak but through sheer grit and determination becomes a hero. His current obsession was Decade Long Crusade, a sprawling epic with over 3,000 chapters that mixed magic and futuristic technology. He was about a thousand chapters in, and though he had a love-hate relationship with it, he couldn't stop reading.

Ash Braker, the story's protagonist, was everything Marcus wasn't—handsome, brave, and destined for greatness. But even more than Ash, Marcus found himself drawn to the side characters, the nobodies. The ones who struggled just to survive, often dying in the background as the plot moved forward. Maybe it was because he related to them more. After all, Marcus had no delusions of grandeur. He wasn't going to save the world or uncover any hidden powers. In the grand scheme of things, he was just like one of those extras, unnoticed and unimportant.

As he walked down the street, Marcus wondered what it would be like to live in a world like Decade Long Crusade, a world where you could become powerful, where you could make a difference. But that was just fantasy. Reality was a lot more mundane.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts. He pulled it out to see a notification for a new chapter release. Marcus smiled for the first time all day. Decade Long Crusade had updated. Perfect timing.

He ducked into a nearby coffee shop to escape the rain and ordered his usual—a black coffee, no sugar. Taking a seat by the window, he opened his phone and began to read.

...

An hour passed in a blur as Marcus lost himself in the world of Decade Long Crusade. Ash was in the middle of a life-or-death battle, pushing himself to the limit to protect his friends. It was moments like this that kept Marcus hooked—the tension, the stakes, the feeling that anything could happen.

But then came the part Marcus always dreaded: the sacrifice. One of the side characters, an extra with barely any screen time, threw themselves into harm's way to buy Ash a few seconds. A selfless act. Noble. And utterly pointless. The character was gone, forgotten as quickly as they had appeared.

"Just like that," Marcus muttered, shaking his head. "They die, and no one even cares."

He finished the chapter and put his phone away, the glow of the screen replaced by the dim light of the coffee shop. He took a sip of his now-cold coffee and stared out the window, watching the rain come down in sheets.

It wasn't fair. The extras never got a chance. They were doomed from the start, destined to be background noise in someone else's story. Marcus couldn't help but wonder—if he were in their shoes, would he have done anything differently? Would he have found a way to survive, to fight for a place in the world?

Probably not, he thought. He wasn't brave like Ash. He wasn't smart enough to outwit the villains or strong enough to fight them. If he were in that world, he'd probably die just like all the others, unnoticed and forgotten.

The rain continued to pour as Marcus made his way back home, his footsteps slow and deliberate. His apartment wasn't far, just a few blocks, but he wasn't in any rush. There was nothing waiting for him there except silence.

He crossed the street, his mind still lost in thoughts of the novel. He wondered what it would be like to have power, real power, the kind that could change the course of history. What if, for once, someone like him had a chance?

The thought was fleeting, interrupted by a sudden screech of tires. Marcus turned just in time to see the headlights bearing down on him. There was no time to react, no time to move. The world seemed to slow as the car swerved, skidding across the wet pavement.

And then, impact.

Marcus felt a blinding pain shoot through his body, and for a brief moment, everything went white. He hit the ground hard, the rain now mixing with something warm and sticky beneath him. His vision blurred, the edges of his world darkening as he struggled to stay conscious.

'Is this how it ends?' he wondered, his thoughts sluggish. 'From an old beat up truck?..'

As the world around him faded, a final thought crossed his mind—one that came not from fear, but from a strange sense of resignation.

Well at least he'd be on the news… than to die forgotten.

....

When Marcus awoke, it was to the sound of unfamiliar voices and the feeling of cold wooden floor beneath him. His body ached, but the sharp pain from the accident was gone. Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking against the harsh light.

He wasn't in the city anymore.

Around him stood tall shelves of books upon books, their surfaces glowing faintly with unfamiliar symbols. Magic? Technology? It didn't matter. What mattered was that this wasn't home.

Panic surged through him, but it was quickly replaced by something else—memories. Foreign memories, thoughts, and instincts that weren't his own. His body felt different, stronger, but also… not quite right.

But as Marcus caught his reflection in a nearby window, he realized the impossible had happened. He wasn't Marcus Evans anymore. He was someone else. 'What….in the hell?'