On the day I came of age, another soul appeared inside me.
She claimed to be the author-mother of the male lead, while I was the idiotic female side character who helped him rise to power.
The author-mother screamed inside my head: "My precious boy is going to die! Hurry and help him!"
I asked coolly, "Didn't you say this was a female-led story? Why don't you let me help the heroine?"
"The heroine has the male lead to help her. She doesn't need you."
"You call this female-led, but it's really just a power fantasy about an overpowered man."
To hell with strong women and even stronger men.
Watching the male lead kneel in humiliation, I sneered:
"I'll become the stepping stone the heroines climb to the top."
"And your male lead is only fit to be our footstool."
