In my last life, I turned out to be a big villain. My life was too miserable. My father didn't love my mother and I had no choice but to fight for it on my own. But in the end, I was still no match for the harsh world. My husband ran away with someone else. I struggled all my life but still ended up with a miserable old age, loneliness, and betrayal. Was it because I wasn't kind enough, or because I didn't have the aura of a protagonist?
In this life, I want to give myself an explanation and prove that villains also have spring!
Intention: The meaning of the existence of heroes and villains is itself the way to practice life.