The Alpha Villain’s Guide to Stealing the Protagonist’s Luck

It was a tectonic shift deep inside his skull, his entire brain being rewritten. Alaric groaned, burying his face into the cold silk pillowcase. The heavy scent of luxury perfume mixed with pheromones hit him like a physical blow. Wait. A truck. His eyes snapped open. What was the last thing he remembered? Standing at a crosswalk, scrolling through a trashy werewolf novel on his phone, mid-rant about how the villain had the IQ of a husky—then bang. "Holy s**t," he muttered. His brain felt like a hard drive being force-fed someone else's operating system. Two sets of data ripped through each other. Another life flooded in—he was Alaric Vane, sole heir to the country's largest conglomerate. Yale graduate, prodigy, the family's prized Golden Wolf bloodline. Also, the single dumbest villain in the history of literature. A man who did absolutely nothing with his life except wag his tail at the hero's fated mate. "I actually transmigrated into this brain-dead villain." He rubbed his temples, sitting up to take in the room around him. Hand-carved mahogany furniture. A curved panoramic window stretching from floor to ceiling, the entire city skyline bowing at his feet. All his. And in the original plot, all of it was nothing but a stepping stone for the so-called "protagonist." Alaric rolled out of bed and walked to the floor-to-ceiling mirror. The reflection staring back made him pause. It looked like him, but a version that had been through an HD remaster. Every muscle carved with surgical precision, his features sharper, a predatory light burning deep in his irises. This wasn't just "handsome." This was a genetic masterpiece. The System upgraded my body.The realization clicked into place. The moment the thought formed, a cold mechanical voice detonated in his skull. 【Ding! Host confirmed. Protagonist Luck Plunder System initializing.】 【Host's current state: "Transmigration with Body." The System has optimized your physical stats—vitality, appearance, and innate abilities have all been enhanced to the apex level.】 Apex level. Alaric grinned at the mirror, and the man in the reflection gave him back a predator's smile. No more playing lapdog to some bargain-bin hero. No more acting like an i***t for a pre-written script. He glanced at the digital calendar on the nightstand: May 6th. His heart skipped. Today. According to the original timeline, the "hero" and his "fated Luna" would be joining the company today. By the afternoon, the old Alaric would visit the grassroots department, fall for the girl at first sight, and start throwing money at her—only to be crushed under the protagonist's "talent" and "integrity," reduced to a laughingstock. A soft hand pressed against his chest. "Young Master Alaric... you're awake?" The voice was honeyed, dripping with sleepy heat. The woman in his bed was looking up at him. Porcelain skin. Features sharp enough for a Hollywood red carpet. She propped herself up on one elbow, the silk sheet slipping from her chest. Alaric looked at her, then back at the mirror. The plot? Fuck the plot. He seized her wrist and flipped her back against the pillows. The System-enhanced power surged through his veins, and he felt every muscle fiber answer his command with lethal precision. Her eyes went wide—a flicker of shock—and then something else. Anticipation. Her breath shattered instantly, wrist trembling in his grip, and she didn't pull away. "Morning," he said, voice low, a command dressed as a word. She gasped, a soft whimper escaping her throat. Today is the day the hero begins his climb to destiny. Alaric stared down at her, but his mind was elsewhere. Too bad, kid. Your road to glory ends before it even starts. I'm the one holding the pen now. And I decide how your story ends.