NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain

Lily scowled—not in fright, not even in anger, but in utter indifference. As if she was looking at a pile of dung someone had left in the middle of the road.

She'd endured this shit for years.

These filthy, leering, half-brained pigs thinking they had any claim over her. Thinking that, just because she was a woman, they could do whatever they wanted.

But today?

Today was different.

"Well, well."

One of them began, it was the same guy from before who flexed his biceps and asked her if she wanted to fell it.

He flexed his arms like a rooster puffing up its chest.

His muscles bulged, thick with years of hard labor—but Lily had zero doubt they were more fat than strength.

His beady eyes twinkled with amusement as he grinned at her.

"What brings you here, Lily, dear? Couldn't resist seekin' out the company of some real men?"

More chuckles rippled through the group.

Lily didn't flinch.

Instead, she let out a slow, unimpressed breath, her arms folding under her chest.

And beside her, standing so still he almost looked bored—Artis cracked his knuckles.

Lily felt a shiver run down her spine.

Not from fear.

From anticipation.

Oh, this was going to be good.

"Well, of course! Why else would she be here, right?"

One of the thugs smirked, adjusting his belt like he was about to get to work.

"If you just say the word, sweetheart, we'll show you heaven."

Another one slapped his meaty thigh, letting out a wheezing laugh like a pig choking on its own slop. His belly jiggled so much it looked like it was trying to escape his body.

"And don't worry about your little friend over there," another one sneered, jerking his thumb toward Artis. "He's got such a pretty face—I'm sure we can find some company for him, too. Hehehe…"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

Silence.

An ominous silence.

Every single worker in the group froze. Their beer-soaked brains took a full five seconds to process what had just been said.

And then, as if possessed, they all turned their heads in perfect, mechanical unison toward the idiot who had spoken.

Their expressions?

Pure. Unfiltered. Disgust.

The air shifted. The camaraderie shattered. The guy who had been flexing his biceps earlier actually recoiled like he had just been splashed with sewage.

"Gay…"

He muttered under his breath, taking two steps back.@@novelbin@@

His friends followed suit immediately, moving away so fast they left the poor bastard completely isolated—a solid two-foot radius of excommunication.

The guilty man's face dropped. His eyes darted around in panic.

"Wait—guys, come on! I didn't mean it like that!"

He raised his hands in surrender, frantically shaking his head.

"I was just saying—y'know—company—not like that! Not—that kind of company!"

The silence dragged. The disgust deepened.

"Bro, what did you just say?"

One of the thugs muttered, his face twisted in sheer betrayal.

The panicked man gulped, his hands flailing.

"I—I can explain! Just—just give me your face! I'll blow the truth to you—"

The words left his mouth before his brain caught up.

Everyone gasped.

Someone dropped their sandwich.

The bicep guy turned pale.

"Yo."

He took another step back.

"What the actual fuck?"

"I—"

"BLOW?!"

"THE TRUTH?!"

A collective shudder went through the group. One man physically hugged himself as if trying to protect his own soul.

The accused man's face turned into a full-blown horror show.

"No, no, no—wait—! THAT'S NOT—"

"DON'T EVEN FINISH THAT SENTENCE!"

"BURN HIM!"

Someone actually grabbed a torch.

The group immediately disbanded from him, cutting him off from society like he had committed a crime worse than murder. It was over.

He would never recover.

"Come on, man! You think I'd choose dick over tits? Over tits?! Never! I mean—I haven't—I wouldn't—I—uh—"

"Ewww."

The bicep guy wrinkled his nose like he'd just caught a whiff of a rotten corpse.

"Fucking homo."

The rest of the group recoiled like he had just whipped it out and started helicoptering in broad daylight.

"No, no, no—wait—!"

The accused man panicked, his voice rising to a desperate pitch.

"Come back here! Let me explain! You know me, guys! I would never—just—just step a little closer and I'll blow—I mean, I'll TELL you the truth!"

The workers exchanged horrified glances.

Then, as a unit, they took another synchronized step back, putting even more distance between them and their former friend.

Meanwhile, something interrupted the bicep guy's moral panic—a gentle tap on his shoulder.

His instincts kicked in. He turned around, already cracking his knuckles, expecting to see another poor soul to intimidate.

But instead, he found himself looking up. And up.

Standing before him, smiling with an innocent little tilt of the head, was pretty boy.

Artis.

And in the time it took the bicep guy's beer-addled brain to register that, he had already scanned the man's physique from head to toe.

Tall. Muscular. Not the thick, meaty kind of muscle that looked like it belonged on a sweaty butcher, but the kind that sculpted itself into aesthetic perfection.

'He's lean.'

The thug realized.

'But why does he look like he could suplex me into the pavement…?'

Then his eyes dropped lower.

And he saw it. Explore new worlds at My Virtual Library Empire

The bulge.

A mighty, unrestrained monument beneath those flimsy pants. A beast barely caged by the fabric.

The bicep guy's face twisted into a mix of disbelief, jealousy, and pure spite.

"Tch."

He scowled, suddenly feeling very insecure about his own situation down there.

For the first time in his miserable life, he questioned himself.

Had he been the fool all along? Had he been doing arm day at the expense of something greater?

He shook his head violently, trying to rid himself of the cursed thoughts.

No. This was a test.

And he refused to fail.

He glared back at Artis, his jaw tightening.

"What do you want, pretty boy?"

Artis just smiled wider, his crimson eyes gleaming like a cat that had just found a trapped mouse.

"I would have asked you to apologize to Lily for everything you've said to her like a responsible patron...But then again, I'm not here for that. I'm here to show her…How a real man protects his girl."