A Dramatic Transmigration

After winning 30 million in the lottery, I forcefully concluded the novel I was writing.

The female lead died of her own beauty while looking in the mirror.

The male lead slipped on a banana peel while walking and died.

The villain’s house had a gas leak, and he was blown up while smoking.

I wrote frantically: “Die! All of you, just die!”

…That night, I transmigrated into the book, and I had to fix the ridiculous plot to return to the real world.

But I was a step too late. When I got to the female lead’s house, she had already died of her own beauty.

And at the scene, I became the only suspect.

“She died of her own beauty! Died of her beauty! Why won’t you believe it!?”

The police captain across from me smoked all night but couldn’t figure out how the lie detector in the station broke.