Becoming a Cannon Fodder, I Got Famous by Writing Harem Drama - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

On the first day of the new year, I stayed up all night writing.

After a good sleep, I woke up to find my home gone.

An entirely unfamiliar dwelling, a strange environment.

I wanted to make a call but didn’t even have a phone.

While in a daze, a cold mechanical voice sounded in my ear.

“Host, hello, welcome to the interstellar age…”

After half an hour of communication.

I finally understood my current situation.

I had transmigrated into a novel.

I was now in an interstellar Beastfolk PO novel, as a nameless cannon fodder character.

This novel had no real plot to speak of; it revolved entirely around a universally adored female lead, with every member of the opposite sex falling under her spell.

Among these love interests were a domineering CEO, a popular celebrity, a genius mechanic…

But without exception, each love interest believed they were the heroine’s one true love.

And the female lead-this delicate rabbit-like girl-managed to juggle all four male leads, keeping them completely unaware of each other’s existence.

But as the saying goes, if you walk by the river often enough, you’re bound to get your shoes wet.

Eventually, the family of one of the male leads discovered her cunning deeds and prepared to punish her according to their laws.

And that cuckolded male lead-how could he bear to let her die?

Torn between a family he couldn’t defy and the woman he loved,

this genius came up with a clever plan.

Which was to find someone to fake the heroine’s death by taking her place.

And I, being an orphan of low status,

and the heroine’s adopted sister with no blood relation,

was most unfortunately chosen to be that substitute.

So great was this innocent cannon fodder’s resentment

that it triggered the rebirth mechanism.

The System said, “Because you share the same name as the original author, but she’s been staying up late gaming and not sleeping, we had no choice but to pull you in as a stand-in for the time being.”

Me: “…?”

Fine! So we’re playing this big, huh?

Damn it all, what did I ever do wrong?!

I diligently finish every novel I write, never taking a break or missing an update.

I asked again, “So do I at least get a cheat skill?”

The System imported the entire novel’s plot and the cannon fodder’s memories into my brain via scan.

I quickly skimmed through the five-page memory file and the all-B stats report, then casually asked, “Anything else?”

System: “Nothing else.”

Me: “… Huh? Not even a weapon or a bank card?”

System: “Because you’re just cannon fodder. The author didn’t write a character profile for you when creating you, so you don’t have any of that stuff.”

Me, dazed: “Then what am I supposed to do?”

The System replied quickly, “Obviously, survive until the story’s ending.”

Me: “…?”

Survive with what?

With my all-B grade physique?

Or with my penniless wallet?

I calmly walked to the bed, pulled back the covers, and lay down.

The System asked curiously, “Are you conserving your energy to get started tomorrow?”

I closed my eyes peacefully. “No, I’m planning to wait for death.”

System: “???”

Just as I closed my eyes, someone burst through the front door with a loud bang.

Then came the sound of hurried footsteps, mixed with the crashing of breaking items and certain indescribable noises.

I stared blankly at the ceiling.

The heroine was sobbing faintly in the living room, while I silently shed tears in my room.

I once loved reading steamy stories, and now I regretted it deeply.

I never imagined I’d end up part of someone else’s play.

Finally, the sounds in the living room died down a little.

There was a knock on the bedroom door, and without waiting for my reply, the person pushed it open.

Her white nightgown was already somewhat disheveled, and her golden hair was tousled.

But you could still see her face was delicate and sweet, with eyes glowing a gorgeous red.

The original owner’s memories told me

that the beast nature of the person before me had not yet receded.

Seeing I was awake, Arya rubbed her reddened wrist and lazily lifted her chin toward me.

“Ji Fu, could you please clean up the broken plates and furniture in the living room?”