MTL - Undying Patient - Chapter 12 Gangster in Wheelchair

Akira Tsukihara was a romance author who despised love. Though she wrote best-selling novels filled with idealistic romance, she harbored nothing but contempt for the genre and the readers who adored it. Love, in her eyes, was a lie—an illusion that blinded people from the true forces of the world: power, betrayal, and ambition. One night, in a fit of frustration, she cursed love itself... and woke up trapped inside one of her own stories.Reborn as Aira, a nameless peasant girl in the Kingdom of Seraphis—a world she had meticulously crafted—Akira quickly realizes that reincarnation isn’t the fantasy dream she had written about. She isn’t a noble, a princess, or a heroine blessed with beauty and power. She is a nobody. A commoner, struggling to survive in the harsh realities of the medieval world she had once designed as a mere backdrop for her grand romances.As Aira, she faces starvation, endless labor, and the crushing weight of insignificance. But Akira was never one to accept fate. If she couldn’t escape this world, she would rewrite the story on her own terms. She would carve her name into history—not as the lovestruck heroine of a cliché romance, but as the mastermind who would bend the world to her will.In a land ruled by noble bloodlines and political schemes, where the romance tropes she once loathed play out before her eyes, Aira sets her sights on one goal: destroying the very ideals of love that had imprisoned her in this wretched world.Even if it means becoming the villain of her own story.

I smile. I know I smile. I just don't know when.“Entropy?” After all, the blood in my veins dried up decades ago, only dust remains.“Ephemera?” My begging longingness—all of my dreams, devoured by void. Left is but an empty shell—hollow inside.“Life?” Paradox.“Death?” Cold, but equal for all. Just like the blood in my heart's arteries and veins— frozen—time immemorial.“Universe?” Its fabric—time and space, wrapped around like some illusion, a grand simulation—just like that dream...faint, but there.“Dream?” I couldn't tell...very...disorderly like chaos, like silhouette in the mist, hard to capture, it's memory very faint.“Home?”“Home?”“Are you there?”...***Reality fiction.