Summary
I transmigrated into a book as the six-year-old granddaughter of a perverted villain. He slaughtered people like flies and loved to collect human bones. Yet, this demon, who struck fear into the hearts of the entire pugilistic world, instantly became a doting grandfather in front of me. I pointed at a pool of blood and said I wanted a rainbow pony pool party, and overnight, he drained the blood and filled it with strawberry milkshakes. I said, “Grandpa, throwing bones around isn’t what good kids do,” and he immediately turned his collection of skulls into chalk to teach me how to write. One day, I casually complained that the villain had no friends, and the next day, all the martial arts masters were tied up and brought to play house with me. “Good grandchild, do you still need friends?” he asked gently, wiping his blood-stained knife. I peed my pants, thinking: The transformation plan, something seems a little off?
I, an office worker who yesterday was still working overtime…