The Scumbag's Regret: My Lethal Comeback

Karina pushed open the heavy glass doors of the luxury salon. The crystal chimes above rang sharply. Several wealthy women getting treatments frowned in annoyance at the intrusion. Her fried blonde hair and smeared, cheap club makeup clashed violently with the elegant, hushed atmosphere of the room. Tony, the lead stylist, was about to send an assistant to shoo away what looked like a lost, D-list trash bag. But when he met Karina's freezing, dead-eyed stare, his feet stopped moving. It was the oppressive, suffocating gaze of an apex predator. In all his years in Hollywood, Tony had only seen that look on the faces of a few untouchable billionaires. Tony immediately stepped forward himself, guiding Karina to a plush leather chair in the VIP room. "Ma'am, what kind of evening look are we doing tonight?" "No evening look." Karina stared at herself in the mirror, her voice hard as iron. "Cut all this disgusting blonde hair off. Dye it back to pure black." Tony gasped. "All of it? But ma'am, your face shape is perfect for these long waves! Cutting it short will make your features look too aggressive!" "What's wrong with aggressive?" Karina shot him a cold look through the mirror. "I want efficiency, not to look like a plastic doll. Cut it." Intimidated by her aura, Tony didn't dare argue. He picked up his shears. With the first brutal snip, the waist-length, dead blonde hair fell to the floor. As the heavy hair fell away, Karina felt a suffocating layer of vanity and weakness lift from her shoulders. Her neck felt light and free. While waiting for the black dye to set, Karina asked Tony for a full bottle of heavy-duty makeup remover and a pack of cleansing towels. She poured the remover onto the towel without an ounce of gentleness. Staring into the mirror, she scrubbed violently at the thick foundation, the exaggerated eyeshadow, and the fake lashes. Tony watched her brutal movements, wincing in physical pain. "Ma'am, please! Be gentle! You're going to tear your skin!" Karina ignored him. She scrubbed until the towel was stained a muddy, toxic brown. Then, she turned on the faucet and splashed freezing cold water hard against her face. When she lifted her head, water droplets sliding down her pale skin, Tony sucked in a sharp breath. He stood frozen, completely dumbfounded. Without the grotesque makeup, her face was a flawless, terrifying work of art. Her bone structure was supreme. Her deep-set eyes radiated a cold, highly aggressive beauty. The original owner had deliberately ruined her own striking, cold features with cheap makeup just to cater to Kole's preference for 'sweet barbies'. "My God..." Tony muttered. "Was your previous makeup artist blind? This is a crime against nature!" Karina pulled a tissue and dried her face. She looked at the familiar yet strange face in the mirror. A satisfied smirk touched her lips. This was the face of a survivor. Two hours later, the process was done. Tony carefully blew dry her hair-a sleek, obsidian-black lob that barely brushed her collarbones. Black hair, snow-white skin, and eyes that looked like they could dissect a soul. She radiated the lethal, untouchable aura of a true 'black lotus'. "Perfect... this is the greatest masterpiece of my career," Tony whispered, his hands actually shaking. Karina stood up. She pulled a thick stack of cash from her wallet, slapped it onto the counter without even looking at the bill, and walked out. When she stepped out of the VIP room with her new look, the whispers in the main lobby died instantly. Every single pair of eyes glued to her. Someone secretly raised a phone to take a picture, assuming a legendary supermodel had just come out of retirement. Karina pushed open the salon doors. The cold night wind of Los Angeles whipped through her black hair. She took a deep breath of freedom. Back at her apartment, she dragged a massive black garbage bag into the bedroom. She ruthlessly shoved every neon bandage dress and pair of stiletto heels into the trash. From the bottom of a storage bin, she dug out a few simple black windbreakers, cargo pants, and a pair of tactical combat boots with heavy grips. She packed the practical gear efficiently into a massive outdoor hiking backpack, patting the heavy canvas with satisfaction. Karina walked to the window, looking out at the neon lights. Her eyes were sharp as a hawk's. Tomorrow, the hunt begins.