Young Master's PoV: Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day

I almost fell to my knees.

Almost.

Greedily sucking in sharp breaths, I felt the pain burn through my chest and gut.

Those two hits I took from that summoned Essent — one in the sternum, the other in the stomach — would have put anyone else out of commission.

In fact, I think most C-rankers wouldn't have survived.

Thankfully, my Essence Circulation technique had strengthened my body just enough, giving me the monstrous endurance needed to tank those killing blows.

But even then, I was so outmatched that the fact I survived at all felt like a miracle.

A perfectly planned miracle — one I pulled off myself with a carefully crafted and well-timed strategy.

But a miracle nonetheless!

I mean, I took all the necessary precautions for this moment — getting the Divine Sword Aurieth in my possession, taking the secret Essence Circulation technique from Michael, and using Essence Stones to expand my Essence pool, even if only slightly.

And despite all that, I barely scraped by.

I barely won.

And the only reason I did… was because I caught that Essent by surprise. That, and… well, I knew its weak point.

In the game, Michael's demon, Xaldreth, told him to aim for the tome strapped to the ethereal Essent's chest.

Thankfully, that little bit of knowledge came in handy to me.

"Haaa…" I took another ragged breath before forcing myself to steady my breathing, slowing down my heartbeat, and focusing inward — circulating Essence through my body.

Not that I had much Essence left, anyway. Most of it was already burned by Aurieth to fuel those radiant attacks earlier in the fight.

Since that Essent was a creature made from light, only light and shadow could've hurt it. So I had to constantly coat my sword with divine radiance.

And that ability ate Essence like crazy.

Still, Aurieth had another enchantment that slightly boosted my Essence absorption rate while I held it, so I hadn't run completely dry just yet.

On another positive note, my Circulation Technique helped me manage the pain when I performed it — not numbing it, exactly, but giving me enough strength to push through it.

Finally, I took a long and deep breath, placed a hand on the side of my dislocated jaw, and—

Kaaach—

Snapped it back into place.

"Mnhmm," a muffled groan slipped out through clenched teeth as a hot sting shot through my chin and cheek.

I had no doubt there was a minor fracture because every time I tried to move my mouth, a fresh wave of agony was sent through my jaw.

Then, I grabbed my right forearm with my left hand, and rolled my right shoulder back to pop it into place as well.

Apparently, that had also been dislocated — probably when that glowing bastard tried to tear my arm off.

Another muffled cry escaped me as I circulated most of my Essence toward the worst areas — mainly my shoulder and jaw — focusing everything else I had left to keep me moving.

Just a little longer.

All this was almost over.

Letting out a sigh, I raised my hands and called upon Aurieth.

The twin longswords that had fallen on the floor earlier stirred before rising into the air on their own and flying back toward me, straight into my grip.

I joined both blades together, bringing Aurieth back into its greatsword form again.

And just then, I heard an outraged cry from across the chamber.

Apparently, while my fight was over, several meters away, at the other end of this large Dimensional Chamber, Rexerd had finally managed to overpower Juliana and push her down.

He didn't seem to be in very good shape.

The whole right side of his bruised face was a bloody mess. The eye that was supposed to be there had a gaping wound. There were also several cuts and stabs on his body, much more than before. And his left leg was unnaturally twisted.

I had no idea how he was even walking.

Well, he wasn't.

He was limping. But still.

Juliana, though, looked even worse.

Aside from her earlier injuries, her right arm was broken with a bone splintering out of her flesh, her own kunai was plunged into her left forearm, and her entire body trembled from pure exhaustion.

Her once-sharp azure eyes seemed a little dull now, her breaths shallow and ragged. Her top was torn in several places, soaked with blood that wasn't entirely her own.

Rexerd planted a foot on her gut, pinning her in place.

And yet, even then, her gaze still burned with raw defiance.

I could see it from here — the way her lips twitched upward into a crooked smirk despite the blood caked around her mouth.

She still refused to give up. Somehow.

Honestly, she scared me a little.

That defiance… that conviction…

It was relentless.

She was the type of monster one could just not break.

Because she would lose her mind before losing her resolve.

…And that was exactly why she could be so useful to me.

I could turn that determination into a weapon. Turn her into one.

She really did have the potential to become my most valuable pawn… after Michael, of course.

Rexerd, on the other hand, looked like a rabid beast that had been cornered for far too long.

His good eye twitched as he spat blood to the side, then leaned down and grabbed Juliana by the throat.

"You… bitch," he growled, voice gurgling through whatever was clogged in his throat. "You could've been useful to me after I'd fucked you! I even thought about sparing you! Going easy on you! But now, oh now I'll enjoy what I'm going to do to you! I'll rip you apart, flesh and soul—"

The poor fool was so invested in his trashy villain monologue that he didn't even notice me.

Didn't notice I'd already killed his summon.

Didn't notice I was right behind him.

Didn't notice as I raised my greatsword…

And swung it in an arc to cleanly cut off the leg he was using to pin down my Shadow.

Blood sprayed everywhere as the golden blade cleaved through his muscle, tendon, and bone.

Rexerd screamed.

It wasn't a roar. It wasn't a cry.

It was a broken sound — the kind that tears itself out of a man's throat without permission when he's subjected to unbearable pain. It was primal and panicked, filled with agony and disbelief.

His body collapsed to the side like a felled beast, his severed leg thudding on the floor beside Juliana with a wet slap.

He thrashed, eyes wide with pain, clutching at the stump where his leg used to be — blood pouring in rhythmic spurts.

His good eye flicked up to me, confused, panicked. Maybe even furious. "You… you—!"

"Me," I cut him off, stepping over Juliana's limp form like she was the fallen flag of a conquered country. "The guy you didn't notice while you were too busy huffing and puffing over your rejected villain arc."

He snarled, spitting blood. "You—bastard—!"

I drove the pointed edge of my blade into his remaining knee with a crunch.

His body spasmed, another scream ripping out of him as the joint in his knee shattered like glass beneath a hammer.

He crumpled, face smacking the ground with a dull crack. I watched him twitch, foam bubbling at the edge of his lips, hands clawing at the floor like he could somehow crawl away.

Pathetic.

I walked a slow circle around him, dragging Aurieth's gleaming edge against the chamber floor, letting it scrape just loud enough to make him flinch with every step.

"You had the stage. You had the girl. The monologue. The mood lighting," I stopped in front of him and crouched down. "But the script sucked."

He tried to lunge — or maybe it was just a twitch — but I grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back, forcing him to look me in the eye.

"You have no idea how much this hurts me," I said solemnly. My voice was flat, almost mournful. "You are such wasted potential. You had everything — brains, talent, and the curiosity that could've made you invaluable to me."

I paused, my grip tightening. "But you committed a sin, Rexerd. Crimes, I could overlook. But a sin — I cannot."

Rexerd thrashed in my grasp, his head jerking wildly as he tried to wriggle free. He sobbed, screamed, spat, and cursed like a madman.

"What the hell are you even talking about, you fucking psycho?! What did I ever do to you?! Why the fuck are you even here?! You have no idea who you're messing with! I'll gut you like a pig, you bastard! I'll kill you, you sick fuck! I'll skin you alive! I'll—"

I slammed his skull against the floor, silencing him mid-rant as his face crunched against the cold stone tile.

He kept making noise though — groaning, then screaming again, voice muffled against his own cheek.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," I murmured softly. Almost too softly. "I know about your illegal experiments. Your little project… the Alchemy of Souls. I know what you do to your victims. I know you're not a man — you're a monster dressed like one."

Rexerd went deadly silent. His one visible eye widened, and for the first time, there was something real in it.

Fear.

"You… H-How do you—?"

I cut him off before he could vomit out his useless questions. "But what I really can't overlook… is that you helped the Syndicate of the Nameless Lords. You gave them the engineering layout for a device capable of mind-controlling young Spirit Beasts. And in return, they gave you human subjects. Living ones. They funded your grotesque research on the human soul."

His lips began to quiver and color drained from his face like blood from a corpse. The realization hit him then. I wasn't here to just kill him, but that I knew him.

Every secret he thought was safe in the dark, I'd dragged into the light.

"I-It's just research," he whispered hoarsely, voice cracking with the tremble of a man still trying to cling to excuses. "T-The results could save lives! I— I'm close to finding a cure for Essence Poisoning! I could help children born without Spirit potential—"

I raised a brow. "By murdering promising young Awakened?"

His jaw clenched. He gritted his teeth — and then exploded. His voice roared with years of bottled resentment.

"So what?! So what if I killed a few?! They were either trash — nobodies! Or power-hungry freaks who would've abused their gifts anyway! What the hell do you know, you spoiled brat?! You were born with everything! Wealth, status, power! I was just a commoner! A genius born with nothing! I had to claw my way up from the gutters! And even then, because of my low potential, I couldn't reach past B-rank! The heavens are so unfair! So what if I wanted to defy them?! You don't know a damn thing about what I've been through! You—!"

I rolled my eyes and cut in, voice dry and dripping with mock sympathy. "Oh, boo-hoo. You were a commoner. Had a rough childhood. Your girlfriend dumped you for a celebrity hunter. Your sister died of Essence Poisoning. Life was cruel. Poor, poor you. I know all that crap."

Rexerd's eye widened again. "W-Wait, how—"

I bulldozed over him. "So answer me this. You sexually assaulted young girls under the guise of mentoring them. Some of them you even used for your research and killed them later. You smuggled resin into Ishtara, helped the Syndicate spread addiction there, and ruined countless lives. You also enjoyed torturing your test subjects. Was all of that also because you had a hard life?"

His mouth opened. But no words came out. Not this time.

Just silence. Silence and shame.

Then, with a strangled breath, he started scrambling to save himself. "No, no, wait! You know about the Syndicate, right? Did the High Priest tell you about them?! You said you killed him! You don't know what you've done! You have ruined the Syndicate's plans! Do you have any idea how dangerous they are?! They'll come for you! They don't know about you yet, but they will! They'll come after you, kid — but I can help you! I know them! I can speak for you! If you let me go, I'll talk to them — hell, I'll even recruit you! Work for the Nameless Lords, and you'll live like a king! Power, women, riches — you can have it all! They'll cover for you! They own half the world, and you can—"

"Shut up," I snapped sharply, my face contorted in disgust.

He flinched.

"You really thought I'd ever side with traitors?" I growled.

"T-Traitors?" he echoed, confused.

"Traitors to humanity," I spat. "The Syndicate wants to surrender our species to the Spirit King. Because they believe humans are an irredeemable mistake. A disease to nature. And you… You thought I'd sell my soul for the same power you threw everything away chasing after? You make me sick."

He frowned now, a touch of genuine bewilderment furrowing his brow. "W-What, are you one of those hero-complex fools or something?"

Then suddenly, another thought struck him — and panic returned to his face.

"A-And wait — wait! How do you even know about the Spirit King?! Th-That information is a top-priority secret! The High Priest shouldn't have had the clearance to know about it, and I didn't say anything related to–"

I didn't respond.

I just looked down at him coldly, without a shred of emotion in my eyes. I also stopped paying attention to what he was saying.

Then slowly, silently, I rose to my feet and raised my sword overhead.

He was still screaming something. Still spewing madness. Still hoping his voice could undo fate.

"Rexerd Cronwell," I said, voice firm like iron. "For your crimes of sexual misconduct, stalking, illegal human experimentation, abduction and unlawful imprisonment, torture, conspiring against humanity and committing the highest form of treason — an unforgivable sin — I, Samael Kaizer Theosbane, sentence you to death."

Rexerd kept crying. Cursing. Screaming about how he grew up in the slums where he had to eat moldy bread while nobles like me bathed in golden bathtubs and wiped our asses with silk… or something along those lines.

He was still trying to negotiate. Still ranting like a mad dog about to be put down.

He didn't stop speaking until his last breath.

…Until my sword came down on his neck and severed his head clean from his shoulders.