The Villain Destined to Die
[BAD ENDING #482: Intestine Wall Decoration.]
[Cause of Death: The 3rd Heroine, Sword Princess, mistook your sneeze for a curse chant.] [YOU HAVE DIED.]
The blood-red text blinked slowly on the curved 8K monitor that spanned nearly two meters. The letters seemed to drip with digital blood, mocking anyone sitting before them.
"Bastard... Hah... Hah... Damn it!"
Inside a penthouse on the 50th floor in the heart of Seoul, a young man hurled a custom pure gold-plated controller at a sofa worth the price of a luxury car. The controller bounced dully, surviving its owner's rage only thanks to the sofa's plush cushioning.
His name was Shin-woo. Twenty-four years old. The sole heir to a global energy conglomerate. His bank account had more digits than an international phone number. Physically, he was healthy. Socially, he sat at the peak of the food chain.
However, right now, he looked like the living dead.
Dark circles hung heavy under his eyes, his skin was pale from lack of sunlight, and his hair was a mess, resembling a bird's nest struck by lightning. Scattered across the desk before him were empty energy drink cans and bottles of expensive supplements that could feed a family for a month.
"Ten years..." Shin-woo muttered, his voice hoarse and cracking. "I wasted ten years of my youth on this digital trash."
He stared at the monitor screen with a mix of pure hatred and unhealthy obsession.
The game title sat elegantly in the corner of the screen: Cise of Blood: All Routes Lead to Death!
To casual gamers, this was just an ordinary fantasy Eroge (Erotic Game) with extraordinarily beautiful artwork. The illustrations were museum-quality, the voice actors were A-list celebrities, and the story was penned by award-winning screenwriters.
But to the hardcore community, this game was the 'Dark Souls' of dating sims. No, that was too light. This game was Hell programmed in C++.
The genre was supposed to be 'Romance-Fantasy'. But the hashtags accompanying it on forums were: #Survival #Horror #Gore #PsychologicalTrauma.
In this game, the Heroines weren't stereotypical anime girls who would blush if you gave them flowers. No. Here, if you gave the wrong flower, the Heroine would think you were insulting her ancestors and decide to poison your village well.
The difficulty level was absurd. Shin-woo had spent the last 10 years trying every dialogue option, every route, every secret item.
He had been burned to death, frozen, eaten by monsters, betrayed by childhood friends, beheaded by fiancées, and even choked to death on bread because his character's 'Luck' stat was too low.
"But today..." Shin-woo dragged his body back to his ergonomic gaming chair.
His trembling fingers pressed the 'Continue' button.
On the screen, a beautiful animation played. The Protagonist stood atop a pile of corpses, holding the main Heroine's hand in the center of a ruined world. Not a happy ending, but the only ending where the Protagonist was still breathing.
[TRUE ENDING: UNLOCKED]
[COMPLETION: 100%]
Tears trickled from the corners of Shin-woo's eyes. Not tears of emotion, but the tears of relief of a prisoner finally freed after long torture.
"It's done..." Shin-woo leaned back, staring at the ceiling of his quiet, luxurious room. "I'm... finally free."
A strange sensation crept over his body. His heart, which had been racing from adrenaline, suddenly slowed. Too slow. An immense drowsiness hit him like a black tsunami.
This wasn't just sleepiness. It felt like his soul was being sucked out through his pores. Ah, maybe I'm having a heart attack? Shin-woo thought apathetically. Too much caffeine. Lack of sleep for 72 hours. Makes sense.
The world narrowed to a single point of light. The city noise outside his window—police sirens, horns, the hum of delivery drones—faded into absolute silence.
Shin-woo's last thought before his consciousness extinguished wasn't about his family, or his wealth that would last seven lifetimes. His thoughts were on a single character in that game.
Amon Von Zeroth. A small-fry antagonist who shared his name. A bastard who always appeared only to die miserably to satisfy the players' sense of justice.
At least... I'm not as bad off as him, he thought, before darkness swallowed everything.
A piercing headache was the first thing to welcome him back to the land of the living.
It felt as if someone was stirring his frontal lobe with a rusty spoon.
"Argh..." Amon groaned, trying to lift his hand to massage his temples.
Wait. His hand felt... different. Longer. Thinner. And there was a large ruby ring encircling his index finger. Amon had never worn such gaudy jewelry in his life.
He forced his eyes open. Blinding morning sunlight pierced through thick silk curtains, forcing him to squint.
Amon sat up, gasping for air. His eyes scanned the surroundings with confusion escalating into panic. This wasn't his modern minimalist penthouse in Seoul.
The room was outrageously spacious, perhaps the size of a small basketball court. The walls were lined with dark red velvet wallpaper with gold patterns. Gloomy Renaissance-style paintings hung on every side. Hand-carved black mahogany furniture filled the corners of the room.
The scent... the room smelled of melted wax, old wood, and something sweet yet sharp. Like roses starting to rot.
Amon climbed out of the bed, which was large enough to fit five people. His feet stepped onto a thick fur rug. He ran—or rather stumbled—towards a large two-meter mirror standing arrogantly in the corner.
He froze.
The reflection in the mirror stared back. A young man of about 17 years. A tall, sturdy build, but with a posture that stooped slightly with laziness. Skin as pale as marble, almost transparent, revealing thin blue veins on his neck.
Hair as black as night fell messily around a face that was incredibly handsome—too handsome, to the point it felt uncomfortable to look at for too long. But the most striking feature was his eyes.
Red. Fresh blood red. Sharp, eerie, with pupils slightly more elliptical than a normal human's.
Amon took a step back, and the reflection retreated with him. He touched his cheek. The skin was cold. The lips in the mirror moved as he muttered: "Impossible."
Amon knew this face. He had seen this face burned, stabbed, beheaded, and mutilated hundreds of times in the game he had just beaten.
Amon Von Zeroth. The eldest son of the Duke Zeroth family. Genius Black Mage. Arrogant bastard. And most importantly... a Walking EXP Bag for the Protagonist.
In the 890 possible Bad Endings in the game, this character died in all routes. No exceptions. He was the definition of a 'Sacrificial Lamb of Fate'.
"I... I became a Mid-Boss who dies in Chapter 1?"
Amon's knees went weak. He slumped to the floor, gripping his black hair. This wasn't a fantasy isekai where he became a hero gifted with cheat powers. This was a death sentence.
Why? Because he knew exactly at what point this story started. Today was the first day of the Helios Magic Academy admission ceremony. And in Cise of Blood, this was the day the "Wheel of Fatal Destiny" began to turn.
Knock. Knock.
A soft knock on the heavy mahogany door broke the silence, making Amon jump up like a startled cat.
His heart pounded, slamming against his ribs. He knew who was behind that door. He had memorized this character's morning routine.
"Enter," Amon replied, trying to mimic the arrogant tone used by the original owner of the body. His voice sounded deep and cold, far more authoritative than his original voice in the real world.
The door opened silently. A young girl stepped in.
She was beautiful. So beautiful she made real-world celebrities look plain. Short silver hair cut in a bob, skin as white as snow, and wearing a classic black-and-white maid uniform, neat without a speck of dust.
But her eyes... Those ice-blue eyes were empty. Like a porcelain doll that had lost its soul.
Luna Artoria. Amon's personal maid. And in the game, she was a 'Hidden' Heroine with the Assassin class.
Amon knew her history. The Zeroth family slaughtered Luna's clan, then kidnapped Luna as a child, brainwashed her, and made her a servant as well as a guard dog for Amon.
On the surface, she was a loyal maid. Inside, she was a time bomb waiting for a trigger to explode and slit Amon's throat while he slept.
As Luna stepped closer, a digital ding sounded in Amon's head. A semi-transparent blue panel appeared floating in the air, right beside the girl's head.
[CHARACTER DATA]
Name: Luna Artoria
Race: Human (Enhanced)
Role: Personal Maid / Assassin
Danger Level: S-Rank
[RELATIONSHIP STATUS]
Loyalty: 10/100 (Bound by Contract Magic)
Affection: -50 (Deep Hatred / Disgusted)
Killing Intent: 88%
Amon felt his blood freeze. The last number blinked bright red. 88%? In game mechanics, if an NPC's Killing Intent touched 90%, they would start taking aggressive actions. If it touched 100%, an Instant Kill Event would occur.
This woman... she was 2% away from deciding to pour hot tea onto Amon's face.
"Young Master," Luna's voice sounded flat, monotone, without a hint of intonation. She carried a silver tray holding a beautifully steaming porcelain pot. "Your morning tea is ready. A blend of Spring Darjeeling and Forest Honey, specifically to calm the nerves before the academy entrance ceremony."
She placed the tray on a small table near the window. Her movements were fluid and graceful, the result of high-level assassin training.
Amon swallowed saliva that felt like sandpaper. His brain spun fast. Game lore flooded his mind.
Chapter 1. Luna's Route. On the first day of school, Luna would try to kill Amon subtly as a first test.
That tea. It wasn't ordinary tea. It was laced with Ghoul's Tongue extract. A poison that was odorless, tasteless, and colorless.
The effect didn't kill instantly. The poison would slowly paralyze magic nerve nodes. Within a month, Amon would lose his magic ability. In three months, he would be totally paralyzed. And at the end of the semester, Luna would 'end his suffering' with a pillow over his face while Amon lay helpless.
Luna poured the tea into a cup. Golden amber liquid flowed smoothly. The aroma was fragrant and soothing.
The girl turned, holding the cup with both hands, and offered it to Amon. "Please, Young Master."
Those empty blue eyes stared directly into Amon's red irises. There was a hidden challenge there. Drink it, bastard.
This was the first deadly branching point.
Option A: Drink it. Amon would be permanently poisoned. His magic stats would drop drastically, making it impossible to survive in the monster-filled Academy. Bad Ending in 3 months.
Option B: Refuse and Get Angry. The real Amon Von Zeroth would surely throw the cup if he knew it tasted odd, or scold Luna. The problem was, if Amon acted aggressively now, Luna's 'Killing Intent' which was already at 88% would spike to 100% because she felt threatened. Luna would kill him on the spot with the fruit knife in her skirt pocket, then flee and become a fugitive (Secret Route Heroine).
Amon had to choose a third option. An option not in the game. A human option. He had to refuse the poison, but still maintain his character as an arrogant noble, while simultaneously lowering Luna's killing intent.
Amon's hand reached out. He took the fine porcelain cup. Their fingers touched briefly. Luna's skin was ice cold.
The system in his retina blinked frantically: [WARNING! POISON DETECTED: GRADE B]
Amon lifted the cup towards his lips. He could see the muscles in Luna's neck tighten slightly. The maid held her breath, awaiting her victory.
Five centimeters from his lips. Three centimeters Hot steam hit Amon's nose.
Suddenly, Amon stopped. His eyes narrowed, staring at the surface of the tea liquid as if he saw a dead fly in it.
Slowly, the corner of Amon's lips lifted into a sneer of disgust. The signature sneer of a Villain.
Clack.
He placed the cup back onto the tray with a bit of force, creating a sharp sound of ceramic clashing in the quiet room.
"Luna," called Amon. His voice was calm but heavy.
"Yes... Young Master?" For the first time, there was a ripple of emotion in Luna's monotone voice. A hint of hesitation.
"Are you trying to be funny this morning?" Amon asked coldly, not looking at Luna, but walking towards the window to look at the view of the academy castle in the distance.
"...I do not understand your meaning."
"The water temperature," Amon lied with god-level confidence. "Eighty-seven degrees. I asked for ninety degrees. You know that a three-degree difference ruins the flavor profile of Darjeeling leaves, don't you?"
Amon turned around, staring sharply at Luna who stood frozen. "Has the standard of the Zeroth family servants fallen this low? Or did you intentionally serve me warm ditch water?"
The insult was sharp. It was something the real Amon would say.
But the next sentence was the key fate-changer inserted by Amon the Gamer.
"Get rid of that trash. Pour it down the sink, don't pour it on the plants. The plants in the garden are too expensive to die because of tea made by you."
Don't pour it on the plants. It was a subtle code. A hint that Amon knew the tea was poisonous, but he chose not to make a big deal out of it openly. He was telling Luna: 'I know your plan, but your poison is too low-level for me to take seriously.'
Silence engulfed the room for five agonizing seconds.
Amon held his breath in silence, waiting to see if a knife would fly through his heart. Luna's hand trembled slightly as she held the silver tray. Her flat expression cracked. Her empty eyes now blinked, processing the confusing information.
Her young master... realized the poison? But instead of punishing her or calling the guards, he just... complained about the water temperature? Was the Young Master underestimating her? Or... was he granting mercy in an arrogant way?
Ding.
The system panel changed color from red to yellow.
[Killing Intent: 88% -> 65%]
[Confusion: +40%
[Status Effect: Alert but Retreating]
"I... apologize for my unforgivable negligence," Luna bowed deeply. "I will dispose of it immediately and will not make tea again today."
"Good. Prepare my clothes. I want the black suit with gold thread embroidery. We leave for the Academy in ten minutes."
"As you command, Young Master."
Luna retreated with quick steps, carrying the tray containing the deadly poison out of the room as if the item could explode at any moment.
As soon as the door closed tight, Amon's arrogant mask shattered instantly.
"Fuuuuhhhh!"
He exhaled a long breath, his legs giving up on supporting his weight, and he collapsed sitting on the edge of the bed.
His back was soaked in cold sweat. His hands trembled uncontrollably.
"Close..." whispered Amon, clutching his chest which hurt from the excessive heartbeat. "That was nearly a Game Over in the first 5 minutes."
He stared at his palm. The ruby ring glistened in the sunlight. He was alive. He had successfully passed the first 'Death Tutorial'.
However, a crooked smile slowly appeared on Amon's face. This sensation of fear... this burning adrenaline... It was far more real than any monitor screen. Far more satisfying than just pressing the 'X' button.
A large blue text box appeared, floating in the center of the room.
[MAIN QUEST #1 STARTED]
Mission: Survive The Opening Ceremony
Location: Helios Academy Great Hall
Main Threat: Heroine #2 (Sylvia) & Main Protagonist
Reward: The right to live another day.
Penalty: Brutal public death.
Amon Von Zeroth stood up, fixing his hair in front of the mirror, and let the cunning smile of the Final Boss grace his face once again.
"Alright, System," he said to the empty air. "Let's mess up this damn scenario."
