The moment Teresia left Derek’s room, a shadow landed lightly in the courtyard from above.
Xinzel emerged gracefully from the darkness and returned to the manor.
Along the way, a passing maid bowed respectfully. Xinzel paused.
“If you see the new girl on the fourth-floor corridor, take her to the assigned servant’s quarters for the night.”
The Duke’s estate had dormitories for servants. Most chose to stay there.
Kana, worried about Teresia at home, insisted on commuting daily between the capital and Light Village.
*The new girl? The poor child Kana brought? Shouldn’t she be spending the night in Young Master Derek’s room?*
The maid’s mind swirled with questions, but she didn’t dare ask.
In the manor, Steward Xinzel ranked above all servants—second only to Duke Wudewen and Young Master Derek.
She lowered her head in assent. Xinzel walked away.
He strode deep into the manor, stopping before a room servants avoided.
Knock.
Knock.
A crisp rap echoed.
A voice of pure authority answered from within: “Enter.”
Luxury assaulted the senses as the door opened. Priceless artworks filled the space. Gilded decorations glittered everywhere. At the center of this opulent expanse, Duke Wudewen lounged lazily in a wide, plush leather armchair.
He didn’t glance at Xinzel entering. Only the delicate crystal glass in his hand swirled gently, crimson wine rippling like blood.
“Well?”
His gaze stayed fixed on the wine, expression serene, as if examining something profound.
Xinzel replayed the night’s events in his mind. After a brief silence, he reported, “Young Master Derek didn’t touch Kana’s daughter. Instead, he humiliated the girl terribly… then coldly threw her out. She wept uncontrollably.”
“Excellent! Truly worthy of my expectations! I’d worried about teaching him not to be swayed by women—but he surpassed my hopes! Hahahaha!”
The Duke threw his head back in laughter and downed the wine in one gulp.
Xinzel watched the demon-like man before him, silent and cold.
…
Unaware he was being discussed, Derek felt utterly drained.
He’d thought escaping his corporate drone life meant comfort. Who knew being a villain was more exhausting?
Surviving the night in the Holy Maiden’s soft embrace had nearly drained him dry.
Why wasn’t he asleep yet?
After that fierce “battle,” the Holy Lady had drenched him in “holy water”—leaving him sticky with her fluids. How could he sleep like this?
A second bath washed away Teresia’s lingering scent. His mind finally relaxed.
Back in his room, yawning relentlessly, Derek still resolved to review his intel.
It felt urgent. Necessary.
*Tonight proved it. The Holy Maiden ambushed me the moment she stepped in.*
*That little cabbage broke all the rules—stripping and pouncing before I could blink. Only my brilliance and courage saved me.*
*If I’d died there, regretting “I let my guard down” would be pointless.*
He had to prepare. Stay ahead.
Reborn as Derek, he had one goal:
*Survive.*
Only survival granted the right to live. To enjoy life.
But his position was precarious.
He belonged to the villain’s camp—the heir being groomed by Duke Wudewen.
Yet he wanted nothing to do with the Duke.
Powerful as he was, the Duke was merely a mid-tier boss in the “fate” of this world. Destined to fall to the heroes. Only a fool would ally with him.
But escape was impossible. Trapped in this villain’s nest, he’d have to perform evil deeds to fool the Duke.
Except it wasn’t that simple…
This den of villains housed a righteous spy—Xinzel Yuka.
A Gold Rank Assassin whose sense of justice could awaken any moment, turning him into a turncoat.
Worse, Xinzel acted freely. Tonight proved it: scaling trees, spying—effortless.
Remembering those cold eyes in the tree, Derek shuddered.
He strode to the balcony, yanked the heavy azure curtains shut, blocking the night’s darkness. Only then did a flicker of safety return.
Xinzel’s presence forced his “evil” to be measured. Too much, and the steward might snap—delivering a righteous knife to his back.
Juggling the Duke and Xinzel already frayed his nerves. Then he’d tangled with the future Holy Maiden.
He’d only meant to save Teresia’s mother. Instead, he’d drawn Teresia herself.
And her ambush revealed a terrifying truth: Witch Claudius had marked him. Loved him—with a twisted, obsessive hunger.
*Why?!*
*Was he so handsome even witches grew desperate?*
He’d never seen his reborn face.
Derek approached the silver mirror.
*Well…*
*This guy’s ridiculously handsome.*
His game avatar had looked good, but reality amplified it. Only one flaw marred the perfection: the inherent aura of a villain. Even without trying, his face radiated aloof coldness—a silent “keep out” sign.
He tried softening his expression. Failed. Arrogance and cruelty surfaced naturally instead.
A smile. That had to work. Warmth. Approachability.
He grinned at the mirror.
And gasped.
*What is this?!*
*Smoldering arrogance?!*
It felt like a K-drama lead’s scripted glance—CGI sparkles practically blinding him.
*If I can’t stand it, how will girls react?*
Suddenly, Witch Claudius’s obsession made sense. *She’s thirsty. For this body.*
Thinking of her again gave him a headache.
His reborn memories held no trace of flirting with her. This fixation was absurd.
*If only I could see my character stats like in the game. Clues must be there.*
As the thought formed, dazzling light flashed in the air.
It faded. A mysterious card hovered before Derek.
On it—a startlingly familiar silver-haired man.
SSR: Derek Wudewen.
