Derek kicked the swine sprawled on the ground again, hurling vicious insults without restraint.

He’d bottled up his words for so long after realizing his speech was flawed.

Now that he’d found the trick, he unleashed everything.

Thanks to his past life’s internet immersion, he possessed the noble spirit of a toxic gamer—every word sharp, passionate, and cutting.

After reciting a scripture of toxic rants, the little fat pig lost all dignity, reduced to agonized whimpers.

He longed to retort, but having never lived in Zaun, how could he match Derek?

All he managed were feeble grunts, morphing into pitiful squeals.

His prone position only amplified his humiliation—not because Derek’s kicks were too heavy, but because his own weight made rolling over a laborious feat.

Normally, servants would help him up.

But with Derek presiding, who dared approach?

His attendants could only watch helplessly as their young master suffered.

Since everyone cooperated so well, Derek didn’t hold back—two extra kicks, two extra curses.

Only when his mood lifted slightly did he finally stop.

The fat pig on the ground was now gasping for breath, utterly crushed.

His servants stood frozen, faces pale with terror.

*Only a villain can grind another villain.* As an antagonist, he dominated these spoiled brats effortlessly—wasn’t he now the ultimate spoiled brat himself?

Well, what else could he do? He *was* the villain.

Still, his blatant bullying must’ve worsened Teresia’s opinion of him.

That’s what Derek assumed.

But Teresia thought otherwise.

To her, Derek’s fury was righteous—a hero defending her honor.

His domineering stance while punishing that thug radiated such masculine charm! Her heart fluttered like a trapped bird.

*Was Derek really arrogant? Tyrannical? A villain, not a hero?*

*Nonsense!*

No matter what others thought, Teresia saw him as *her* hero.

After all…

*It’s not about what you think—it’s about what she feels.*

Teresia’s perception of Derek was tilting toward obsession…

Having finished his "lesson," Derek ignored the struggling swine and turned to leave.

Almost instinctively, he glanced at Teresia—as if confirming something.

Catching his gaze, Teresia instinctively looked away, her body twisting shyly. *He’s looking at me…* She felt flustered.

Derek, however, misread her entirely.

*Shy?*

*Impossible.* He recalled her boldness last night—how she’d practically climbed him, stripped eagerly, and plopped out of the carriage like a clumsy bear…

*Shyness?*

*Ridiculous.*

Her averted gaze was clearly disapproval.

In *Destiny*, Teresia’s character profile was clear: a Holy Lady who despised tyrannical villains and championed justice.

So…

*Damn. I’m toast.*

His relationship with her was deteriorating.

*Sigh.* He couldn’t afford to care anymore.

Whether Teresia liked him mattered less than avoiding her enmity. He *had* to protect this future Holy Maiden—ensure she’d help Leon defeat the Witch later. Only then could he break free from this cursed fate.

*Enough daydreaming.*

After that brief warm-up, it was time to continue shopping. Many stores still awaited his visit.

Leaving right after beating someone? Derek strolled off as if nothing happened—flawlessly embodying his villain role.

Armor and weapons held little appeal unless they matched game items. After browsing two or three shops fruitlessly, he abandoned hope of finding treasures in ordinary stores.

His target shifted to alchemy shops—specialized vendors of magical potions.

Since potions were essential combat consumables, Derek recognized many familiar items: Basic Health Potions, Basic Mana Potions, Stonehide Elixirs…

He decided to buy one of each for testing.

In-game, turn-based combat made potion effects obvious—stats updated instantly on character panels.

But in reality? The results were uncertain.

So he’d test them all.

*Worried about the cost?*

True, potions were expensive. But who was he?

Derek Wudewen—son of Duke Wudewen. Money was never an issue for the Wudewen estate.

Relaxing in a plush guest chair, Derek waited as shop assistants packed his purchases.

The owner hovered beside him, smiling obsequiously. Had he a fan, he’d likely wave it himself.

In Doranbar Kingdom, Derek’s influence was that absolute.

Nearby, Teresia stood quietly—but her eyes kept darting around. Everything in the alchemy shop fascinated her.

After her earlier incident summoning livestock, Derek dared not leave her unattended outside shops.

Teresia didn’t know he feared trouble; she thought he protected her from bullies. Her mood brightened instantly.

When the potions were packed, Xinzel surprisingly took the bag—worried Teresia might fumble and cause another disaster.

Amid the shopkeeper’s fawning smiles, Derek departed.

After aimless wandering, Derek felt he’d seen enough.

Just as he prepared to leave, a dazzling golden sign caught his eye: *Sterga Auction House*.

Prices along Jade Golden Phoenix Street catered only to royal elites.

Shoppers here were mostly nobles—except for one place even they hesitated to enter:

The auction house.

A realm where wealth alone determined worth.

Without sufficient coin, stepping inside meant humiliation. Nobles guarded their honor fiercely; they weighed their worth carefully.

The game’s lore barely covered side content like this Sterga Auction House, but Derek was intrigued.

Auction houses meant rare treasures. He’d step inside.

As Derek climbed the steps, a doorman suddenly bowed low, apologetic smile in place.

"My apologies, honored guest. Sterga Auction House holds no auction today. If you seek our wares, please return this Friday at ten AM. We’ll proudly display our offerings then—"

*No auction until Friday? Should he leave?*

Derek paused.

He’d come all this way. Why retreat?

Time was scarce.

Since he’d been reborn as a villain… why not exercise villainous privilege?

His voice dropped to an icy whisper, laced with contempt:

"Are you… dismissing *me*, Derek Wudewen?"