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

"Now you see?" she shouted in a mix of annoyance and disappointment. "You can't outsmart Scrients! They're the most intelligent beings across the two realms." "You're right," I muttered, averting my gaze with a heavy sigh. "I made a mistake. I was too arrogant to think that a mere human like me could fool them." —BOOM!! "Heik! Wh-What was that?" "Hmm? I'm not sure. Maybe you should go and ask the most intelligent beings across the two realms. Oh wait, you can't. I killed them all.” ______ My name is Samael Kaizer Theosbane. On the last day of high school, I got into a fight with a kid I used to bully. It was a stupid, pointless scuffle, and in the middle of it, I tripped and hit my head on a rock. That’s when the memories came flooding in - the memories of another life, of a different world. Suddenly, everything made a twisted kind of sense. I realized two things. First, I was in a game I used to play in my past life. Second, I was a villain. A villain! Not the cool and mysterious kind, either. No, my destiny was to be manipulated and die a dog's death! I was the worst type of cliché: an ungrateful, privileged, insufferable young master. The sort you'd find in those poorly written fantasy stories. The kind everyone hates — a snobby brat from a powerful noble family who thinks he owns the world just because he was born with a silver spoon lodged in his mouth. You know the type. The one the hero beats to a pulp to prove his worth. Yeah, I was that guy. And the hero? The hero was the kid I’d been bullying all this time. The same one I got into a fight with. He was the supposed savior of this damned world. A world teetering on the edge of destruction, beset by wars, calamities, and a grim future that only I knew. And at the end of it all, the final antagonist of the game, the undefeatable boss… the Spirit King, was waiting. But could I even make it to the end? Could I conquer a game where defeat was the only certainty? A game that was now my reality! “Ah, fuck it.” I had no idea if I could, but I sure as hell was going to try. Extorting extras, manipulating main characters, twisting the story to my advantage, stealing the hero’s cheat items, killing villains before they could become threats - nothing was beneath me. Would the main characters be affected? Who cares! Would the story change? Even better! All I cared about was me—my survival, my life, my choices. “I will live this life with no regrets.” …But as I soon discovered, fate was not easily changed. And the price of altering one's destiny was steep.

The_One_Who_Was · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
54 Chs

Bluff

Like most things material, money had never been a problem for me.

Born into one of the world's wealthiest and most influential noble families as the youngest son, I enjoyed all the riches that came with my title.

In simple terms, I had a silver spoon lodged up deep in my mouth from the moment I was born.

Privileged doesn't even begin to describe it, as is the case with most nobility.

And now, even after being practically banished from my family, money still wasn't much of a concern.

If worse came to worst, I could always pawn my jet and other valuables on the black market.

That would easily get enough to live lavishly for the next three years, even after covering my tuition every term, residence fees, and a few other pesky expenses.

It would've been worth even more, but I needed to buy Acquire Cards, and those weren't cheap. Even a Common-Grade Acquire Card could cost a small fortune.

And then there were my future plans – grand and audacious schemes that would require a significant amount of capital.

I sighed deeply, the kind of sigh that would make a dramatic actor proud.

After a moment, I shook my head and muttered to myself, "Actually, it's not that bad."

No, it wasn't that bad at all. It was the classic Reincarnated in a Novel/Game cliché.

I knew most of what would happen in the future, which meant I could very easily exploit upcoming plot events to make large profits.

All I needed was time.

But time was the one thing I didn't have.

By the end of the day, I would be going through the interview. I wasn't perturbed about the interview itself, but rather the tuition that would be set for me.

As I said, the tuition was based on how well you performed in the interview.

Do well, and you might be charged less. Do poorly, and you better start looking for someone to buy your kidney. 

Both kidneys, actually. And maybe a few other organs.

Not to mention, it was common knowledge that the Academy squeezed nobility for every last bit of Credit they were worth.

So, the tuition for nobles and gentry was significantly higher than that for commoners.

Talk about casteism.

If I remember correctly, the game's protagonist, Michael Godswill, was charged 10,000 Creds. He was one of the brightest, most intelligent prospective Cadets in the story.

I could easily expect triple that amount.

While 30,000 Creds wasn't an impossible sum, it wasn't exactly pocket change either.

To put it in perspective, with that much money in the old world's currency, you could rent a low-end penthouse in Chicago for a few months.

So, how was I going to get that much money in such a short period of time?

Well, there were many ways.

In fact, while reading novels in my previous life, I often used to think about these types of things.

Every time I read about a protagonist struggling with money problems, I instantly lost interest in the story because nine out of ten times, the main character was an idiot.

Part of the reason was also that I was suffering from desperate poverty in my past life to the point where I didn't want to read about it as well.

What's the point of escapism if I'm reminded of my real-life issues?

Besides, I always thought there were too many ways to overcome poverty in a fantastical world if you're the main character.

Like, it's absurd how some protagonists are exceptional at magic or combat yet remain poor. Just join tournaments with cash prizes or sell your services to a wealthy noble!

Then, there were characters with too many golden fingers. Simply ridiculous! Just sell one of those heavenly treasures from your arsenal, and you're set for life!

And then there were protagonists in a situation similar to mine.

Reincarnators, transmigrators, or regressors who don't use their special/future knowledge to make money in fear of changing the future are dumb.

I swear to the gods.

But then there were also comparatively easier ways to make quick money.

If you happen to be of high birth, like me.

What were they?

Well, simply walk up to a noble of weaker standing than yourself and extort them until you're satisfied.

Easy, right?

I know. That's precisely what I set out to do.

I strolled through the busy marketplace, hands tucked into the pockets of my pants. The place was bustling with prospective Cadets – nobles and commoners alike. All ripe for the picking.

The marketplace was exactly what you would expect upon first hearing the name. Stalls and all. There were also some major establishments, open cafes, and a few malls some blocks down the street.

As I walked, my eyes flicked from one potential mark to the next, looking for someone just foolish enough to be worth my time.

I couldn't just go up to the first noble I saw and ask them for their money. That would be idiotic.

After all, I was disowned by my family.

Technically, I held no standing. Even a Councilman's son could spit in my face and get away with no consequences.

That was why I needed to find someone perfect.

Someone who wasn't from the Western Safe-Zone. Someone who wasn't updated on current affairs, which would be difficult since the word travels fast in elite circles.

I needed to target someone who didn't know I currently held no political power.

Someone who wasn't rich enough to have many guards with them but not too poor to… well… be a waste of my time.

What's the point in taking from a beggar?

And then, after a quarter of an hour of plodding around, I finally spotted them.

My targets.

My perfect little targets.

A trio of friends.

Two boys and one girl.

They were standing by the side of the street, their infectious laughter and carefree demeanor practically begging for trouble.

From their banter, I could tell they were having a hard time deciding whether to have a late lunch first or go sightseeing.

They had that particular rich kids look – clothes tailored but not ostentatious. Confident, but not arrogant.

Just the right amount of balance.

Just the right level of affluence – enough to afford a little friendly shakedown, but not so much that they could stand up to a Duke's son.

They were low nobility.

Perfect.

I approached them with a lazy grin, my hands still stuffed in my pockets.

The Academy was severely understaffed during this time of the year.

Most of the Cadet Council had graduated by now, more than half of the senior Cadets had already left for home to enjoy a little time off, and almost all the Masters were busy with the interview or a myriad of other preparations to welcome a surge of prospective Cadets.

Yes, some senior Cadets were still roaming the streets, but they were too few to manage the overwhelming crowd.

They were merely keeping an eye out for anything serious.

So, this was the perfect time to carry out the sort of nefarious plan I was brewing.

No one would bat an eye at you unless you stabbed a pedestrian or bloodied someone's face. Certainly, no one would mind if I intimidated a few arrogant rich kids.

As I said, this was the perfect time to make some money.

"Good afternoon, my future friends," I greeted as I stepped closer to the trio, my voice dripping with mock warmth. "Or should I say… potential sponsors?"

They stopped talking, turning their heads toward me.

The tallest boy – clearly the unofficial leader – sized me up.

He had that bored, aristocratic look suggesting he could never be bothered to care too much about anything.

I knew that look. I had it on my face all the time.

The other was a shorter, thin boy with big round glasses that covered more than half of his face.

Standing between them was a petite young woman with light strawberry blonde hair.

All of them were dark-eyed and fair-skinned… with the slightest tint of blue around the edges of their pupils.

Frostborns.

They were from the North, a very secluded quadrant of the world. There was a high chance they wouldn't know about my disownment.

"Do we know you?" the tall boy asked in a tone full of polite disdain usually reserved for servants who had stepped out of line.

His accent was thick, as if he was talking from the back of his mouth or deep in his throat.

Yeah, that confirmed it. They were from the Northern Safe-Zone.

I cocked my head, putting on an almost innocent smile.

"Oh, you should know me. My name is Samael Kaizer Theosbane," I said, taking out my comm device with my official ID displaying on it, watching their eyes narrow just a fraction. "I'm sort of a big deal in certain circles… like yours."

Recognition flickered across the girl's face, and she went a little pale. Paler than she already was, which was saying something.

She elbowed the tall boy beside her and whispered urgently, "Theosbane! He's the Duke's son."

The tall boy frowned skeptically. "Wait, really? Isn't the Western Duke's family name Zynx?"

The girl shook her head slightly, her lengthy hair following the motion. "That's the other one. Lord Theosbane is the one they call the Dawn's Scourge."

"Ah, so you have heard of my family," I interrupted cheerfully. "That's really wonderful! Makes this so much easier."

I clapped my hands together to make a celebratory gesture.

The second boy, the shorter, nervous-looking lad with spectacles, furrowed his brows. "Wh-What do you want with us?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just a tiny amount of financial support from some noble peers. Think of it as an indefinite debt," I grinned, showing just a little too much teeth. "You see, for some reason, my bank account is frozen. I have no cash with me right now and no way of withdrawing the money I need for my tuition. So, as fellow nobles, I will give you the pleasure of helping me out."

"You're joking. I don't care if you're a Theosbane," the leader scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Why should we give you anything?"

"Why?" I echoed, feigning disbelief as if the answer were as obvious as daylight. "Well, because I asked nicely. And… I happen to be a man of some reputation."

I leaned in, dropping my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Not all of my reputations are flattering, mind you."

The boy with spectacles gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing furiously as if he were actually trying to swallow an entire apple.

"Listen… we don't want any trouble," he stammered, his voice sounding like someone who was easily frightened. And frightened he was.

"Of course you don't! Who in their right mind would?" I nodded with exaggerated sympathy. "Trouble is just so… troublesome. What with all the shattered egos, bruised faces, and heaven forbid – reports to one's parents. That would be, oh, what's the word? Ah, yes — mortifying."

The leader crossed his arms, trying to look resolute. "Is that supposed to be a threat? We aren't scared of you."

Well, he wasn't but his companions were definitely nervous.

I raised an eyebrow, a hint of subdued smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth.

"That's good. You shouldn't be scared of me. I'm not making threats. I would never stoop so low," I said, placing a hand on my heart as if swearing an oath.

Then, I widened my businessman-like smile. "But… you should be cautious of my father."

That landed.

The leader faltered, a flicker of uncertainty flashing in his eyes, betraying his stoic expression.

I couldn't blame him.

No matter what family you belonged to, from which region you hail, or how deep your noble bloodline runs...

In the upper echelons of society, there's a simple hierarchy.

Government officials bend to the Knight Council.

The Council serves the Count.

The Count bows to the Duke.

And the Duke, in turn, answers only to the Royalty.

In short, not many people would remain unmoved if the name of a Duke were to be thrown at them.

I pressed on, lowering my voice to a delighted whisper. "You see, my dear ol' dad has a reputation of his own… and he likes to keep tabs on his wayward sons."

I sighed theatrically. "I'd hate for him to think that on my first day here I've made… enemies."

The girl's face paled, her shock so palpable that she switched languages. "Enemies? Vad i helvete?! We don't even know you! We're not enemies!"

"Good! Great!" I snapped my fingers, the sound sharp and my tone cheerful. "Then let's keep it that way! All I ask is a small token of goodwill — let's say, fifty thousand Creds?"

The leader snorted, disbelief etched on his face. "That's robbery!"

I shrugged. "No, that's charity. Robbery is what happens if you say no."

The shorter boy sneakily took out his communicator device, no doubt to look me up online. I couldn't have that.

That top news headline after searching my name would make this whole bluff useless.

So I stepped in and casually draped an arm over his shoulders. He jolted in surprise and froze like a statue.

Before the taller one could muster a response, I continued, this time with a tone that suggested genuine sincerity.

"Look, you can think of it as a debt. If ever you ever need a favor, call on me. There's quite a lot I can do with my background. And you know what they say about my family. 'A Theosbane's debt is always paid,' and all that nonsense."

The three of them exchanged puzzled looks.

I scowled, feigning irritation. "You've never heard the saying?"

The tall one shook his head, still frowning in confusion.

I gave them a vaguely disgusted look. But just then, the boy under my arm began to recite the axiom:

"A Theosbane's debt is always paid,  

A Zynx's word is never swayed,  

A Valkryn's blade is sharp and true,  

A Morrigan's will sees all things through,  

A Drakren's fire burns bright and bold,  

A Kallith's honor is worth more than gold."

I glanced down at him, still holding him in place. He stared at his feet, anxiety radiating off him in waves.

"You're smarter than your friends," I said, flashing him a bright, approving smile before turning back to the others. "So, fifty thousand."

The pretty blonde hesitated for a moment before speaking, her tone flat and her accent thick, which only made her voice more pleasant to the ear.

"Look, we don't want to upset someone of your… standing. But we don't have fifty thousand Creds to spare," she said, treading carefully.

I tilted my head, confused. "Aren't you all nobility?"

Sure, fifty thousand Creds was a big sum to someone with nothing, but for nobles — even lower ones — it shouldn't be a big problem.

In fact, that would merely be two months' allowance for some of them.

Before the others could respond, the boy beneath my arm spoke again. "We are, but we just paid our tuition yesterday. So right now… we're a bit tight."

Ah, of course. They must've completed their interviews already, given they all were from the North so they got here before me.

Silly me.

This soured my plan a little. I was planning to squeeze them for a bit more than just the tution.

I could've still pushed them, but in the end, I decided against it. Desperate people tend to make rash decisions.

"Very well. Thirty thousand," I said, settling on a figure.

Another long span of tense silence followed before the tall one put on a stern face.

He was probably gearing up to argue before the girl intervened, perhaps sensing the futility of it.

"Fine," she said, her voice resigned. "But you will remember this favor."

I beamed at her, pulling out my own communicator again. It was a sleek, rectangular block of metal.

The device functioned the same as a smartphone, only it was much more advanced.

I gave them the code to my personal online wallet. They sent the Credits over grudgingly, their faces showing a varying degree of bitterness.

After it was done, I bid them a sweet farewell with the most gracious of smiles, turning on my heel to leave.

As I walked away, I heard the tall boy murmur something in his native language, undoubtedly cursing me and my whole familyline.

Poor souls. I almost felt bad. Almost.