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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 · Fantasía
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44 Chs

Heroes [VII]

"I know we're in the middle of a fight and you hate me… but would you mind telling me what's your total score tally now… now that I've broken one of your orbs?"

Michael didn't even register what I said.

He kept looking down at his belt, where one of the three orbs were missing, already shattered into obsidian shards.

Then, he clenched his jaw tight.

"You're dead," he whispered, his head hung low and dark eyes shrouded in shadow.

I tilted my head. "Sorry, what was that? I didn't hear you. I'm asking what's your total score now."

"You're dead!" Michael roared, snapping his head up and glaring at me with burning fury.

"Uh-oh," was all I got to say before the Card hovering above Michael's shoulder flashed in a blinding green glow and changed.

He had copied another Origin Card.

Suddenly, countless thick vines shot up from the ground under my feet and wrapped around my legs, shackling me in place.

I tried freeing my legs by cutting the vines with my blade, but I was only able to break free a single leg by the time Michael was upon me.

I raised a knee just in time to block his kick to my gut. It still hurt, but it gave me a chance to free my other leg.

Because of that, though, I was slow to react when the protagonist shot a quick roundhouse kick at my skull and sent me reeling to the side a couple of steps.

I crashed into the ground hard but quickly sprang back up to one knee.

I frantically glanced up to see Michael's Card had changed again, this time turning dark brown with an orange glyph engraved on its surface.

Once again, I didn't have a chance to dodge as a glowing whip of light came swinging at me.

I was, however, able to raise my sword to block the attack with the flat side of the blade. By the time I was on my feet, Michael's Card had changed one more time.

His new copied power gifted him the ability to engulf his right arm in searing flames, capable of burning things with a touch.

Since it looked like a close-quarter ability, I immediately retreated and conjured a fire arrow in my grasp before hurling it at him.

But this time, instead of deflecting or blocking it with his sword, Michael caught the arrow with his burning arm, spun, and threw it back at me!

"Tch!" I clicked my tongue and moved out of the way of the incoming arrow as it struck the ground and exploded on impact behind me.

By then, Michael was once again face-to-face with me, his flaming fist rocketing toward my jaw.

I pulled my head back, evaded the blow, and took a single step back before countering by thrusting my sword at his ribs.

The protagonist responded by grabbing my blade with his burning hand. I tried to yank it off his grip, but he didn't let go.

The flames surrounding his arms surged, and the spot where he grabbed my miao dao began glowing red-hot.

"No, no, no! Leave the sword!" I shouted in a panic. "I just stole it—uh, I mean, I just got it as a generous gift from a kind young man!"

Michael, unfazed by my ranting, raised his sword and brought it down upon mine, hitting the exact point where the steel had turned incandescent from the incinerating heat of his flames.

Predictably, my miao dao snapped in two, dissolving into a burst of sparks just like the Item Card that had given it its form.

"Ahh, damn it!" I groaned. "You know the kind young man who gave me that sword has a sister with a chronic illness! His father took out a loan to get it! What am I supposed to tell him now? That I broke his sword? What will happen to his family when they hear this news? I'm telling you, Michael, if something happens to his sister, it'll be all your fault!"

"You're disgusting trash," Michael spat with a flat expression and charged at me again, swinging his flaming fist.

I dodged easily and stepped back, but he followed up with a sword slash aimed at my chest.

I ducked under it… but it was a mistake. All of a sudden, a fist enveloped in blazing flames shot at my face.

Everything went black for a second.

The fist collided with the bridge of my nose, the agonizing impact aching through most of my forehead.

My face felt hot… and I think my eyebrows and eyelashes were scorched. I could feel the throbbing pain radiating from my forehead.

A pained yelp escaped my gritted teeth, but I managed to stand tall.

Unfortunately, I couldn't open my eyes in time due to the stinging discomfort of my burned eyelashes.

That gave Michael the perfect chance to slam his flaming fist into my abdomen. But I anticipated his move and twisted my body just enough to avoid him from hitting my solar plexus.

Still, the force of his blow made me gasp for air as I doubled over in pain.

"How does it feel to be on the receiving end for once, Young Lord Samael?" Michael's proud voice reached my ears, dripping with dark satisfaction. "How does it feel to be weak for once? Do you feel as helpless as I once did before you? Do you feel scared?"

He raised his sword over my head, continuing, "I once thought of you as someone unreachable. I feared you like a sinner fears a god. You were an existence I could never hope to stand against. But here and now, as I stand before you, I see that you're not strong. You never were."

With that, he swung his blade down on me like a righteous executioner.

Thwaaam—!!

But before the strike could land, a concrete log shot up from the ground and slammed into Michael's chest like a battering ram, sending him flying back a few meters.

His sword slipped from his grip and clattered to the ground as he hit the earth. He hit the ground in a roll and quickly regained his footing.

I also stood up, rubbing my eyes. They were still stinging and watery and my vision was a bit blurry. After blinking a few times, though, it cleared slightly.

Glancing down, the first thing I noticed was a burnt hole in my jacket where Michael had punched me.

Then I looked at my orb, which had fractured slightly.

I glared at Michael, who was staring back at me with a hint of surprise. He must've noticed the golden Card hovering over my head.

Yes, I had decided to use my innate power.

I summoned my Origin Card close to my chest and touched the ground just before Michael could deliver a fatal blow.

Because I summoned it out of his line of sight, he hadn't seen my Origin Card and failed to predict my attack in time.

It was a cheap trick that wouldn't have worked if he had been more attentive instead of delivering that monologue.

For a second, I considered trying to keep my Origin Card hidden from his sight, since he could only copy the Origin Cards he could see.

I could've floated it around, concealing it with my body, but I decided against it in the end.

There were numerous reasons, but mainly it would have been too difficult and pointless. After all, I knew he possessed a Card that gave him X-ray vision.

Michael's lips twisted into a sharp smirk. "There it is. You finally decided to use it."

This was his game plan all along.

He knew there wasn't an Origin Card in this arena that I couldn't face… except my own. My power was highly versatile.

It wasn't the strongest by any means, but there were many ways to use it, especially in a battlefield where I could manipulate the changing terrain.

For example, when the terrain shifted into a shallow marsh, I froze the water and trapped a few Cadets.

When thorny brambles sprang up, I pushed them aside by erupting concrete pillars.

When sandstorms came, I raised walls to shield myself, and when earthquakes struck, I anchored myself to the ground.

I also trapped people in walls and created weapons from concrete.

So, yeah, I doubted there was a Cadet here with a power more versatile than mine.

That's why Michael had been forcing me to play my Origin Card by spamming various copied abilities at me.

Well, he got what he wished for.

Now he could copy my power and use it against me.

And he did just that.

His Origin Card turned golden, mirroring mine, and just like that, he had stolen my ability.

But instead of showing any hesitation or fear, I pointed at the scorched hole in my jacket and yelled, "Do you know how much this jacket cost me, you peasant? This was a luxury sports brand! A limited edition! And don't forget the shirt I'm wearing underneath that you also ruined! It was so expensive it'll take you a lifetime to pay for it! I'll sue you! I'll actually sue you for damaging my property—"

Before I could continue, Michael dashed toward his sword that had fallen beside me.

But I reacted faster and reached it first. Grabbing it, I used my ability and softened its steel before breaking its blade like it was made of cardboard.

The sword disintegrated into swirling light particles, and Michael's face flushed with rage.

"That's payback for breaking my sword!" I snarled, pulling a concrete lance from the ground as the protagonist charged toward me.