THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 2 2: Between two worlds (2)

-Frey Starlight POV -

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My eyelids fluttered open. A piercing, high-pitched ringing echoed in my ears, making me feel as though I had just emerged from a coma lasting years.

The first thing I saw was that ridiculously bright ceiling. Beneath me, I was sprawled across a bed that could easily rival the size of a stadium…

This marked the second time I had woken up to this exact sight. To be honest… I had no desire to see it a third time.

Processing my circumstances took only a few moments, and I couldn't hold back a miserable groan of despair.

"Am I actually reincarnated inside my own novel?"

It was impossible… This nonsense about "transmigrating to another world" was supposed to be restricted to trashy fiction… This had to be a hallucination.

I took another look around the massive chamber I occupied, and the overwhelming level of detail forced a self-deprecating laugh from my throat.

A dream? What kind of dream possesses this much realism? What kind of dream inflicts a sense of agony more intense than anything I’ve ever experienced in the span of a few seconds?

I truly had been pulled into my own book.

Gritting my teeth, I pressed my fingernails deep into my palms. My mind felt like it was reaching a boiling point, and I couldn't stop myself from screaming at the top of my lungs:

"Why? Why? WHY? WHY FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE?!"

"Why did it have to be me?! I possessed a life… a family… I had—"

My voice shook with violent tremors as memories of my father, my kin, and my former existence rushed back…

A single tear fell while I muttered curses under my breath.

Suddenly, that hollow voice resonated in my ear once more:

["Synchronization complete."]

["Host memories successfully transferred."]

An avalanche of alien memories instantly flooded my brain. However, my mind remained fixated on that chilling voice.

Driven by pure fury, I bolted off the massive bed and began shouting toward nothingness:

"To hell with you and your synchronization, you bastard!"

"Who gave you permission to drag me here?! Who ever asked for a 'new life' from your rotten soul?!"

"ANSWER ME, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! Who begged for a second chance?!"

"Send me back… Give me back my life!"

"I don't need 'chances'… I already had everything I wanted! I don't want this existence—PLEASE… PLEASE JUST SEND ME BACK!"

I swung my arms wildly at the empty air before collapsing onto my knees. My rage evaporated, replaced by a suffocating sense of hopelessness.

"I’m begging you… please… I have a family… I have—"

Violent sobs wracked my body as the reality of my situation finally sank in. The memories of the original host continued to pour in without mercy, drowning out my pathetic cries.

Eventually, I was left with nothing but a final scream using every bit of energy I had left.

Naturally, my emotional collapse didn't happen in secret. Because of my earlier shouting, the room was soon swarming with people—though I didn't care in the slightest.

Only a single realization filled my mind: "I have lost everything."

...

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...

Several days passed quickly. Within the sprawling corridors of the Starlight estate, the servants whispered incessantly about the Young Master’s pitiful condition...

"The house has become disturbingly silent," one maid noted, exhaling a plume of smoke from the cigar she held while leaning against the window.

"It’s true... It looks like Young Master Frey has finally snapped..."

Two other girls stood nearby, clad in the type of elaborate maid attire usually reserved for films.

One of them whispered with a blank expression, "You think he’s gone crazy? That Frey? Hah... That’s impossible..."

The group turned their attention toward the somber, senior maid—their undisputed *senpai*.

"What makes you say that? Didn't you hear him howling and thrashing about like a madman?"

The veteran maid let out a heavy sigh, her tone thick with irony:

"That little monster would never lose his mind. I have been in his service since he was a child. If *I* haven't gone insane yet, how could *he*?" The faces of the younger maids turned white with fear.

"Miss Frederica! How can you speak so boldly? Aren't you worried he might overhear? I don't want to be his next target... especially after seeing what he is capable of..." The youngest maid shook, remembering the grim fate of those who crossed Frey.

Being targeted by Frey was a destiny far worse than death. You would remain his toy until you pleaded for your life to end—a fact everyone in the mansion understood perfectly.

"Tsk, tsk. This is why you youngsters never stay employed here for long," Frederica said, shaking her head at their lack of experience.

"In any case... the Young Master is likely... suffering from depression."

"Depression?"

Noticing their confusion, Frederica elaborated, "Yes. For the first time, that little devil has found someone to love besides himself."

The maids gasped collectively: "The daughter of the Moonlight family head...?"

Frederica gave a nod. "He is obsessed. But it appears his feelings are not returned. She isn't a girl he can simply take by force—the Moonlights are a Sect that rivals even the Starlights."

She took another puff of her cigar before adding darkly:

"Don't get too comfortable with this peace, girls. His temper will flare up again soon... and we will be the ones to suffer for it. Keep your wits about you~"

With those words, Frederica departed, leaving the others in a state of dread.

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- Frey Starlight POV -

Once again, I opened my eyes while lying on this wretched bed. "The seventh time."

For seven days, I have woken up to this same cursed ceiling.

Any lingering hope that this was just a bad dream had withered away long ago. Now, I was nothing more than a hollow shell resting on an extravagant mattress.

A full week had gone by since I was launched into my own story—imprisoned in the body of the antagonist, Frey Starlight.

He was the most loathed individual in my narrative... a villain who earned everyone's contempt.

If the protagonist didn't end him, one of the heroines surely would.

If not a heroine, then another primary character would take the shot.

Even the other villains in the story found Frey repulsive.

To put it bluntly—he was marked for death. That was his only purpose.

Really? After absorbing his memories, I saw just how depraved he truly was. He had committed atrocities I hadn't even bothered to write down...

And to think, he is only sixteen years old. What a bright future.

I am well aware that the death flags are stacking up. But does it matter? To me? Haha... to hell with it all.

I have no desire to even exist in this world.

At one point, I tried to turn a blade on myself—to wake up from this nightmare.

I genuinely wanted to die.

However, the reality was this—my hand became paralyzed the moment the sharp edge touched the soft skin of my throat.

Who was I fooling? Committing suicide? Ending it all?

I lacked the courage. I didn't possess a single drop of resolve.

It was only then that I understood how truly pathetic I was.

Consequently, I spent the last week doing… absolutely nothing.

I ate. I used the restroom. I bathed. I slept. I repeated this soul-crushing cycle seven times.

Many people came to see me, but I gave them no attention. They left in a state of confusion.

Frey is destined to die eventually. Since I couldn't bring myself to do it, I’ll simply wait for someone else to finish the job.

The past few days were quiet. Frey—the Young Master of the prestigious Starlight family, one of the three dominant human noble houses—lived in disgusting wealth.

I found myself particularly fond of the bath. The previous soul in this body was a fanatic for hygiene, and I had inherited his obsessive-compulsive traits, resulting in me bathing twice a day.

I hated these physical habits, feeling as though Frey's personality was slowly overwriting my own. But I didn't care.

I have no wish to live here.

I just want to fade away quietly in some corner.

So, I rolled over in bed. The sun was already up, but I chose to keep sleeping. Until the demons began their major offensives, very little would happen in this world—especially for a clan like the Starlights. I had an infinite amount of time to kill.

After all, the core plot wouldn't kick off for another year, when the protagonist and the rest of the cast enroll in the Temple.

The territory of mankind had contracted into a single massive empire, formed because the relentless demon invasions had nearly wiped humanity out.

But humans are resilient. They tapped into unique powers and, after a history of bloodshed, managed to hold the demons back—to an extent.

To strengthen their ranks, humanity combined all its technology and progress to create a facility where the next generation of leaders could undergo Cultivation: the Temple.

Regardless, the events at the Temple were still twelve months away.

I sighed, shifting my position. "Just hurry up and kill me..."

I let myself drift back into sleep, ignoring the world.

...

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...

"I couldn't just stay asleep forever, could I?"

I was perched at my desk, aimlessly doodling on papers… occasionally glancing at videos on my smartwatch, a piece of technology I still found unfamiliar.

After humanity was pushed to the edge of ruin, much of its history and civilization had been destroyed.

However, through immense effort, they had managed—partially—to recover and rebuild using modern tech fueled by the very power humans had discovered: Aura.

Yet, the restoration wasn't perfect. This was obvious in the peculiar architecture—structures that looked like a chaotic blend of the high-tech era and the medieval ages.

Well, I suppose I am the one to blame for that absurdity, being the author of this world.

I leaned back in my chair and let out what felt like my thousandth sigh of the day.

Under normal circumstances, a person would be thrilled to receive a second life… but I didn't want it. I had no use for it.

With every passing minute and every tick of the clock, I was haunted by thoughts of my family—of everything I had been forced to leave. That realization alone had pushed me into a deep depression.

Life is simply unfair.

~Knock, knock~

The tapping at the door broke my train of thought, but I didn't bother to see who it was.

A maid stepped inside and performed a graceful bow.

"Pardon the intrusion, my lord… A delivery arrived for you a short while ago. Following your previous orders, we confirmed it was entirely safe before bringing it to you, without opening the seal."

She set a medium-sized carton by the entrance, bowed again, and withdrew.

"I wish you a pleasant day, my lord."

The door shut, leaving me in solitude once again.

I had avoided speaking to the staff from the beginning, and it seemed they had grown accustomed to my silence.

Staring at the box on the floor triggered a faint memory—Frey had strictly forbidden the maids from ever looking inside his personal packages.

This was because he frequently purchased dangerous items. Given the superhuman abilities prevalent in this world, the staff could easily verify a package's safety without needing to see its contents.

Driven by pure boredom, I walked over and opened the box.

"Let’s see what sort of trouble you were buying, old man Frey…"

The moment my eyes landed on the contents, I froze—my eyes wide with shock.

How could I not be stunned?

My lips trembled as I reached down and lifted the familiar black hardware that had been my companion for years.

There was no doubt… This was my own personal laptop.

I placed it carefully on the desk, gazing at it like a lunatic.

Seeing the various scratches on its casing, I immediately remembered the day I had dropped it years ago.

This was the exact machine I had used for so long…

The very laptop on which I had typed out the chapters of my novel.

What on earth was happening? Was this some kind of sick joke?

With shaking hands and a heart pounding in my chest, I flipped the laptop open—staring straight into an uncertain future.