There Is No Hidden Villain in This Novel Chapter 2

For reference, the journey to the academy was quite entertaining.

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Interestingly, despite his personality, Cassis de Millang had good parents, and his father even shed a few tears while seeing him off.

And I, too, graciously accepted the love that wasn’t mine. I threw out an appropriate greeting and climbed into the car with the elegance befitting Cassis de Millang.

The moment the car took off, elegance be damned, I ended up biting my tongue.

“Right. This is a world where cars can fly in the sky…!”

Ordinary cars only travel on the ground, but expensive ones can soar through the air—a setting I don’t quite understand the purpose of. Honestly, it feels like a setup thrown in just to make aerial chase scenes look cool.

But those aerial chase scenes were genuinely awesome, so I’ll let it slide.

The problem is that I have a slight fear of heights.

“This body doesn’t seem to have a fear of heights, though.”

Normally, my heart would have been pounding like crazy, but it was calm. Thanks to that, I managed to settle my near-panicked mind. All I had to do was close my eyes and pretend to be tired.

As I did so, the driver, sensing my mood, quietly played some classical music. I noted that Cassis de Millang’s usual playlist was rather refined and drifted into a light sleep. When the car’s wheels touched the ground, the shift in balance woke me up.

I’m not sure if he was trying to wake me or what, but I saw the driver, who had been reaching toward me, freeze stiffly.

What would Cassis de Millang say in a moment like this?

“Get your hand away. It’s disgusting.”

“I’m, I’m sorry.”

Wow. Letting loose the words I’d been holding back for the sake of social decorum felt incredibly refreshing.

Is this why people shouldn’t bottle things up?

“…I’m really sorry!”

But it seems the driver wasn’t one to bottle things up either, because he suddenly pulled a pistol from his puffed-up sleeve and aimed it at me. Just as he was about to fire, my hand, moving on its own, brutishly blocked the barrel’s opening. Naturally, I don’t know how to wield any fantasy “energy,” but in that moment, I felt something ripple from my core, and everything surged into my palm at once.

Then, a muffled gunshot, as if something was blocked.

“Ah, ugh. Damn it—”

Wow, is this what the life of a final villain is like?

Perhaps for self-preservation, my instincts had focused energy into my palm, preventing it from being pierced. Instead, it was just bloodied and tattered.

As I crushed the barrel with a grip that refused to yield, the driver, realizing his fate, tightly shut his eyes. I snatched the gun and struck his head with it.

Thud, thud, thud…

Wow. What a wretched life. What a wretched Cassis de Millang. My breathing grew ragged. Whether it was from my heaving breaths or the smell of blood lingering in the car’s air, I couldn’t stand the heat. I tore off my blood-soaked tuxedo gloves and threw them onto the driver’s cracked skull. My vision spun. And now, damn it, what do I do?

At that moment, a ringtone sounded. My phone lit up. I laughed, seeing my half-crazed eyes reflected on the screen.

The text on the screen read: Security Team.

I answered the call.

[Young Master, it sounded like a gunshot. Are you—]

Isn’t it funny?

Calling the heir “Young Master” and waiting around until he bashes an assassin’s head in before doing anything—those are supposed to be security agents.

“Shut up. You slack off on protection because my paycheck doesn’t come out of your pocket, and now you dare open your mouth?”

[…May we enter?]

“Are you joking? Why don’t you wait until I’m a corpse before coming in?”

It seems Cassis de Millang didn’t trust his security team, likely because he believed in his own strength. Or maybe something happened to justify that distrust. If he made them seek permission even to enter, it could just be his obsessive need for control.

I’m not Cassis de Millang, damn it, so I can’t even properly handle one idiot with a gun.

“This is messed up.”

The life of a final villain is a complete trainwreck. Recalling the story’s descriptions, I pulled a golden potion from the shoulder holster I was wearing, bit off the cap, and was about to pour it when the security team opened the door. They froze, gasping at the sight of me.

Damn it. These idiots are supposed to be my security?

“What are you staring at? Do I need to gouge out your eyes to get you moving? Deodorizer and a new uniform in my size. Make it or steal it, I don’t care—bring it. You have five minutes.”

“…Yes, sir!”

“And investigate this guy. Find out his motive and who sent him.”

“…Yes!”

They answer well, the idiots.

As I finally pried off the cork with my teeth and poured the golden potion over my palm, the security team approached me, leaning against the less blood-splattered backrest with my legs crossed. They removed my gloves with pale faces and began wrapping the crushed body in something. Unbelievable.

“Are they experts at hiding bodies or what?”

Of course, it makes sense for this world. Recalling the setting, I remembered something.

Civilians with guns were far too weak to protect mana-awakened individuals known as conquerors.

Unlike before my possession, ordinary security agents were essentially hired to act as errand runners for conquerors.

And even now, before entering the academy, Cassis de Millang was already making a name for himself among conquerors. As a cheat-like existence far beyond a typical prodigy, most escorts probably just got on his nerves.

That’s likely why he lived such a bold life without proper protection.

I get it.

“…Did I underestimate this dark fantasy world too much?”

I never expected to face a near-death experience from a driver while napping in the backseat. If the talent ingrained in this body wasn’t this exceptional, I’d be dead already.

Ugh. I hate this…

“If this keeps up, I’m going to have to study my ass off…”

My original plan didn’t involve intense studying. I genuinely intended to empty my mind, just like I used to. But in this insane dark fantasy world, I’d at least need to get stronger to protect myself.

The problem is, I didn’t know any of the techniques, magic, formations, spear skills, swordsmanship, or archery that this body used to wield effortlessly. I couldn’t even freely control the “energy” that’s so crucial in this world. The moment earlier when the “energy” resonated with my will was just my instincts screaming not to die.

If I keep relying on luck without effort, I’ll end up dead on a bad day.

So, to survive, I’m stuck having to study like crazy.

“It’s been ages since I graduated high school…!”

To make matters worse, there’s another condition for clearing this mission.

I absolutely cannot let anyone find out I’ve gotten weaker.

If they do, all the feats Cassis de Millang has shown so far will be dismissed as flukes, and the noble House de Millang will behead him for tarnishing their name.

The House de Millang, those damn bastards, don’t even fully acknowledge Cassis as heir because of some nonsense about his bloodline. If his abilities falter, it’s instant death.

“So damn archaic. Are you guys Voldemort or what?”

Complaining won’t change anything. That’s just how this world works.

I steeled my resolve a bit more, verbally tore into the security team for taking ten minutes to bring a uniform, changed clothes, sprayed deodorizer, and stepped out of the car.

Forcing myself to stay mentally composed, I thought leisurely things like, “The outside air is refreshing, feels good,” when—

“Dalgona?”

The smell of dalgona wafted from somewhere.

Since I’d left early, there was plenty of time before the entrance exam. Of course, Cassis was already a confirmed enrollee, so I had even more leeway. Following the sweet scent that forcibly lifted my mood, I wandered over and saw a dalgona stall.

It was a small setup in a narrow alley, but business seemed slow, and the vendor looked exhausted. In front of the stall was a kid with wide eyes, exclaiming “Wow!” and “Ooh!” while drooling.

The kid clearly had no money. Judging by their dirty, ragged appearance, they probably couldn’t afford dalgona. But I could eat dalgona if I wanted to.

So, I crouched down beside them, and the vendor, who had been lifting his weary head, suddenly widened his eyes.

His trembling pupils and parted lips looked ready to blurt out my name. I gave a cold smile and raised my index finger.

“Shh.”

The vendor quickly shut his mouth, catering to my mood. His reaction was faster than I’d expected.

“Hmm, satisfying.”

Humming lightly, I picked out a few dalgonas and started carving them into shapes. Playing with dalgona after so long, under the threat of death and blood, felt like it purified my heart with childlike innocence. But, of course, carving dalgona didn’t go as planned, and I ended up crushing the dalgona into pieces in my attempt to cleanse my soul.

The kid next to me cheered loudly with every piece I carved, shouting, “Wow! Oh… what a shame. Ugh, oof. Try harder! One more!” The vendor, baking dalgona, turned pale and trembled each time, making it amusing to raise my finger at him.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“Aw… too bad. Bye, oppa.”

Yeah, it’s about time for the entrance exam, so I should go.

My fingers were ridiculously sticky. I wiped them with a handkerchief, but I probably won’t want to touch dalgona for the next year.

Plus, I’d smelled so much sweetness it was overwhelming.

And who crouches on the street to enjoy the taste of cheap sugar candy? It’s about the fun of carving shapes.

“Before I go.”

“Yes, yes?”

“This is for you.”

I tossed the broken dalgona pieces, packed by the vendor, into the kid’s arms. The kid seemed confused for a moment, then their eyes widened with joy as they bowed deeply.

Seeing the full-moon-like happiness on the kid’s face, even a rotten person like me couldn’t help but laugh for a moment.

As I stood up from crouching and turned my head—

“…Huh.”

My heart dropped with a thud.

Our eyes met.

—With the protagonist of this novel.