Blessed to be the Villain

Chapter 11: I'm going mad



A New Reality

Lara's Perspective

The warm water cascaded over Lara's body, washing away the grime and sweat clinging to her skin. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back as the heat seeped into her muscles, loosening the tension in her shoulders. For a fleeting moment, the sensation was soothing. But peace was an illusion—one shattered the instant her thoughts turned back to last night.

Her grip on the tile wall tightened, knuckles paling.

"I need to leave."

The contract kept her safe—for now. But it was just a temporary shield, a fragile barrier that could crumble at any moment. As soon as her brother returned, she would be gone. She didn't know where, didn't care. As long as it was far away from him.

Far from that bastard's reach.

Her golden eyes darkened, rage coiling inside her like a serpent.

"That bastard. That evil, insufferable man."

Her teeth clenched. The contract might prevent him from harming her, but it did nothing to erase the memory of what he had done. And worse…

Lara's breath hitched. Her fingers, as if moving on their own, brushed against her lips.

That sensation…

Even now, after everything, she couldn't bring herself to hate it.

"Damn it…" she whispered, her voice trembling with frustration.

Heat surged up her neck as shame and anger warred within her. Then, without thinking, she stomped her foot against the wet floor.

Splash!

The sound echoed off the marble walls. But it wasn't enough. The boiling rage within her needed more. She stomped again.

"Aaaa… Aaaa… Aaaa!"

Each stomp was a futile attempt to erase the memory, to drown out the lingering ghost of his touch.

"How could he?!"

Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her damp palms. Her fire—her very essence—had failed to burn him. She had poured everything into that last attack, into that desperate attempt to make him suffer.

But he had endured. No—he had mocked her.Worse still, her own body had betrayed her.

She wanted to forget. She wanted to erase every moment of last night from her mind. But the more she tried to push the memories away, the clearer they became.

And then…How could she? How could she make those sounds? How could she move like that?

A vivid memory surfaced. Ethan's startled expression. His amused voice.

"You're moving like that on your own? That's called the cowgirl position, you know."

"Aaaaaa!!"

"Aaaaaa!!"

Lara groaned, scooping cold water into her hands and splashing it over her burning face.

She turned to the mirror.

Her reflection stared back—golden eyes wide, purple hair plastered against her damp skin, her cheeks flushed a deep, unmistakable crimson.

Her breath came in short, uneven bursts.

Her fingers trembled as they reached up, touching her lips again.

"How could you do that?" she whispered to herself. "How could you betray him?"

She searched her own gaze, as if expecting an answer—yet none came.

Just as she was about to look away, something caught her attention.

Her pupils.

Her entire body stiffened, a cold shiver creeping down her spine.

"Why… why are my pupils golden?"

---

Ethan's Perspective

Thud.

Ethan barely noticed the sound of stomping coming from the bathroom.

His mind was elsewhere—completely absorbed by the glowing status window in front of him.

His brow furrowed. His breath slowed.

"Am I in a game or something?"

"You're not."

Ethan jolted upright. His heart slammed against his ribs as his head snapped around, searching the dimly lit room.

"Who said that?"

"Yes, you did hear someone."

The voice—feminine, light, almost playful—spoke again.

His pulse pounded in his ears. A chill ran down his spine as he scanned the empty room.

"Who's there?" he muttered under his breath.

"It's me! The system!"

His gaze shot back to the status window, but nothing had changed. His fingers twitched.

"The system?" he repeated, feeling absurd even as the words left his mouth.

"Mhm! That's me!" The voice sounded way too cheerful for his liking. "Well… I mean, technically, I'm inside you… wait, not inside you that way! I mean, I exist within your mind—no, your soul realm! Yeah! That's it! Do you know about soul realms? Everyone has one! Except me! But that's fine, because I'm a system, duh! Hehe!"

Ethan stared blankly.

His eyelid twitched.

He lifted a hand and pressed it against his forehead, dragging it down his face with a groan.

"Did I get a defective system…?"

"Heeey! I heard that!" The voice huffed, sounding almost offended. "I am not defective! Maybe a little weird, but definitely not defective!"

Ethan felt something inside him snap.

He grabbed his head with both hands, his expression crumpling into one of utter devastation.

"I'm going mad…" he muttered.

"No, you're not!" The system sounded almost consoling now. "You're perfectly sane, Host!"

Ethan let out a hollow, despairing laugh.

"Oh, sure. I can hear voices in my head, and my name is not Randy Orton. But yeah, totally sane."

The system giggled.

"Pffft! What's a Randy Orton?"

Ethan groaned louder, burying his face in his hands.

He had survived whatever mess had landed him in this world. He had endured agonizing pain, near-death experiences, and now a cursed status screen.

But this?

This thing inside his head?

He might actually die of mental exhaustion first.

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