Blessed to be the Villain

Ethan's mind sifted through his memories, searching for anything out of place—anything that might suggest the original Ethan had somehow half-awakened his bloodline. But there was nothing. No sudden shift, no new recollections. Everything seemed unchanged.

Then, as if answering his unspoken question, the system spoke.

"Host, the original owner of this body was already half-awakened from birth."

Ethan's eyes widened, a sharp breath escaping him.

"That can happen?" he asked, astonished.

"Yes."

For a moment, Ethan didn't know what to think. His thoughts raced, pieces of a puzzle falling into place, forming a realization he hadn't considered before.

"If that's the case… then it might explain why the original Ethan was such a playboy."

In this world, noble privilege was absolute, and with it came a sense of superiority over commoners. Many nobles indulged in their desires without restraint, seeing commoners as little more than disposable playthings. Some even forced themselves on those beneath them, taking what they wanted without a second thought.

But Ethan—the original Ethan—had been different.

Despite his reputation, he had never forced anyone. Never treated his lovers as mere objects. No, what he had truly enjoyed wasn't the act itself.

It was the chase. The seduction.

The slow unraveling of resistance, the delicate game of push and pull, the moment when his partner finally yielded—not out of fear, but because they wanted to. That was what had thrilled him.

And now, Ethan understood.

"That was the nature of his bloodline. The characteristic of a succubus… or an incubus."

A shiver ran through him as he recalled the moment with Lara. That fleeting yet intoxicating sensation when he had flirted with her. The way her golden eyes had widened in shy surprise, the faint pink dusting her cheeks as she flustered under his teasing words. He had felt something then—something dark, something exhilarating.

But he had brushed it aside, too focused on escorting her back. Now, though, it made sense.

A thought struck him suddenly. His fingers curled slightly as unease crept into his chest.

"Wait… if the original Ethan was already like that with only one percent of his bloodline half-awakened… then what would happen if I fully awakened it?"

His throat felt dry.

"System, if my bloodline fully awakens… would it change my personality?"

The air seemed to grow heavier as he awaited the answer.

"Yes."

The single word sent a cold weight sinking into his stomach.

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Ethan's fingers clenched into a fist at his side.

"So if I awaken it… I won't be me anymore?"

A dilemma gripped him. A war between survival and identity. But before he could dwell on it further, the system continued.

"But, Host… it has great benefits."

Ethan exhaled sharply, already bracing himself. "Let me guess, something stupid like 'You'll be irresistible to women'?"

But, against all odds, the system did not joke. Instead, its voice carried an unusual seriousness.

"It will suppress your curse even more."

Ethan's breath hitched.

"The curse…"

Although he had tried to push it to the back of his mind, it was always there—lurking, waiting. But the system had just said awakening his bloodline would suppress it further.

"More?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "Does that mean it's already suppressing it?"

"Yes, Host. Your bloodline is already weakening the curse's effects."

Ethan's pulse quickened. "How?"

"The curse is a bloodline curse, meaning it affects you through your very blood. But by awakening another bloodline, it disrupts the curse's hold on you, weakening its grip. It's already buying you more time."

Ethan's fingers twitched. Surprise, relief, and a flicker of cautious hope swirled within him.

"So there's a way… a way to possibly rid myself of it completely."

His mind reeled. He didn't have just one bloodline. He had three. If just one percent of his incubus bloodline was enough to suppress the curse for a while…

"Then what if I awaken all three? How much could the curse even affect me then?"

But then another thought struck him, ice-cold.

"If just one percent of an awakened bloodline could influence the original Ethan's personality so much… what would happen if I fully awakened all three?"

Wouldn't that warp him? Change his very being?

A sense of dread coiled in his gut.

He wanted to rid himself of the curse. But at what cost? Would he even recognize himself afterward?

Would he still be Ethan?

That thought terrified him.

Just then, a knock on the door shattered his spiraling thoughts.

Knock. Knock.

Ethan blinked, snapping back to the present.

A soft voice filtered through the door.

"Young Master, your breakfast is ready. Would you like to have it in your room or the dining hall?"

His mind was still in disarray. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

"I'll think about it later."

His gaze drifted across the room. The scent of burnt flesh still lingered in the air—an acrid reminder of last night's events. And beneath that, a faint, cloying musk of sweat and passion clung to the sheets. The bed was a mess, the evidence of the previous night still fresh in the disheveled covers.

He frowned. The servants need to clean this up.

Straightening his posture, he strode towards the door and pulled it open.

Outside stood a maid in her early thirties, her dark hair neatly pinned back beneath her cap. Dressed in the standard black-and-white uniform, she held herself with the practiced poise of a seasoned servant.

Yet as their eyes met, a flicker of surprise crossed her face—quickly followed by something else.

A faint flush dusted her cheeks. She averted her gaze, unable to meet his eyes.

"Y… Young Master," she stammered, voice barely above a whisper. "Your breakfast is ready in the dining hall."

Ethan tilted his head slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. He stepped closer, closing the distance between them with slow, deliberate movements.

The maid stiffened.

He lifted his hand, tilting her chin up with two fingers, forcing her gaze to meet his.

"Tell me, beautiful… are you on the menu for breakfast too?"

The maid's eyes widened in shock. Her blush deepened, spreading down to her neck. She sputtered, her breath hitching.

"W-What are you saying, Young Master?" she stammered, visibly flustered. "W-Why would I be on the menu?"

Ethan leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. His voice dropped to a husky whisper.

"Because you look delicious. If I could, I'd eat you right here and now."

A shudder ran through her. She jolted, as if struck by lightning, her body trembling under the warmth of his breath against her skin.

Her mind reeled, a dizzying heat flooding her senses. Yet, with a visible effort, she took a shaky step back, breaking free from his touch.

Her face was burning now, her hands gripping the hem of her apron as if to steady herself.

"Y-Young Master, you shouldn't say such things!" she stammered, nearly tripping over her words. "Your breakfast is in the dining hall—please, come!"

With that, she spun on her heel and hurried down the hallway, nearly fleeing as if escaping from a predator.

Ethan chuckled, watching her retreat with an amused smirk.

But then, his smirk froze.

His brows furrowed. A question surfaced in his mind, unbidden.

A whisper of realization.

"Why did I do that?"

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