The Villain Purchased the Heroine

The day has gotten quite dark.

The cold night air jolts the loose skin awake.

In the distance, Erica can be seen walking. Wednesday afternoons are when she has specialized classes. Normally, she would head to the dormitory or the Student Council Room after class, but now she's heading in a different direction.

Seeing that, " " thought.

She must be on her way to meet Barghan at the place they promised to meet. She seems somewhat tense. Her steps are anything but quick.

Where has that confident stride gone?

Upon arriving at the meeting place, Erica meets Barghan. As soon as they meet, they start bickering, exchanging short conversations as they move.

Barghan leads the way, and she follows.

And behind them, something follows.

As experienced at the New Student Welcome Ceremony, an unpleasant sensation thickens within " ".

This emotion slowly fills up every time she gets to know Erica and sees her with Barghan. But…

It's strange.

It's undoubtedly Erica's.

Her skin.

Her hair.

Her voice.

Even the faintest scent that lingers.

It's definitely all hers.

Yet, there's an unsettling feeling.

Something feels different.

However, with no time to continue that thought, the two quickly start moving, forcing " " to follow them.

They head toward the bustling area of Academia. A place to buy clothes, books, various items, or to get a meal.

It seems Barghan plans to guide her through a shortcut. Instead of heading down the wide, open road where three people could stand side by side, he leads her through a narrow gap between buildings.

The sun sets, and darkness creeps in.

The lights illuminating Academia come on one by one. In contrast, the path they walk is dark and empty.

Erica and Barghan are close together.

Their hands seem so close they could touch at any moment.

Although they're not conversing, " " feels that same dense, semi-solid substance flowing down their throat.

" " is in distress.

She wants relief.

She wishes to spit out this impurity traveling down her esophagus.

For that, she needs a small sculpture.

" " hurriedly begins to search her belongings.

It's alright to search her possession. There's no risk of being caught. No noise, no smell, no sight will be detected.

The blessing she's received is different from magic; it's the power of Him.

Holding the small sculpture from her possession in her hand, " " feels a wave of tranquility wash over her. The sense that He is with her melts the impurity away. The sensation of being surrounded by sanctity without even having to pray.

The Great and Almighty One.

The Unique and Beautiful One.

A small sculpture resembling Him perfectly.

And then…

Suddenly, Barghan stops walking.

Erica stops with him.

Barghan looks back. He gazes into the empty darkness. As if staring at dust floating in the air.

It really feels like there's something here.

What dwells in those cold eyes?

Laughter.

He raises one corner of his mouth and smiles, starting to chuckle. There's nothing funny at all. He wasn't having any particular conversation.

…Huh?

It's not moving.

『 』 has noticed the change. His feet won't budge. His hands won't move. Breathing is a struggle, barely managed, and even this feels rough. It's as if he might stop if he doesn't force the air in.

Vargan's gaze is unwavering.

He is focused on one spot.

All that's in his sight should be floating mana and air, yet he can't even see that. It's as if someone else is there.

As if.

He is aware of 『Borg』's presence.

"Hahaha! Young Master, looks like that fellow finally caught on, huh? His expression is all twisted!"

Borg screams.

No.

She wouldn't make such a light-hearted laugh. She doesn't have that indecorous expression or peculiar tone.

Erica. Erica, who resembles that person!

"It's the first time we're facing each other since the entrance ceremony, huh, pig of the Langfit family? But there's no need to squirm. It would all be in vain for someone at your level anyway."

Vargan dismisses him.

He has noticed Borg gathering mana. Borg is flustered. Even with the blessing granted by that person, the flow of surrounding mana can't be concealed. Vargan has sensed it.

"Look at your feet."

With Vargan's words, permission for action is granted.

Borg looks down at his feet. He can barely move his toes. The stickiness clinging between the shoe soles and the ground. The thick, gooey substance.

A strange blackness, like coal, clings to him.

He starts to move little by little. Or rather, it appears that he's moving. In reality, he's frozen, but it seems like he's flowing, his appearance constantly changing.

Mouth, eyes, ears.

The forms of those things being pushed along the current can also be seen.

"That adorable creature in slime form is one of my familiars. He's quite shy, so he rarely shows himself outside, but today he's specially allowed out."

Vargan speaks lightly, almost playfully. He is enjoying the situation.

"Isn't it cute that it's in a slime form? One might want to play around and accidentally eat it while it's biting wide open."

The goo crawls.

His familiar starts to crawl up Borg's body.

Slowly, slowly.

As it climbs, it soon brings parts of itself up to Borg's neck.

And someone resembling Erica approaches. She definitely seems to see Borg.

"I'm sorry~ But this is also an order, you know. Ah, I'm curious because I've never fed a familiar to a human before! But it won't hurt, I promise. Now, open wide! Aah~."

She precisely clamps her hand over Borg's mouth, forcing it open. Borg wants to refuse, even if it means cutting off a finger, but his body won't listen.

"Keep it open just like that! It'll be quick!"

The madness in the expression of a child playing with a new toy. That chilling sight makes Borg's breath quicken even more.

The familiar reaches his mouth. His throat and chest are covered in its gooey form. Though he's lost control of his body, the sensations still reach him.

Sticky.

It enters his open mouth.

Cells inside his mouth transmit horrific information about the creature. Unwanted sensations, flavors, and scents.

It brushes against his uvula. Nausea rises, but he can't vomit.

Swoosh!

As it pushes through the uvula and into the esophagus, the creature suddenly speeds up and forcefully enters.

"Wow, it really goes all in?!"

The one mimicking Erica exclaimed with sparkling eyes.

⎯Cough! Cough!

As he feels it completely inside, the blessing snaps, revealing Borg's form, but he regains control over his body.

As Seok fully stepped inside, the blessing was lifted and Borg's figure became visible, but he had regained control over his body.

He collapsed onto the floor. Trying to expel the familiar that had entered him, he felt a sickening lack of response.

Tears and snot – his face was drenched in all sorts of liquids.

From Borg's viewpoint, Vargan's foot came into view.

Vargan bent down and picked something up. A sculpture that had fallen when he collapsed. Examining it closely, he spoke.

"Pretty skilled, huh? Looks quite a bit like Erica. You'd be better off becoming a sculptor than a hero."

"Ugh…!"

As the image of what he had swallowed resurfaced, nausea rose up again. But when Vargan touched his shoulder, it went down.

He was casting healing magic.

"You must have a lot of questions. However, I'm not that kind of kind to tell you everything one by one. Let me tell you just two things."

With a face close to Borg's, Vargan extended one finger from his clenched fist.

"One. What you just swallowed can be controlled by me at any time, anywhere. Its specialties are shape-shifting and mana absorption."

'If that thing starts to bounce around inside you, you'll be dead in no time,' Vargan added with a shudder just imagining it.

With two fingers up now, he continued.

"Two. From today on, you must follow my orders. You will act as I command and think as I direct. …Oh dear, doesn't seem like you're in a good mood at all. I can feel your anger clearly."

Vargan opened his hand completely. In it was what seemed to be a fragment of the familiar Borg had just swallowed.

"I didn't mention it, but emotions can be shared too. From today onward, your sorrow, joy, pleasure, despair – all your emotions will be shared whenever I want them to be. Didn't they say joy shared is joy doubled?"

Vargan chuckled.

He brought the sculpture closer, continuing his unfinished thought.

"But to crave another's fiancée, you truly are a corrupt one."

He continued.

"Like a 'pig' driven solely by desire."

"Ugh, you bastard…! Ughhhhh!!"

Borg yelled.

He thought his heart might explode from opening his mouth.

It felt like someone was squeezing his heart, shattering it all over the place.

But the heart was still alive. Right now, the violent beating was proof of it. It was as if it wanted to escape from his body.

"Guhh…!"

When Borg looked up at Vargan, he saw a grin at the corner of his mouth.

"…Guh!!"

Thick veins popped up on Borg's face while the capillaries around his eyes burst and turned red.

Vargan laughed derisively, looking down on him.

"What fierce anger! So thick and sharp. But you know, it's a wasted emotion on you. The one responsible for this mess is none other than you. Blaming me for it just doesn't add up."

A strange sound escaped Borg's mouth.

He wanted to say something, but the remnants of the pain he felt earlier held back his voice. Only the sound of the wind tearing could be heard.

"You made your presence too known. That's the root of this mess. You know, if you had acted inconspicuously, I might not have noticed you. From now on, you will become my puppet, the object of your hatred. How pitiful."

"Guh, ahhh…!!"

Borg was overtaken by the singular thought of wanting to kill Vargan.

Under normal circumstances, he would have interrogated Vargan about what information he held, but he was so consumed by rage that such thoughts didn't even cross his mind.

Unless he killed him, this fierce flame of Borg's wouldn't die down.

As his emotions heightened, adrenaline flooded his system, dulling the pain, and finally, a voice came out from Borg's mouth, just a little.

A voice, though weak, finally escaped from my lips.

It was shaky, but I managed to pull out a line.

"Y-You're telling me… to listen to you? I'd rather kill myself… you bastard… argh."

When the questionable death of a believer spread, the Goddess Church wouldn't sit idly by.

He thought that his death would lead to harm for Vargan.

"…Hmm. I suppose that would be best."

Vargan, who had been quietly observing the commotion, finally moved.

"Do you know what 'repentance' means?"

"…What?"

"It means to completely repent for one's sins and become a new person."

Suddenly, Vargan grabbed Borg's face roughly.

Unlike Borg, who revealed his hatred, Vargan appeared to be enjoying himself.

"Usually, it's the individual who realizes this and changes themselves, but it can also happen through an outsider's influence. In the end, it's merely a shift in thought."

Vargan faced Borg's anger, his black eyes seeming to shimmer.

"I'll tell you this especially. I primarily deal with curses and familiars among the magics. And within the subfield of curses, there exists 'brainwashing'."

I want to conduct an experiment.

How much can a person change with a certain amount of repetition?

You will have the honor of being the first subject.

He added such words.

The sentences unfurled like waves in Borg's mind, gradually blurring his focus. That sentence was the last moment Borg would ever remember.

⎯Ocell Lampit Borg. Poor pig. You shall become the bridge between me and the Goddess Church.

*

"Is he dead or what?"

Naias, taking the form of Erica, asked, poking the guy lying on the floor with her finger, playing around.

The one who had confronted me with the name Lampit during the entrance ceremony was now in this sorry state.

I might have called him a pig wrapped in high-quality cloth, but I didn't expect him to be like this. A stalker-level insane pervert. Just looking at him gives me the creeps.

Well, even so.

"There's no way he's dead. He's a precious body that will become my game piece."

"A student of the Academia and a noble too, so wouldn't that be a problem?"

She asks casually, knowing she wouldn't care regardless. Naias was just curious.

"I could simply wipe him clean, but adjusting him to my taste is practically impossible. The core traits must remain as he possesses them. However, I can erase the distinction between pre-existing knowledge and newly injected knowledge or add substances released during specific thought processes."

"Doesn't that mean you've effectively changed him to your liking?"

"If everyone were as simple as him, I suppose that could be true."

"Scary, scary. I need to be careful too. But wow, that's impressive. In several ways, not many would believe a young master is a new student."

Naias grinned.

Having seemingly tired of tormenting the guy on the floor, she stood up and stretched.

"I've seen countless people in my life, especially among humans, but you're the first of your kind, young master."

Naias began circling around me like an excited child.

"You know, I'm really thrilled right now. It's so fun! Our young master, who contracted with me, feels like a human without love for humanity, almost like me, a spirit!"

"So then. What do you want to say?"

Naias stopped. The unchanged gaze of her as Erica was fixed directly on me.

In her eyes was something pure and innocent like a child's, yet it didn't belong to a human.

"Are you really human, young master?"