Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 3

Within the world of “Psychedelia,” the Palatio Count’s household is depicted as the quintessential minor villain family. They serve as mere fodder, existing only to provide experience points for the protagonist before falling into obscurity.

In the context of the game, they were essentially background extras. Alon, however, possessed a significant amount of knowledge regarding the Count’s lineage because he had completed numerous sub-quests involving them during his playthroughs.

The experience rewards from the missions related to the Palatio family were remarkably generous.

Simply put, these characters were nothing more than stepping stones designed to strengthen the main character within the game’s mechanics.

That perspective only applied when viewing them through a screen, however. For Alon, who was now living in a reality where this game world had become his actual life, his perception of the Count’s family had shifted significantly.

While the game gave a brief description of the family “trafficking drugs and managing prostitution through a front called Avalon,” Alon had now witnessed the grim, fragmented reality of these crimes with his own eyes.

In fact, he was observing the consequences of their lifestyle at this very moment.

Alon shifted his focus slightly toward the front of the room. Before him lay a coffin containing the remains of Tonio, who had recently met his end.

For a man who had been a dominant figure in the kingdom’s narcotics trade, his passing was strangely hollow and lacked any sense of grandeur. Naturally, Alon was well aware that Tonio’s death was no mere accident caused by a fall.

To be honest, it would be more surprising if anyone in attendance was actually ignorant of the truth.

Alon glanced toward his side.

Standing next to him was Leo, the eldest son of the Palatio family, who stood with his head bowed and a faint, lingering smile. He had been locked in a fierce power struggle against Tonio to become the next family head.

Leo wasn't even attempting to mask his delight; his facial expression was completely unchecked. It was obvious to everyone that Tonio hadn't died from a simple stumble.

Despite the obvious foul play, not a single person raised an objection against Leo. The knights, the household retainers, and even Aldimore—the current Count and head of the family—remained silent regarding the eldest son’s actions.

Alon let out a quiet, mocking laugh as he observed the Count. Even at his own son’s funeral, the man lacked any shred of dignity, remaining preoccupied with women and narcotics.

Of course, Alon had no intention of intervening.

His own objectives were progressing smoothly without much effort on his part, and his only genuine concern remained the Five Great Sins.

With these thoughts in mind, Alon watched the final rites of the funeral conclude.

Just as the lid was being placed on Tonio’s coffin to seal it forever—

“Hmm…?”

A sudden uncertainty flickered in Alon’s mind.

During his time playing the Palatio family arc in the game, only Leo had ever appeared. Because of that, predicting Tonio’s demise hadn't been difficult for Alon.

However, he started to question the nature of Tonio’s death because of something Leo had shouted while being defeated by the protagonist in the original story.

Recalling the pathetic image of Leo’s final moments from his multiple playthroughs, Alon tilted his head, feeling a sense of confusion.

Nevertheless, he dismissed the thought with a quick shrug.

It wasn't something he needed to be deeply worried about at the moment.

A few days after the funeral, the Palatio household—which had been in a state of chaos following the death of the second son—suddenly became remarkably quiet.

The battle for the succession had reached its conclusion.

Even though the Count had a third son, Alon, no one expected the family to fall back into internal strife.

It was common knowledge that unlike Tonio, who had built an underworld empire and sold drugs to challenge his older brother, Alon possessed no power or influence whatsoever.

Even Leo, who was usually paranoid about his position as heir, ignored Alon entirely and showed no concern toward him.

Instead, Leo was busy focused on absorbing the drug distribution networks that Tonio had left behind.

As peace returned to the household, Alon spent his time reading a correspondence from Yutia.

“Hmm.”

The letters they had been sending back and forth for nearly a year were consistent and contained nothing out of the ordinary.

The writing mostly focused on the daily life of the orphanage. She described the healthy growth of some of the children and included brief updates regarding Deus, whom Alon had placed in her care.

Alon smiled contentedly as he read a specific line in Yutia’s message.

When he originally sent Deus to the orphanage, he had asked Yutia to watch over him closely, labeling him a “difficult child.” She made sure to include a short report on Deus in every letter.

He briefly contemplated paying her a visit, but he quickly dismissed the idea and finished the letter.

As he reached the final lines, Alon suddenly called out.

“Evan.”

“Yes, Young Master, how can I help you?”

“…Is it common for orphanages to receive frequent donations?”

“Well, usually… they might get some, but I doubt it’s very many.”

“I thought as much.”

The reason for Alon’s curiosity was a list of contributors written at the bottom of Yutia’s letter.

Strangely, for the past few months, another individual had started providing financial support to the same orphanage Alon was sponsoring.

The letter only identified the donor as a merchant named Malano, so the exact scale of the contribution remained unknown, but…

Though he looked puzzled for a moment, Alon soon put the matter out of his mind.

He drafted a reply to Yutia, offering casual responses to her stories, and passed the letter to Evan.

“Will you be making the delivery yourself again?”

“No, didn't I just go there a few months ago?”

“It was three months ago, if I recall correctly.”

“And… what was your report back then?”

“Regarding the orphanage, I informed you it was thriving. Deus, whom I escorted there, also seemed to be in much better spirits.”

“Is that so?”

Alon nodded, satisfied with Evan’s assessment.

He was reminded once again of how vital a proper environment is for a person's development. He then added,

“There is no need for a personal visit this time. Just have someone from the mercenary guild deliver the letter.”

“As you wish.”

Evan nodded and turned to leave, but then he paused as if remembering something important.

“Also… do you recall the matter you brought up previously?”

“Which matter?”

“The ancient book.”

“Have you located it?”

“I cannot say for certain yet, but I have found a promising lead.”

“Explain.”

Following Alon’s order, Evan began to detail the intelligence he had gathered from the information guild, piece by piece.

And finally,

“I have found it.”

The hiding place of the third Sin had been uncovered.

***

Margot, a Viscount’s estate situated near a tiny village in the eastern reaches of the Asteria Kingdom, was famous for its exquisite glass craftsmanship.

However, that reputation was merely a facade. In truth, the primary wealth of the Margot family was derived from the drug trade.

To be specific, an organization known as “Phalan” utilized Margot as their central distribution point, ensuring the Viscount’s family received a massive share of the profits.

By using Margot as their hub, Phalan had expanded its influence until it became a formidable organization with hundreds of members, commanded by over ten expert-level combatants.

Because of this strength, Rauton—the leader of Phalan and an expert-level mercenary himself—was confident that the organization’s growth was unstoppable.

…That was his belief until yesterday, at least.

Rauton’s eyes were filled with terror as he scanned his surroundings.

Strewn across the ground before him were dozens of blood-soaked corpses.

“P-please, have mercy! Let me live!!”

“I beg of you, spare me!”

“Aaaahhh!!”

Only a handful of organization members remained, and they were screaming in sheer desperation.

Rauton watched them with trembling eyes.

Under normal circumstances, the sight of his elite men would have made him feel secure, acting as a powerful shield.

Even if they were individually weaker than him, their numbers alone should have provided a sense of safety.

Yet, looking at them now, Rauton was consumed by nothing but paralyzing fear.

“Uh… Ugh…”

“P-please…”

Every surviving member of the group was holding their own sword in a reverse grip, pressing the sharp edges against their own throats.

“No! Stop! I don't want to die!”

“Aaaahhh!!”

“Please, make it stop! I’m begging you!!”

Their faces were twisted with agony and pleas for mercy.

Despite their mental resistance, their bodies moved as if possessed, forcing the blades deep into their own necks.

Schlack!

The final dozen members took their own lives simultaneously.

And then—

“!”

Rauton felt his own body begin to move against his will.

“N-no…!”

He found himself gripping his sword in a reverse fashion.

“P-please!”

No matter how much he fought to regain control, his hijacked body refused to obey, doing nothing but trembling as it moved toward the inevitable.

In his final moments,

“…”

Rauton saw it.

From the shadows of the hideout, a pair of violet eyes were staring directly at him.

The instant he locked eyes with them—

Shlunk!

Rauton drove his own sword through his throat.

Thud.

As the body fell, Deus emerged from the darkness and silently walked toward the exit.

“A job well done.”

Yutia, who had accompanied Deus, followed him out into the night.

“Is there a purpose to slaughtering these people?”

Deus asked the question as they walked, as if he had been pondering it for a while.

Compared to a year ago, his eyes now held a distinct spark of intelligence and reason.

“Are you feeling pity for them?”

“No. I am aware that these people were murdering humans to produce their drugs.”

“Then why ask?”

“I just wonder if killing them brings us any closer to killing those bastards.”

Yutia smiled at Deus’s inquiry and replied,

“Of course it does.”

Her tone was certain.

“We are simply preparing the way for his return.”

Thud.

As she spoke, a glowing pattern began to manifest beneath her feet.

The magic circle depicted a massive eye with a crescent moon nestled inside it.

“We wouldn't want him to return to a place that is in such a mess, would we?”

“…I see.”

Deus stared at the sigil on the ground and nodded, seemingly understanding her logic. He said nothing more.

“All is as he wills.”

Muttering the phrase he had recited a thousand times, the two finished the magic circle and vanished into the night.

Not a single soul was left alive within the Phalan hideout.