I Am The Game's Villain Chapter 1 My Soon-To-Be Girlfriend Is Dead [1]

How much time has slipped by since that fateful day?

My mind was a hazy mess, making it a struggle to keep track. I really should have memorized the exact date she died—the girl who was supposed to become my girlfriend—but the memory eluded me. Any woman would likely loathe me if they knew I had forgotten something so monumental.

I exhaled slowly, watching as a plume of white smoke formed in the biting cold. I was currently wandering aimlessly through the picturesque streets of Paris. I didn't actually live here; I had traveled to the city with her and a group of our friends. In fact, the whole trip had been my idea.

Most people would question visiting Paris in the dead of winter, but I had a specific vision. I planned to confess my feelings to her in the city of love, right at the top of the Eiffel Tower. It might sound cliché, cringy, or overly sentimental, but that was how I wanted to show her the depth of my love.

Ah.

I believe it has been roughly a week since she passed away.

By now, I should have returned to my home in London, yet I remained lingering in this city. Having no family meant there was no one to worry about my whereabouts. That girl was the only family I truly had left, and now she was gone…

What a pathetic existence I led.

A car accident had claimed the lives of my parents and younger sister when I was only seventeen. I’ve survived on their life insurance ever since. I was alive, yes, but my life felt like a living hell. There was no one left for me to care about.

I used to be a cheerful person, but the tragedy turned me into a complete introvert—a change I actually embraced. There was a certain peace in solitude. I finally understood the lonely perspective of the introverts I had met in the past.

Eventually, I enrolled in a specialized school to study IT. I’m 22 now, having spent nearly four years there. As an introvert, I probably should have remained isolated during that time, but she wouldn't allow it. I am speaking, of course, about the woman I loved more than anyone else.

We first spoke because of a mandatory two-person project. By pure chance, I was paired with her—likely the most stunning girl I had ever laid eyes on. I was shy at first, but she managed to break through my shell. Over four years, we talked, I got to know her, and I fell deeply in love.

But that’s all over now.

I stepped into a nearby bakery and joined the queue. When it was my turn, I handed the baker two euros, the local currency.

"Two baguettes, please."

"Of course, sir."

She offered a professional smile and quickly provided the bread.

"Thanks a lot."

"My pleasure."

She replied in English, her French accent adding a cute charm to her voice. Looking at her now, she was quite beautiful. Should I try to strike up a conversation?

No.

I shook my head, dismissing the ridiculous thought.

I had an appointment with my friend first.

…And I had forgotten for a moment that I was an introvert.

Besides, I was just an average-looking guy; I highly doubted a French beauty would have any interest in me. It remained a mystery to me how she had fallen for me. But I knew she did—her brother had confirmed her feelings before she died.

'She’s into you too, bro!'

When her brother, my close friend, told me that, I felt like I was on top of the world. I can still picture myself gazing at the sky with a distorted, joyful grin. I began to fantasize about our future—dates, our first night together, getting married, and raising children.

Lost in those memories, I bit into the baguette.

"Delicious."

As expected, the bread in France was flawless.

Passersby on the sidewalk offered small smiles as they watched me hungrily devour the bread in the freezing weather. The baguette had already lost its warmth, but my hunger was overwhelming.

I checked my watch and let out a sigh.

[8:47]

"Time to go."

I turned around and walked toward a specific location. My friend had asked me to meet him there yesterday, and I had agreed.

After a ten-minute walk, I spotted my friend’s back. He was sitting on a bench, staring blankly into space. His usually upright posture was replaced by a heavy slouch. In this state, I could have easily taken him down.

Suppressing the urge to jokingly kick him, I took a seat on the bench beside him.

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Nyr."

He finally broke the silence.

"Yeah."

"How have you been?"

His voice was raspy. I noticed the tear tracks on his face but decided not to mention them.

"I'm good. You?"

"Good, huh? Ahaha."

"Emric?"

I was startled by his sudden, hollow laughter.

"You're good? It’s only been a week since she died! Ephera, my sister, your girlfriend!"

His voice rose sharply at the end.

"Not my girlfriend," I answered calmly. Since I never got the chance to confess, the title didn't technically apply.

"I never actually confessed, so she wasn't my girlfriend."

I punctuated my statement with another bite of my baguette.

"Oh. You want some?"

I offered a baguette to Emric, but he just stared at me, his lips trembling. I could see he was on the verge of swinging at me, so I pulled my hand back.

"What’s happened to you, Nyr? Did you… did you even care about her? I don’t even know who you are anymore."

Emric finally voiced the thoughts he'd been holding back since I arrived.

I looked at him.

That face…

He looked so much like his sister. He looked like Ephera. A surge of white-hot anger began to boil inside me, so I looked away.

"What do you think?"

My deflective answer clearly infuriated Emric, and he stood up abruptly.

"Enough."

I was surprised to see him simply walking away. Despite my cold behavior, he hadn't tried to hit me.

I set the bag of bread on the bench and stood up.

"Emric."

I followed after him.

"Get lost, Nyr."

He didn't even bother to look back.

Ignoring his dismissal, I hurried to catch up.

"You know, Ephera… she wasn't half bad."

"!"

Emric froze in his tracks. I could see his fists clenching tight.

"I was lucky to have her. But still…"

A cruel smirk began to form on my lips.

"It's a real pity I didn't get to spend at least one night with he—"

—Bam!

A powerful punch slammed into my cheek, sending me flying. My head cracked against the bench before I slumped to the pavement.

"Ah!"

Warm blood began to trickle from my head, but I ignored it, looking up at Emric with a pained, mocking smile.

"You're disgusting, Nyr. I can't believe I was friends with a piece of trash like you, or that I let my sister near you…"

Emric shook his head in absolute disgust and walked off.

"Ah…"

I sighed and pushed myself up. After dusting off my clothes, I retrieved the bag of baguettes.

"Hm?"

I realized several onlookers were staring, likely wondering what the drama was about.

My eyes met those of a small girl clinging to her mother’s leg, watching me intently.

"Do you want some?" I asked, holding out the bag.

"Non, merci."

The mother gave a polite, strained smile, said something in French, and quickly led her daughter away.

"It was just a joke. They're for me anyway."

Clutching the bag to my chest, I started walking home to tend to my wound.