THE VILLAIN'S POV Chapter 2 2: Between two worlds (2)

Previously on THE VILLAIN'S POV...
Amidst the chaos of a fierce battle, Snow narrowly escapes a deadly strike, revealing a desperate struggle for survival. Between moments of fighting and fierce writing sessions, a young man reflects on his life, finding solace in family moments and his unfinished novel. However, everything changes when he is abruptly pulled from his mundane reality, awakening to a lavish room, a mysterious maid calling him "Lord Starlight." Confusion mounts as he discovers he has assumed the identity of Frey Starlight, the villain from his own story, just moments before he fainted under the weight of this shocking revelation.

-Frey Starlight POV -

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My eyelids fluttered open. A piercing, high-pitched ringing echoed in my ears, making me feel as though I had just emerged from a decade-long slumber.

The first thing I saw was that ridiculously bright ceiling. Beneath me, I was sprawled across a bed the size of a sports stadium…

This marked the second occasion I had woken up to this exact sight. To be honest… I had no desire for a third.

It only took a few moments to grasp the reality of the situation again, and a groan of pure misery escaped my lips.

"Am I really reincarnated inside the world of my own novel?"

It couldn't be… This whole "isekai" trope is just nonsense from trashy stories… I must be trapped in a dream.

I took another look around the massive chamber where I had been resting, and the overwhelming level of detail forced a bitter laugh from my throat.

A dream? Could a dream possibly feel this tangible? What kind of dream subjects you to a level of agony more intense than anything you’ve ever experienced in just a few heartbeats?

I had truly stepped into the pages of my own book.

Gritting my teeth, I pressed my fingernails deep into my palms. My brain felt like it was hitting a boiling point, and I couldn't help but shriek at the top of my lungs:

"Why? Why? WHY? WHY THE HELL IS THIS HAPPENING?!"

"Of everyone, why ME?! I had a life… I had a family… I had—"

My voice shook violently as images of my father, my kin, and my previous existence flashed before me…

A single tear tracked down my face while I hissed curses under my breath.

Then, that hollow, chilling voice resonated in my ear once more:

["Synchronization complete."]

["Host memories successfully transferred."]

Suddenly, a massive wave of alien memories crashed into my mind. Despite the mental assault, my focus remained locked onto that sinister voice.

I lunged out of the enormous bed, fueled by pure fury, and began screaming mindlessly:

"To hell with you and your synchronization, you piece of trash!"

"Who gave your pathetic soul permission to bring me here?! Who ever asked for a 'new life'?"

"GIVE ME AN ANSWER, BASTARD! Who begged you for a second chance?!"

"Send me back… Return me to my real life!"

"I don't care about 'chances'… Everything I needed was already mine! I don't want this life—PLEASE… PLEASE JUST TAKE ME BACK!"

After swinging my fists uselessly at the empty air, I sank to my knees. My rage evaporated, leaving only a hollow, crushing sense of hopelessness.

"Please… I’m begging… I have a family… I have—"

I broke down into violent sobs as the weight of my reality finally settled in. The memories of the original host continued to pour in without mercy, drowning out my pathetic cries.

Ultimately, the only thing I could do was let out one final scream with every bit of breath left in my lungs.

Naturally, my mental collapse didn't happen in silence. Because of my earlier outbursts, it wasn't long before the room was swarmed with people—though I paid them no mind.

A single thought dominated my mind: "I have lost everything."

...

...

...

The days blurred together. Within the sprawling corridors of the Starlight family estate, the maids were busy whispering about the pathetic state of their young master...

"The atmosphere in the mansion is terrifyingly quiet," one maid noted, exhaling a plume of smoke as she leaned against a window with her cigar.

"It's true... It looks like Young Master Frey has finally snapped..."

Standing near her were two girls wearing the kind of elaborate maid uniforms you only see in films.

One of them whispered with a vacant expression, "You think he’s gone crazy? That Frey? Hah... No way..."

The group turned their gaze toward the stern, senior maid—their undisputed *senpai*.

"What makes you say that? Didn't you hear him howling and thrashing about like a madman?"

The elder maid let out a heavy sigh before replying, her tone laced with biting sarcasm:

"That little monster could never lose his mind. I've been in his service since his childhood. If *I* haven't gone insane yet, how could *he*?" The color drained from the faces of the others.

"Miss Frederica! How can you speak like that? Aren't you worried he might overhear? I don't want to end up on his bad side... not after what I've seen him do..." The youngest maid shivered, remembering the grim fate of those who crossed Frey.

To become a target for Frey was a destiny more horrific than death itself. You would be turned into his personal toy until you pleaded for the end—a fact everyone in the estate understood perfectly.

"Tsk, tsk. This is exactly why you rookies never last in this place," Frederica said, shaking her head at their lack of experience.

"Regardless... the Young Master is likely... suffering from depression."

"Depression?"

Noticing their bewilderment, Frederica clarified, "Indeed. For the first time, that little devil has found himself loving someone other than his own reflection."

The maids let out a collective gasp: "The daughter of the Moonlight family's head...?"

Frederica gave a slow nod. "He is possessed by her. But it appears the feeling isn't mutual. She isn't a girl he can simply seize with brute force—the Moonlight family is a power that rivals even the Starlights."

Taking another long drag of her cigar, she added darkly:

"Don't get too comfortable with this silence, girls. His temper will flare up again soon... and we will be the ones to suffer for it. Keep your wits about you~"

With those parting words, Frederica walked away, leaving the others paralyzed with fear.

---

...

...

...

- Frey Starlight POV -

Lying on this miserable bed, I opened my eyes once more. "The seventh time."

Seven times I have woken up to stare at this cursed ceiling.

Any lingering hope that this was just a bad dream had withered away long ago. Now, I was nothing but a hollow shell draped across an expensive mattress.

A full week had passed since I was dragged into my own creation—imprisoned in the body of the antagonist, Frey Starlight.

He was the most loathed figure in my narrative... A villain hated by everyone.

If the hero didn't finish him off, one of the heroines surely would.

If not them, some other major character would do the deed.

Even the fellow villains held Frey in contempt.

To put it bluntly—he was a dead man walking. That was his role.

Seriously? After absorbing his memories, I realized he was even more disgusting than I thought. He had committed atrocities I hadn't even written down...

All of this, and he's only sixteen years old. What a bright future.

I know the death flags are stacking up against me. But who gives a damn? Me? Haha... To hell with it all.

I have zero desire to exist in this world.

At one point, I tried to turn a blade on myself—to wake up from this nightmare.

I truly wanted to die.

But the reality was this—my arm locked up the very second the edge touched the skin of my throat.

Who was I fooling? Suicide? Ending it all?

I lacked the spine for it. I didn't possess even a shred of that kind of resolve.

It was in that moment I realized just how pathetic I really was.

Consequently, I spent the last week doing… absolutely nothing.

Eat. Use the bathroom. Wash. Sleep. Repeat. Seven days of this soul-crushing cycle.

Plenty of people came to see me, but I gave them no response. They all left in a state of confusion.

Frey is destined to die sooner or later. Since I can't bring myself to end it, I'll just wait for someone else to kill me.

The past few days have been quiet. Frey—the young lord of the prestigious Starlight family, one of the three dominant noble houses of humanity—lived in disgusting wealth.

I found myself particularly fond of the bath. The original owner of this body was a fanatic about hygiene, and I had seemingly inherited his OCD, scrubbing myself twice every day.

I felt a deep resentment toward these physical habits, as if Frey’s personality was slowly overwriting my own. But I couldn't bring myself to care.

I don't want to be in this world.

I just want to fade away quietly in some dark corner.

And so, I rolled over in bed. The sun was already up, but I chose to keep sleeping. Until the demons started their major movements, not much would change in this world—especially for a clan like the Starlights. I had all the time in the world to kill.

After all, the core plot wouldn't kick off for another year, when the protagonist and the rest of the cast enroll in the Temple.

The territory of mankind had been reduced to a single massive empire, forged in the fires of constant demon invasions that nearly wiped out humanity.

However, humans were quick to adapt. They tapped into unique powers and, through oceans of blood and suffering, managed to push the demons back—to an extent.

To strengthen their defenses, humanity combined all its technology and knowledge to create a sanctuary where the next generation of leaders could be trained: the Temple.

Regardless, the events at the Temple were still a year away.

I let out a sigh, shifting under the covers. "Just hurry up and end my life already..."

I fell back into a slumber, ignoring the world around me.

...

...

...

"I couldn't just stay in bed forever, I suppose."

I was perched at my desk, aimlessly doodling on scraps of paper… occasionally glancing at videos on my smartwatch, a piece of tech I was still struggling to understand.

After humanity was nearly destroyed, much of their historical progress and culture had been lost to time.

But now, through immense struggle, they had managed—partially—to recover and rebuild using modern tech fueled by the very power humans had discovered: Aura.

Yet, their success was incomplete. This was obvious from the bizarre architecture—structures that looked like a chaotic blend of high-tech modernism and the Dark Ages.

I suppose I, as the author of this mess, am the one to blame for such inconsistencies.

Leaning back into the cushions of my chair, I sighed for what felt like the millionth time.

Most people would be overjoyed at a second chance at life… but I didn't want it. I didn't need it.

Every minute that passed, every single second, I was haunted by the memory of my family—of everything I had left behind. That realization alone had pushed me into a deep state of depression.

Life is simply unfair.

~Knock, knock~

The rapping at the door broke my train of thought, but I didn't even turn to see who it was.

A maid stepped into the room and performed a perfect bow.

"Forgive the intrusion, my lord… A delivery arrived for you a short while ago. Following your previous orders, we confirmed it was entirely safe before bringing it up, without breaking the seal."

She set a medium-sized parcel down by the entrance, bowed once more, and exited.

"I wish you a pleasant day, my lord."

The door clicked shut, leaving me in solitude once again.

I hadn't spoken more than a few words to the staff since arriving, and they seemed to have adjusted to my silence.

Looking at the box on the floor triggered a faint memory—Frey had given strict orders that the maids were never to peek inside his deliveries.

That was because he frequently purchased dangerous items. And with the superhuman talents present in this world, it was easy for them to verify a package's safety without actually opening it.

Driven by pure boredom, I walked over to the box and tore it open.

"Let's see what kind of trash you've been buying, old Frey…"

The moment my eyes landed on the contents, I froze—my pupils Dilating in shock.

How could I not be stunned?

My lips began to tremble as I reached into the box and lifted out a familiar black device, one that had been my constant companion for years.

There was no doubt about it… This was my personal laptop.

I placed it onto the desk with trembling hands, staring at it like a lunatic.

Tracing the scratches on its casing, I remembered exactly how they got there—from the time I dropped it years ago.

This was the exact laptop I had used for so long…

The very machine on which I had typed out the chapters of this novel.

What the hell was happening? Was this some kind of sick joke?

With shaking hands and a heart pounding against my ribs, I flipped the laptop open—staring straight into an unknown future.

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