He woke up as the game’s doomed villain. Now every death flag wants him dead, every heroine route is changing, and the world itself is trying to correct his existence. But Kael Ashborne refuses to die for the hero’s story.

Kael Ashborne knew the story.

He knew the hero would rise, the heroines would be saved, the academy would become a battlefield of nobles, saints, monsters, assassins, and ancient powers—and the villain would die as a stepping stone for someone else’s happy ending.

Unfortunately, when Kael opened his eyes, he was no longer a reader.

He had awakened inside the body of Cedric Valdrake—the hated young master, the broken heir, the arrogant noble villain whose fate was already written in blood.

His core is shattered. His reputation is poisonous. His family treats him like property. The heroines are destined to hate him. The hero is destined to defeat him. And the world itself seems determined to force every event back onto the original route.

But Kael refuses to become a corpse for the plot.

Armed with knowledge of the game’s future, a damaged body, a dangerous void power, and a system that records every death flag closing around his throat, Kael begins rewriting the story one impossible choice at a time.

He saves people the original plot ignored.

He protects witnesses the world tries to erase.

He breaks heroine routes without claiming them.

He turns servants, rivals, saints, assassins, and broken nobles into variables the script can no longer control.

But the more Kael changes, the more the world pushes back.

Correction events awaken. Forgotten doors open. Dead names return. And something beneath the academy begins to notice that the villain is no longer following his role.

The hero was meant to save the world.

The villain was meant to fall.

Kael intends to prove both of those truths wrong.

Because in this story, even the villain wants to live.

YOUNG MASTER'S POV: I AM THE GAME'S VILLAIN


Chapter 169: Broken Hands, Broken Sword


Liora Ashveil did not believe in gentle rehabilitation.


She believed in truth, sweat, and wooden swords moving faster than my dignity.


The word had become a curse across my week.


Veylan said it like a diagnosis. Seraphina said it like medical necessity. Liora said it like she was personally offended by my skeleton.


We stood in a private side yard behind the old fencing hall. Private meant Veylan had cleared it, Seraphina had warded the entrance, Nyx had checked the roof, Ren had logged the session, Niko had inspected the floorboards, and Valeria had bribed a clerk to record the yard as unavailable due to "decorative humidity."


Chapter 169 - Broken Hands, Broken Sword