[Alright! There Will be no MORE NTR]
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Nanael drifted in the void. A pitch-black emptiness stretched endlessly in all directions. He knew… he was dead.
The freezing touch of the asphalt, the crushing impact of the car that stole his final breath… It all still felt disturbingly real, a phantom pain stabbing him over and over again.
Here, there was nothing. Just darkness. He tried to scream, but no sound came.
So this is the afterlife? I didn't think it would just be… nothing. What now? Am I getting tossed into hell or something?
He tried to cry out again, but it was pointless. No voice or sound. He looked down, more emptiness.
He have no body, no vocal cords. Just the faint sound of his own heartbeat echoing weakly in this void… and his thoughts, which somehow rang louder than anything.
Time... didn't exist here.
How long had he been trapped in this darkness? A minute? An hour? A century? He couldn't tell.
Maybe this is my punishment.
Punishment for taking a life.
But… why should he be punished? That bastard deserved it. That blond-haired man, it was all his fault.
The hatred still burned, even here in the nothingness. Nanael was tortured, drifting aimlessly. Every second felt like eternal damnation.
Until finally, after what could've been eons, a light appeared.
A blinding, brilliant light burst into view, tearing the darkness apart.
He wanted to shut his eyes, to recoil from the overwhelming brightness, but… he had no eyelids now.
All he could do… was surrender. Let the light consume him.
---
"Arghh…!"
Nanael jolted awake.
"ha… ha… ha…"
His breath came in short, ragged gasps. His eyes snapped open, there's no more endless blackness in his vision—only the sight of a worn, unfamiliar ceiling.
He could feel the soft texture of a mattress beneath him. There was a damp, musty smell in the air… but beneath it, a faint trace of cedar lingered.
"Urgh…"
Pain exploded in his head, a throbbing migraine like his skull had been split in two. His body ached like he'd been trampled by a car.
Make sense, he just got hit by a car before dying.
He tried to sit up, but his limbs felt like jelly. Sweat clung to his skin as he glanced around the room.
It wasn't luxurious, but traces of nobility still lingered.
Faded wall ornaments, dark heavy curtains dulled by time, and old carved wooden furniture that had clearly seen better days.
It looked like the bedroom of a noble—though not a grand one. Maybe a fallen noble family? or a minor one barely hanging on to their name.
"Where… where am I?" he croaked. His voice sounded foreign—hoarse and dry, sounds strange to his own ears.
He clutched his throbbing temple, trying to dull the piercing pain behind his eyes.
"Ugh!"
And then, like a dam bursting, memories came flooding in.
"GAAAHHHHH!"
But they weren't his memories. Not from modern-day Nanael. These belonged to someone else entirely.
He saw… himself? No, the body he now inhabited.
A glimpse of childhood, fuzzy and distant. A young boy with snow-white hair and crimson eyes sat alone in the corner of a cold, empty room.
That child grew up in isolation, ignored and scorned by everyone around him.
Nanael watched the boy's pain unfold—living in the shadow of his charismatic, beloved older brothers.
He was the son of a Duke. Yes… a Duke. But more accurately—
The Duke's illegitimate child.
The memories kept pouring in.
The whispered insults of other nobles. The condescending stares from the servants. Even his meals were leftovers—stale bread and bland soup.
His bedroom had been shoved into the farthest, most decrepit part of the estate. Out of sight from everyone.
That child… now had a name. Benedict Veritas.
He lived like a ghost. Only breathing, eating, sleeping—but never really living his life. There is no warmth or love for him.
Nanael found himself stunned, and strangely sympathetic.
How the hell did Benedict even survive all that?
His heart pounded as he watched the boy's torment unfold. It was too real.
These memories… that name…
His heart skipped a beat.
Wait… isn't Benedict Veritas… the villain…?
From that novel.
The one Nanael had just finished reading back at the office, before he died.
A story with a happy ending… but a villain he absolutely despised.
Yes, he remembered clearly now. Benedict Veritas—an arrogant, manipulative scumbag. A lowlife who only got his powers halfway through the story.
The moment he awakened that cursed SSS-ranked skill: Hypnosis.
With it, he could control others with terrifying ease.
He was the one who took the virginity of the Heroine Nanael loved most in the story—a sweet, innocent girl who deserved a happy ending.
That was why Nanael hated the protagonist. The guy was too slow. Too useless to save her in time.
And now…
He was Benedict.
Somehow, his modern memories… had fused with Benedict's.
He had taken over the body of a villain.
A villain… with the power of Hypnosis.