The sun was already streaming through the tall windows when Riel Arkwood(Aki) dragged himself out of bed. His head throbbed faintly, the same way it always did when he woke up in this cursed villain's body.
"Another day of not dying," he muttered, shoving his messy silver hair away from his face.
Yesterday, he'd confirmed it. This wasn't a dream. This wasn't some elaborate prank. He'd truly woken up inside the world of Blade Destiny, a game he'd once spent hours mocking for its endless death flags. And worse — he wasn't the Hero, wasn't even a side character. He was Riel Arkwood, the scummy noble villain destined to die before the game's halfway mark.
His only weapon? A worn leather-bound diary, apparently written by some other version of himself who had lived and died through these same events already.
Great. Fantastic. Truly, this was the opposite of an Isekai blessing.
A knock echoed at his door. Knock, knock.
"Young Master Riel," came the butler's voice, deep and far too smooth. "It is time for breakfast. Shall I prepare your usual… delicacies?"
Aki froze. He knew that voice. In the game, this creepy butler was named Merrick. Loyal? Yes. But also completely insane, and—according to the diary—fond of testing poisons on his young master "to build resistance."
"…Right," Aki whispered. "If I eat breakfast, I might die. If I refuse breakfast, he'll get suspicious. What do I do?"
He glanced at the diary, which sat open on his nightstand. A line glowed faintly.
"Survive breakfast. Do NOT drink the tea."
"Wonderful," Aki muttered. "He really should've underlined that in blood or something."
Aki opened the door, putting on his best "arrogant villain" face. He angled his chin up, narrowing his eyes as if everyone around him was an insect.
"Merrick," he said coolly. "I expect the dining hall prepared. And - hmp - don't waste my time with your dull chatter."
The butler bowed low. His silver hair gleamed, his gloved hands perfectly poised. "Of course, Young Master. I would never dare waste a single breath of yours."
Something about the way Merrick smiled made Aki's stomach twist.
The dining hall of House Arkwood looked like the sort of place where ghost stories were born. Shadows clung to the corners. Velvet curtains hung too heavily. Even the chandelier seemed to drip menace.
On the long table, however, was an arrangement fit for a king: silver platters stacked with steaming meat pies, golden loaves of bread, bowls of strange fruit, and—most suspicious of all—a porcelain teacup filled with something dark and fragrant.
Aki sat down, forcing his hands not to tremble. "This… looks adequate."
"I prepared your favorites," Merrick said, smiling thinly. "The venison pie, the spiced tea, and of course… the black pudding."
Black pudding. The diary had mentioned it once: "Avoid the pudding. It isn't made from pigs."
Aki shuddered.
"Eat," Merrick urged softly, almost coaxing. "Your body must remain strong, Young Master. After all, you have a letter today."
Aki froze with a fork halfway to his mouth. "A… letter?"
"Yes. Delivered from the palace at dawn. The Princess requests your presence this afternoon."
The fork clattered onto the plate.
The Princess. In the game, she was famous for her beauty, her wit… and for personally ordering the villain Riel Arkwood's execution after the first arc.
Aki's palms began to sweat. No, no, no. That's a death flag if I've ever heard one!
"Compose yourself," he muttered under his breath. "You're supposed to be a cold-hearted villain. Cold. Heartless. Villain."
Out loud, he sniffed disdainfully. "Hmph. The Princess can wait. I won't dance to her whims like some desperate fool."
Merrick's eyes gleamed like polished knives. "Ah… as expected of Young Master Riel. Bold. Defiant. The Princess will find your fire… intoxicating."
That smile again. Aki was ninety percent sure Merrick wanted him dead.
He poked at the pie. It smelled normal. Too normal. He glanced at the diary again. Another faint glowing note appeared across the page.
"Eat the bread. Only the bread."
Aki nodded firmly and reached for the loaf. He tore off a piece and shoved it in his mouth. Chewy. Dry. But at least it didn't kill him immediately.
Merrick tilted his head. "The tea, Young Master?"
Aki froze.
This was it. The trap.
"No," he said flatly. "I've decided tea is… beneath me."
Silence. Merrick's eyes widened slightly before curving into a smile again. "Of course. I shall have the maids dispose of it. You grow wiser every day, Young Master."
Dispose of it? No, no, Aki was pretty sure the maids would feed it to the dogs out back. Poor dogs.
When the tense breakfast finally ended, Aki slumped in his chair, exhausted from the act.
One thing was clear: survival was going to be a full-time job. And now, with the Princess's invitation, he was walking straight into another trap.
He looked at the diary again. A new line of faint words appeared across the page, as though written by an unseen hand.
"The Princess's tea party. The cursed chair. Don't sit."
"…Oh, fantastic," Aki groaned, dragging his hand down his face. "Even the furniture wants me dead."
Merrick bowed low, presenting the sealed letter once more. "Young Master. Shall I arrange your carriage?"
Aki forced a smirk. "Do it. After all ~" He stood, flicking his cloak dramatically. "~If the Princess thinks she can kill me with chairs, she'll be sorely disappointed."
The butler's smile deepened. "As you say."