1. Why this bastard, of all people?
That day was unusually bright and clear.
The sunlight streaming brilliantly through the slightly open window sparkled across the room.
The chirping of birds and the breeze brushing past my body sang like a melody.
It was a perfect start to a bright, lively day, but there I was, propped up on the bed with just my upper body raised,
hands cradling my face.
"How the hell did this happen?"
I let out a sigh deep enough to cave the ground and muttered softly.
God, even to my own ears, it was a voice dripping with gloom.
"A dream... doesn't seem like it."
I said it to myself, but I knew it was a stupid denial.
What kind of dream felt this real?
I just couldn't accept the situation—didn't want to—so I was rejecting reality.
"..."
How much time passed?
After hesitating for a long while, I slowly lowered the hands covering my face.
As the obstruction vanished from my view, the dark haze filled with dazzling sunlight.
My reflection in the mirror slowly came into focus.
"Fuck... an illusion?"
The moment I saw the mirror, that's all I could say.
Dull, ash-gray hair and half-lidded eyes tinged blue like storm clouds.
With the shadowy face, it didn't look spirited—it was like dead fish eyes.
Gloomy, sinister, the kind of guy you wouldn't want nearby.
That was my honest assessment of my own appearance.
And I knew exactly who I'd possessed.
...I knew, which was why I'd tried so hard to ignore reality.
"Everything else is fine. But why! Why this bastard!"
Evan Dreadnote.
The early-game villain in a yuri game where both the protagonist and heroines were women—a typical fool obsessed with women, hitting on the heroine, only to get crushed and exit the story.
That was me now.
...Realizing it myself plunged me back into depression.
"God. Out of all those games and possession targets, why this bastard?"
There were better options. Like one of the hero's barbarian companions,
or even a charismatic, capable villain!
Why!
Of all people!
This guy!
I thrashed around like a madman,
then suddenly went limp, like laundry sagging on a drying rack.
"Sigh."
My mood still sucked, but I couldn't just sit there forever.
What was done was done.
At least I needed to sort out the situation.
Like it or not, I'd been possessed, so to survive, I had to struggle.
'Let's organize this first.'
...I'd become Evan Dreadnote, the villain in the yuri game The Glory.
Evan was the eldest son of House Dreadnote, counts of the Hestol Kingdom, but a bastard born from the family head's youthful fling.
Because of his origins, he was denied rights and duties as the eldest son and lived discriminated against.
If only he'd inherited even a shred of his father's talent.
Cruelly, he had none—not a speck of ability or aptitude.
Ignored by family and household alike his whole life, his personality was bound to twist.
Still, as blood kin, they gave him enough to maintain appearances outside, so he became a wastrel chasing women and booze until he entered the academy.
There, he bullied the heroine over class differences, got beaten by the protagonist, and left the game.
Later rumors said he was dragged to prison or vanished at the execution grounds.
...Sorting it out made it even more hopeless.
"Haaa..."
As my sighs grew endless and I sank into deep thought,
a careless knock echoed from the door.
"Young Master. Mealtime. I've left the prepared food by the door."
The voice was emotionless, ice-cold, making me flinch involuntarily.
"Ah. Okay..."
Clack, clack—
She didn't even wait for my reply; the maid's footsteps faded quickly beyond the door.
Ha. I'd expected it, but experiencing it firsthand was ridiculous.
No matter how much of a bastard wastrel he was, he was still the count's eldest son.
"No wonder Evan turned into such a scumbag."
A hollow laugh escaped me.
Still stunned, I cautiously rose from bed and opened the firmly shut door.
A long hallway stretched out, and beside the door sat a small cart with a tray of food.
"Haha..."
Stale bread, slightly cooled soup, dry jerky—that was it.
For a noble's child, it was pathetically meager; I even thought, This is all?
"This is just hilarious."
The servants wouldn't dare treat him this way without the family head's tacit approval.
The whole house was the enemy to this Evan guy.
Since possession, I'd been too busy grasping my surroundings to feel much.
It wasn't the right moment anyway. But now?
I felt it keenly, fiercely.
Couldn't pinpoint it exactly...
Not quite anger—too mild; not quite sorrow—too intense.
One thing was certain.
I wasn't the type to just take this discriminatory crap.
And having decided to survive in this world,
I needed a clichéd but simple solution to avoid more beggar-like treatment.
"I guess I have no choice but to get stronger."
But how?
The Evan I knew had zero talent—not even a speck.
No, beyond mediocre—practically an imbecile.
No aptitude for sword or magic; normal training wouldn't change a thing.
"..."
This approach was out—completely unsuitable.
Rejected, rejected.
No matter how I racked my brain, no clear solution emerged.
Gurgle.
As I furrowed my brow in contemplation,
my stomach clock rang out, as if saying eat first, think later.
"...Let's bring in the food for now. Think slowly after eating."
I couldn't stand here all day waiting for answers.
I carefully carried the tray inside.
I set the dishes on the small table and sat alone, spooning into the now-cold soup, when—
Plop, drip—
"Hm?"
Something fell behind me.
Turning to check, my eyes landed on a charred black book.
As if urging me to pick it up.
It exuded a menacing aura—not your average book.
'Wait... I've seen that creepy thing somewhere before.'
Yeah. That ominous book felt familiar.
But where... I couldn't quite recall.
Then,
Forgotten memory fragments clicked together, flashing through my mind.
"Ah!"
I sprang up with an involuntary shout.
How could I have forgotten something this crucial? It was vital I not forget.
"Right... yeah! This bastard Evan had one of the Dark Grimoires. Why did I blank on that?"
Dark Grimoire.
A tome of powerful spells that once drove an advanced ancient magic civilization to ruin in an instant.
It granted overwhelming strength to users, but killed the unworthy on sight—a forbidden item.
In The Glory, Evan was the epitome of incompetence, but a later setting book revealed
this synonym for uselessness was actually suited to own a Dark Grimoire.
'When I heard even the final black-curtain bosses used them, and this guy could too, I thought it was a joke.'
And he unknowingly already possessed one—total pandemonium.
"Whatever. That's not the point."
Yeah, what mattered was from now on.
"Whew..."
In the game, you learned skills by acquiring items.
But the protagonist and allies couldn't acquire Dark Grimoires, so this was uncharted territory for me too.
'Hope just touching it works like in the game...'
I stepped cautiously toward the grotesque, aura-spewing Dark Grimoire, food forgotten.
Shhh—
"Ugh..."
I'd expected it wouldn't be easy, but the closer I got, the thicker the aura grew, breathing harder.
Like a snake eyeing prey, it seemed to tempt me.
"Since I'm stuck as Evan, the end won't be good either way. I can't give up over this...!"
Feeling faint, I gritted my teeth and endured.
Quitting here meant doom; I stretched with all my might.
"Just a bit more... got it!"
After Herculean effort, grasping the book halted the onslaught momentarily.
Then it erupted stronger, swirling around me in a circle.
"Grrgh..."
Slowly, like a predator closing on prey, the dark, sticky aura seeped into every corner of my body.
Veins bulged like they might burst.
"Aaaargh!!"
The eternal-seeming agony crashed in but eventually faded.
Or rather, I'd endured till it passed.
Too quick to be sure...
Drained, my legs gave out; I collapsed.
"Haa..."
One book.
Just grabbing this one book left me soaked in sweat.
"Let's rest a bit."
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