Fourth revision completed 2023 - 12 - 24.
.......................................................
What is a hero? It is a general term for those who apprehend villains.
And those who apprehend villains—means those who do not kill them.
Perhaps it was because those in power had grown complacent in peace, or perhaps it was the developers’ attempt to draw a clear line between good and evil, or perhaps, since it was not a 19+ game, they had removed more sensational subject matter—but heroes could not kill.
Of course, only after time had passed did he come to learn that there had been incidents where heroes used their abilities to harm citizens under the lie of calling them villains, and that it was a bizarre law born from the overlap of various incidents and the circumstances of those on high. But at this point, he had had no way of knowing that.
In any case, the law in this world was far too lenient even toward villains.
Just like the law in the world he had originally come from, in a society that guaranteed criminals rights in the name of human rights, the reality for heroes was that even injuring someone earned society’s reproach—but if he were a villain?
It was possible. No matter how powerless he was for becoming a hero, it was something he could do.
His ability, astonishingly enough, was specialized for killing people. Even if he did not go so far as to kill, it was more than enough to inflict a wound or two.
In a head-on clash of power against power between heroes and villains, his lack of talent would lead directly to defeat. But if he were a villain, it was an ability more than sufficient for assassination.
If he could cut someone apart merely by touching a vital point—an artery, for instance—then there was no better ability for inflicting a fatal wound.
Assassinating someone from the Brigade of Evil, the largest villain alliance to which the villain Serpent—who was currently threatening society and the Academy—belonged, might be impossible. But there would be plenty of villains to come, even if they were not necessarily part of the Brigade of Evil.
Even outside the game’s story, villains he did not know of were overflowing in this world, and since all of them would take part in the duel that would unfold in the final chapter, the situation was even bleaker.
What if he assassinated them? If he did, would there not be something even his weak self could do?
He kept turning it over in his head.
Once a single possibility came to mind, dozens more brushed through his thoughts, and his thinking began to accelerate without end.
Some of those thoughts had a screw loose somewhere, thoughts one should never have as a human being—but he was in no situation to care about that sort of thing now.
Even someone like him might be able to help. He might be able to help them reach a happy ending. With those thoughts in mind, he simply continued to fantasize without limit.
Did he have enough time? He did.
It was a game where one had to clear a full sixteen chapters to see the ending. And yet, the second chapter had not even begun yet, and the game continued even after graduating from the Academy. There was still more than enough time for him to act.
At least during the first year, the chapters did not progress all that much, so if he moved starting now, he should be able to take down one or two with ease.
If that happened, the hero side would be able to face the final boss in the decisive battle much more comfortably.
And the people he had spent a short time with as friends, the people of this world, and—his childhood friend, the one who had helped him the most both before and after his possession, the person most precious to him—he might be able to help them.
His thoughts continued, and time flowed on until an hour had passed.
“...Haha.”
However.
“There’s no way that would be possible.”
With those words to himself, he shook his head.
“...When will I wake up, I wonder.”
There was no way he could do such a thing while betraying the expectations of those who trusted him as a friend and believed in him as a disciple.
Even a villain who killed villains was still a villain in the end.
Even those who, in the story, had turned from villains to the heroes’ side only had their sentences reduced at the ending; in the end, they still went to prison. For him, who was living a new life, such a life was no different from hell.
And to him, prison was a place he absolutely did not want to enter.
Because if he betrayed their expectations, lived as a villain, and was caught—if the people precious to him looked at him with eyes of condemnation—he thought he would collapse at that very moment.
Thinking about it now, that had ultimately been selfishness. He had wanted to live as a hero, at the side of those precious to him.
And so he folded away the dream called possibility—but even after he had already given up on that dream, a possibility that had once occurred to him was not so easily forgotten.
Just as someone in despair blindly believes in salvation when it descends upon them, the salvation that had come to him in the name of possibility was more than enough to slowly eat away at his heart.
And as the second chapter progressed, that thought began to root itself even deeper in his heart.
It was only natural, because after that incident ended, he was punished for cutting a villain’s wrist—accurately slicing the part where the artery was—and for deliberately inflicting serious injury on a villain.
“—How does that make any sense?! Hyeonu almost lost his life too! A teacher died! Hey! You fucking bastard!”
“Calm down. If you keep this up and get expelled—”
“If I get expelled, I’ll just become a villain or something! You heard what that bastard said!”
“...Even so, calm down.”
His childhood friend, the protagonist’s group, and the teachers protested fiercely, but they had no power.
It was the method decided by the higher-ups, so what could be done?
No matter how fucked-up a law may be, isn’t rigidly upholding that law exactly what those in high places do? Even if they were the protagonist and the main characters, this was ultimately not a game. To be precise, he should say that at the time, he had thought it was not a game.
Of course, in consideration of the fact that he was a minor and the circumstances involved, extenuating circumstances were acknowledged under the name of self-defense. But that did not mean the perception that he was a criminal disappeared.
He was placed under suspension, and during that time, the gap between him and the other students widened.
For him, who had already been a failing student, it was no different from a death sentence, and his childhood friend, who had always worn an expressionless face, grew furious as fire and monopolized everyone’s attention.
And his childhood friend, as a model for the budding heroes—was receiving the respect of the other students whom she had protected.
For him personally, he thought it was actually better since it gave him more time to train, but the problem was the label that had attached itself to him afterward like a tag: a student who had done something that violated the law.
And there was the jealousy he would receive from the fans of his childhood friend, who took that student’s side, as well as the perception of students from other departments who had heard the news.
It was probably from that day onward that the perception of the students, except for the protagonist’s group, began to change.
“He’s the one who—”
“Shh. He’ll hear you.”
“They say he cut off his wrist.”
“My god. Trying to kill someone with a superpower? Then how is he any different from a villain?”
Wasn’t it truly ridiculous?
That he was being looked at no differently from a villain because he had injured the villain who had killed their teacher and hurt their friends.
The rumors continued without end. When his friends heard those rumors and the whispers behind his back, they grew angry, and the teachers refuted the students’ words and shouted them down—but that did not mean their gazes changed.
A perpetual failure was already hanging around with the ever-popular protagonist’s group. And what he had done was something no different from what a villain would do.
Envy and jealousy, contempt and mockery. All of it combined and changed into voices condemning him.
“Hyeonu, don’t mind them. You don’t need to listen to what they say.”
“Yeah. We’re always on your side, you know? Those bastards, seriously—there are things you can and can’t say to the person who saved your asses.”
And he, the target of that condemnation, had the comfort of his friends. Receiving that comfort, he could only smile and answer.
“I’m really fine, so don’t worry about it. Exams are coming up soon, aren’t they? Just make sure you’re prepared!”
He did not show it outwardly. Instead, he smiled and waved it off.
Because he already knew why they were reacting that way.
Their reactions were what one might call bandwagoning, created by people being incited through the ability of the chapter boss who appeared in the second chapter.
The envy and jealousy that should originally have been directed at the protagonist had merely been swept up in the result of this incident and come toward him instead. That was all there was to it.
In any case, it was only because a pawn who had infiltrated the Academy was using his ability to incite them severely. Once the second chapter ended, they would come back to apologize and return to normal Academy life.
So if he just endured a little and cleared the second chapter, perhaps things would be all right from then on.
“...Yeah, I’m really fine.”
He was sure that was what he had thought at first.
But perhaps simply watching the cold gazes and malicious actions, which had been expressed in the game with only a few lines of text, cross the line was different from experiencing them directly.
“This is going too far!”
“They were calling him a villain and everything, but in the end, they’re doing the same thing! What if he’d gotten hurt?! And why are they only getting a scolding instead of disciplinary action?!”
From malicious gazes, they became people who spoke to him directly and revealed their hostility.
From people who merely revealed hostility, they became people whose actions turned malicious.
When stones flew at him as he walked down the road, and when those who were not punished even for that behavior became convinced that they were in the right and began running even wilder.
And finally, when a flowerpot suddenly fell from the rooftop and nearly split his head open, and he barely escaped because a friend shoved him out of the way.
He felt as if some corner of his heart had twisted.
Why did he have to remain here while being treated like this? The reason he struggled was for their lives as well, so why did they condemn him? What on earth were the heroes doing, to the point that they could not even feel something was strange—let alone punish people who were so obviously doing something abnormal?
He was staying to protect the people precious to him. It was not as if he had to become a hero to protect people like that.
The possibility that had once occurred to him.
The thought of what would happen if he became a villain began to writhe continuously from that moment on.
He could not end this because he could not pass on to others the information about the boss of the second chapter, the pawn who had infiltrated the Academy.
Overturning this situation alone was impossible—no, even borrowing the strength of others, he could not overturn it.
And so, exhausted by the ceaseless condemnation he could not stop, and feeling anger toward the students who, both to his face and behind his back, went beyond bullying him and did things no different from villains, he began to twist little by little.
And amid all of that, the thought that brushed through his mind was more than enough to change his entire life.
“I suppose that can happen. After all—”
“...After all?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
Because this world was flowing according to the game’s story, because they were nothing but extras moving according to the game’s story, they would not change.
In the end, they—and we—were nothing more than NPCs inside a game, scraps of data.
“You’re too nice for your own good! Aren’t you angry?!”
“Haha...”
Because he could not, ironically, say such words to the childhood friend he cherished, he swallowed the rest of his sentence and smiled.
If he followed that line of thought, then she, too, would ultimately be nothing precious—only a scrap of data.
And so he stubbornly endured, shoving that thought into a corner of his heart.
Like that, time passed.
He still did not have a prosthetic arm, but even so, thanks to the friends who helped him, he had no inconveniences in living.
For him to smile as he received their help, that alone was enough.
He cherished this time he spent with those dear to him, and clung forcibly to the expectation that someday, his circumstances would improve.
All he had to do was avoid making mistakes. All he had to do was not give them any more excuses to find fault with him, and clear the chapters together with the other students.
If that happened—he would be able to change this situation. In the end, he would overcome hardship and remain by the side of those precious to him as a hero.
And so he continued training, attending classes, and desperately ignoring the other students as he endured.
And so time passed once more, and when the second chapter finally began, he at last smiled from the heart and rejoiced—
“—Aaaaagh!”
Perhaps it was because he had let his guard down, thinking it was finally over. Or perhaps because his emotions had gotten the better of him. Or perhaps because God bore him malice, and the timing was simply poor.
And so, his future came to an end.
It was a mistake. No, looking back now, perhaps he had only wanted to think of it as a mistake.
A villain swinging a sword, and a student pinned beneath him. He threw himself forward, shoving the villain away while activating his ability—and of all times, his ability suddenly awakened.
And so, along with the villain’s leg, the arm of the student being trampled beneath that leg was blown away as well.
No, looking back now—perhaps that had been intentional.
After all, the student pinned beneath the villain was one who had taken the lead in tormenting him maliciously. By sheer coincidence, of course.
It was惨惨. Blood sprayed, forming a puddle. The villain collapsed where he stood, and the student fainted without even managing to scream.
And then—
“You are expelled.”
Thus, he was quietly summoned to the principal’s office and informed of his expulsion.
The excuse that he had done it to save a student did not become a pardon. Of course it didn’t. This time, it had not been self-defense, but a clear intent to attack.
To be precise, even if that had not been his intention, it may have looked that way in the eyes of others.
The reason he had been called in quietly was probably simple. It would be troublesome if another commotion broke out. His friends, who had stood on his side, and the teachers who knew how hard he had worked, would surely oppose it.
Of course, he felt wronged, and he could have rebelled and gotten angry. But—he was far too exhausted, and far too twisted.
And more than anything, perhaps it was because, after feeling even the slightest bit of “satisfaction” from that incident, his heart had been stolen by a possibility he had long considered.
Now he no longer cared what mere extras—not even supporting characters—had to say.
He had been driven that far into a corner, rotting away inside without even realizing it, and from the day of that incident, from the moment the student he had saved called him a monster—he had completely decayed.
No matter what he did, others would never understand. Naturally. Because they were extras. Lacking strength, lacking knowledge, lacking humanity—nothing more than extras.
This was a world inside a game. He was a character who had been possessed into that game. The lives he had to protect were mere scraps of data, or “extras” like himself.
The ones precious in this world were not extras like him—but the shining protagonist and the main cast.
He separated the precious from the rest, and at last, he chose.
He had failed as a hero anyway, and the possibility that had once been one of his options had become the only path left.
Only then did he realize what he had to do. The fact that the man was right in front of him now—perhaps he had even felt a little pleased, thinking it might be an inevitability bestowed by God.
“The rumors spread excessively quickly. Do you know why?”
At the abrupt question, the principal raised an eyebrow and glared at him.
“That is how rumors are.”
“Is that so? I know the truth, you see.”
The other students already knew everything he had done.
Rumors spread far too quickly, so it could not be helped, and yet this had been far too fast. As if someone had deliberately spread them.
And he knew who had deliberately spread them. He even knew why the rumor, which had spread so quickly, had led to such a severe situation.
“Enough noise. Get out at once!”
“—Yes.”
He simply nodded quietly in acceptance. Then he extended the notice he had picked up.
“What are you—”
A sudden assault. A movement so natural that there was not the slightest sense of incongruity.
“Principal.”
In the end, he put into action exactly what he had resolved to do.
“No, lackey of the Brigade of Evil, the boss of Chapter 2.”
“You bastard—”
And so he cut off the principal’s—more precisely, the boss of the second chapter’s—head, then fled as he was.
His escape was successful.
He had killed him cleanly enough that no blood splattered onto his clothes, the students who looked at him with accusing gazes had no interest in what he had just done, and the teachers and the protagonist’s party—his childhood friend—did not run into him.
Even the guards standing at the academy gates must have heard the message from the principal, who was already dead, because they let him out without a second thought.
Having stepped outside the academy so easily, he began walking down the street—
—Hello?
And lastly, he called his childhood friend.
“…Jihyeon.”
—What’s wrong? You were called by the principal earlier. Did something happen? Did he say you were being punished? No, right?
Without sensing anything strange, the heroine grew angry as she imagined what he must have suffered—no,
“…Thank you. For getting angry on my behalf.”
To the friend who had cherished him all this time, who was different from mere extras, who, though she might be a scrap of data, was the only one he recognized as “human”—the most special among those precious to him.
—…Did something happen?
“Thank you for not giving up on me all this time. For being my friend. I was so grateful.”
He offered his final farewell.
—Car sounds…? Where are you right now?!
“You, and my friends. I was grateful to all of you. I’ll probably be grateful for the rest of my life.”
—Hey, Lee Hyeonu! What are you doing right now! Wait, I’m on the phone right n… what?
“You’re different from the others. No, you’d be different no matter who in this world I compared you to.”
Realizing the commotion of the other students coming from beyond the phone—
“Because you’re not mere extras like me. Because you are beings who must, without fail, reach an ending where you’re happy—”
To those different from himself, who had simply been swept up by the story and suffered helplessly, and different from the other students—the protagonist and his companions, the people precious to him.
“I swear I will never give up, so that you will definitely reach a happy ending.”
After vowing that he would ensure they lived happy lives. That he would make them reach a happy ending where no one was hurt, and no one died.
—Wait! Hyeonu!
He hung up just like that.
The street was still noisy, cars passing by, people walking around laughing and talking—a peaceful sight.
“…It’s well made.”
After taking in that scene, which still appeared to his eyes in black and white—as nothing more than NPCs moving about—
He turned his steps into a back alley.
This was the story of his past. A vow that no matter what he had to do, he would save her from this hellish place. The story of how he, once a student who dreamed of becoming a hero—
“—Have you awakened? My god.”
“…I told you not to call me god.”
—became a villain after time had passed; nothing more than a dream on an autumn day in the present.
He glared at the girl waking him, snapped irritably, and rose from the bed.
Outside the window, the sun was slowly rising. The fifth chapter was about to begin—the morning after two years had passed since he became a villain had dawned.