The Villain’s Ending

Chapter 5

The First (5)

"Well, who do we have here? Isn't it our young master? Seems like it's been a while, hasn't it?"

From the shadows, one person stepped forward.

Marcus. The leader of the gang of delinquents that 'Lavin' used to hang out with back when he was a scoundrel.

No, that's not right. Since the reputation of being a scoundrel never really dropped just because I showed a bit of a changed demeanor, it would be better to say it was 'before I was me'.

Anyway, after I became this Lavin, the first thing I did was to shake off these leeches right in front of me.

That they were a cluster of human trash bastards was evident even without needing to recall the original story. They were delinquents, not even proper thugs, utterly useless bastards.

"You look like hell. What pit did you crawl out of? Did your glorious fiancée kick you out again?"

Marcus let out a frivolous laugh and circled around me. The others behind him snickered in agreement.

The laughter echoed unpleasantly through the alley."I heard. You're getting kicked out of your family soon, right? And now your fiancée's going to abandon you too. Even if you're truly a high-and-mighty noble, you can turn into dog shit in an instant, Lavin."

Another one nudged my shoulder. At the same time, a repulsive smell, a mixture of cheap perfume and sweat, wafted past.

"Whoa, just looking at your eyes, you look like you're about to kill someone. Lighten up your expression, we used to be pretty close, didn't we?"

I didn't say anything. I just stared at them.

I was tired. I didn't even have the energy left to engage in a petty argument.

"After getting beaten like a dog by Kyle, that arrogant commoner bastard—whether his head got messed up or something—he did abandon us, you know."

With a decent amount of alcohol, smoking a cheap cigarette, I just wanted to stare blankly at the ceiling. At least, that was all I wished for right now.

"Hey, why so quiet? Like before, why don't you hand over some money and tell us to know our place and get lost? Oh, or do you not even have money for that anymore?"

Marcus's fist flew at me, without warning. The movement was slow and clumsy.

And I didn't dodge. It would be more accurate to say I couldn't dodge.

My tired body, steeped in alcohol and nicotine, stood rooted to the spot, regardless of my will.

Thud!

With a dull thud, my head snapped back. A metallic, bloody taste slowly spread in my mouth. The pain arrived a little later than that.

"This bastard, he's really lost his mind, hasn't he?"

Marcus grabbed my collar and hauled me up. The crumpled uniform collar choked my neck.

In the delinquent's eyes, pure delight gleamed.

Indeed, when would some nameless noble nobody from the boonies ever get the chance to hit someone from the Edelgard family, one of the empire's top five?

Even though it was only possible now that I was a half-wit cripple about to be expelled from the family, the prestige of the name 'Edelgard' still remained.

"If you break off the engagement with Lady Seraphina, what will happen to her now? Huh? If she's lucky, maybe Kyle, that bastard? I saw them last time, they looked pretty close. I'm damn jealous. Her body is just, fucking, damn amazing…."

Life was truly fucked. Why am I living as Lavin here?

This bug-like bastard snickering in front of me was truly fucking awful. Why was such a petty human breathing the same air as me, right in front of me?

Even though it wasn't something I had experienced, the memories of 'Lavin' that tormented me incessantly were truly fucking awful. Instead of showing me a translucent message in front of my eyes, how great would it have been if it had given me some useful ability?

'Lavin' was multitalented, yet useless. He could do many things clumsily, but he couldn't do anything properly.

It was truly fucking awful to be buried under infamy and disgrace that I hadn't even accumulated, to be misunderstood. Because there wasn't a single person in this world who would listen to me.

Seraphina, Lana, my father whom I'd never met, my mother who died when I was young, the people of the family, the academy students, even those bug-like bastards who gossiped about my name as if it were an appetizer.

Why is the world filled with only such fucked-up things?

Perhaps, it's just because I'm a lump of problems myself. There's no way those excellent people around me could ever be the problem.

Nothing changes even if I get shot in the head, so this much probably doesn't matter anyway.

I grabbed Marcus's wrist, which was holding my collar. And twisted it.

Crack. Like the snapping of a dry twig, a dry, unpleasant sound echoed in the narrow alley.

At the same time, from his mouth, a scream close to a pig's squeal erupted. I didn't miss the chance and drove my knee into his solar plexus.

Gah! Marcus clutched his chest and doubled over like a shrimp, collapsing to the ground. The guys behind him hesitated for a moment, looking flustered.

I didn't miss that opening. I punched the face of the nearest guy. The repulsive sensation of a broken nose bone transmitted through my knuckles.

From then on, it was truly a dogfight in a mud pit.

There was no fancy swordsmanship, no elegant magic. If anyone had witnessed this scene, they would have doubted whether these idiots in school uniforms were truly students of a prestigious academy.

Only flying fists and kicks, and vulgar curses filled the secluded alley.

Honestly, it hurt like hell. Every time I got hit, it felt like the sound of bones shattering echoed in my head, and I felt like I could collapse any moment.

Since my fighting skills weren't that good, instead of dodging, I took the hit, caught my breath, then threw another punch. If things got really bad, I'd poke their eyes, grab their hair, and smash their face with my knee.

It wouldn't have been a clean, cool, or flashy fight. Rather, it would have looked more like a bunch of filthy curs tangled up, tearing at each other.

That's just how delinquent fights are. If someone was truly good at fighting, whether it was me or these idiots I was fighting, they would have been in a proper knight order training ground, not some secluded alley like this.

With the grand family name attached to my own, even with just decent skills, I would have eventually snatched a Knight Commander position.

Anyway, how much time had passed? When I came to my senses, there were only guys groaning and sprawling on the damp ground around me. I gasped for breath and looked down at them.

My entire body was a wreck. My crumpled uniform was torn in places, and my face must have been smeared with blood and dirt.

My side, where I'd been hit, throbbed terribly, and my left ankle, perhaps sprained from kicking, was now so swollen that I couldn't even feel it.

I spat on the ground. It was red spittle, mixed with blood.

There was no particular reward. Just beating up some delinquent bastards wouldn't yield experience points or money like in a game… Ah, but there would be money.

I straddled the groaning Marcus and rummaged through his pockets. A wallet, a few banknotes, and a crumpled pack of cigarettes came out.

Unfortunately, it wasn't much. It was barely enough for my next round of drinks.

"Well, nothing's fucking going right."

I took out a crumpled, cheap cigarette from Marcus's stash and put one in my mouth. Then I lit it with a match from the wallet.

It didn't taste particularly good.

Or maybe it was just because the air in the alley was dirty.

I casually stubbed out the burning cigarette by grinding it into Marcus's cheek, who was still unconscious.

Sizzle. A repulsive smell of burning flesh rose into the air.

Marcus screamed once more, but there was no power in his voice. Still, my anger wasn't quite sated, so I indiscriminately kicked the fallen bastards a few more times.

I didn't really know what would happen next. Since I was going to be expelled anyway, the family would deal with it themselves.

Either way, it didn't matter. If things really went wrong, I could just blow my brains out in front of Levina, like last time.

Like a leg cripple, I limped away from the spot.

As I walked, a bit of a sight to behold, I felt countless gazes fixated on me. Muttering voices reached my ears, but there was no way good things would be said, so I didn't bother listening closely.

Just as I returned to my room and was about to take a breather, the moment I opened the door, a familiar figure came into view.

Levina was sitting on my room's sofa, with her legs crossed, as if she owned the place.

"You, what on earth is that appearance…."

In her voice, instead of contempt, there was bewilderment. She probably expected her brother to be sprawled out drunk, not a bloody, leg-crippled mess returning home.

"Today's the day, then."

I walked past her and approached the liquor bottle on the table. From Levina, there was a very faint, expensive scent of perfume.

At least it wasn't the sickening smell of lilac.

"I have a rough idea of why you've come, but I have nothing to say. And I don't intend to listen."

I opened the cap and drank straight from the bottle. The strong alcohol ravaged my wounded mouth and burned its way down my esophagus. Now I finally felt a little alive.

"Get lost, Levina. I don't have time to waste talking to you."

Still holding the bottle, I staggered towards the bed. With each step, a terrible pain shot up from my left ankle. My vision strangely blurred, and I collapsed onto the bed.

The last thing I remembered seeing was Levina's face, a mixture of bewilderment and confusion. It was quite a sight to behold.

In 'Lavin's' memories, and the Levina I had personally experienced, she had always worn expressions of contempt and disgust, or authoritative ones, looking down at me or glaring at me.