The Villainous Me Turned the Losers into Blackened Bosses-Chapter 10 - "The Ultimate Prize"

With trembling hands and a heart full of excitement, Will opened the thick envelope containing his acceptance letter.

The envelope was luxurious, sealed with a deep blue rose emblem. The six-petaled rose was exquisitely detailed, symbolizing the royal backing of Entark’s First Academy.

Entark’s First Academy was renowned for its advanced magic studies and had produced many top-tier dungeon adventurers. The deep blue rose also represented the potential for royal recognition for its students.

“Hmm… the practical entrance exam is in a week? Susan said my father arranged for me to pack and head to the capital the day after tomorrow. Everything’s already been prepared, and someone will pick me up.”

—And that’s exactly where things will go wrong!

As a wealthy and influential family, the Hysterm household owned a private residence in the capital, meant for their children to stay in while studying. Will wouldn’t have to stoop to living in a dormitory.

But…

It was on the way to this private residence that the ambush would happen!

Will had considered altering the timeline to avoid the attack, but his father’s arrangements seemed inflexible. Refusing would be difficult.

Perhaps this was another thread of fate—an event destined to occur.

In that case, he would stick to the plan he had outlined for himself.

In the original story, Young Master Will, annoyed by Eir’s perceived uselessness, had left her behind when he went to school. The ambush was only briefly mentioned through Eir’s regretful reflection: “Young Master was badly injured.”

But Will wasn’t the same foolish, incompetent “Will” from the original story. This time, he would bring Eir along.

And Eir wasn’t the timid, weak “Eir” from the original story anymore. This time, she had the strength to block an Extreme Flame Meteor.

Heh heh heh, little witch, let’s see if you’re still so smug after this.

As Will thought about it, a sly grin crept across his face.

“Young Master… I know the acceptance letter is exciting, but… but you shouldn’t be grinning like a villain!”

Oh, right. Eir, who had handed him the letter, was still standing nearby, awaiting his instructions.

“By the way, Eir, did you know? The Hysterm family has a private residence in the capital, specifically for young masters to use while studying.”

Will spoke casually.

“Oh, that’s not surprising.”

“But, you see, there are no servants stationed there. Typically, one has to bring a personal maid along.”

“B-Bring a maid?! Th-That means… t-two people… l-l-living together?!”

“Oh dear, it’s such a dilemma. Who should I bring?”

“Huh?!”

Will teased her, one sentence at a time, as he slipped the acceptance letter back into its envelope and turned to face her.

“So… Eir, come with me.”

“Eh? Eh? Me?”

“That’s right. Without you, it just wouldn’t work.”

—

Eir lay in bed, closing her eyes, but all she could think about was Will’s words: “Without you, it just wouldn’t work.”

Her heart pounded wildly.

She opened her eyes.

“Just thinking about going to the capital with Young Master… I can’t sleep at all…”

Eir didn’t know why.

The thought of it made her heart race uncontrollably.

It was such a normal thing. After all, a personal maid raised from childhood was meant to accompany their master, especially when traveling. It was only practical.

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But the more Eir thought about it, the faster her heart raced. The capital’s private residence wasn’t like the grand Hysterm estate—it was a small house with a living room and three bedrooms. One for the young master, one for the maid… ugh! What was she even thinking?!

Her eyes fell on the “300 Questions on Blackening” book on her bedside table.

Whenever she couldn’t sleep, reading something that required mental effort usually helped her drift off.

She opened the book to a random page.

“Hmm… Question 233… What if the person you like is particularly independent and seems like they don’t need you at all?”

Her wolf ears perked up, a hint of panic in her expression.

“When they’re most isolated, stand by their side…”

“When they’re in the greatest danger, shield them with your body…”

“When they’re at their weakest, gently caress their face…”

“People only seek reliance when they’re at their loneliest, most frightened, and most vulnerable…”

“So, make them realize that without you, they can’t survive.”

Eir recalled the moment earlier that day when Will, drained from overusing magic, had collapsed into her arms like a bird with broken wings.

That was the first time she had seen her strong, clever, and independent young master show weakness, vulnerability, and dependence.

It was the first time he had shown her his fragile side.

And the first time he had relied on her.

Thinking about holding Will’s soft, exhausted body, feeling as though he was completely at her mercy in that moment…

In that instant, it felt like she was the only person he could trust.

Eir’s racing heart began to calm, replaced by a sense of peace and happiness.

For the first time, she felt like she understood the true meaning behind “300 Questions on Blackening.”

—

Meanwhile, in Will’s room.

—

To S:

I did it! I successfully cast Extreme Flame Meteor. Although my physical condition only allowed for two uses, the results were excellent. In terms of power, my version reached 7920 Shee, which is above average for fire magic. As for consumption, the vial of catalyst you provided was only enough for two casts, but using small coins as the medium proved very cost-effective.

I also tested blocking it with Ice Armor. The specific values and calculations are included on the attached draft paper.

Thank you so much! I’ve included a small gift with this letter to commemorate our three years of friendship. Please accept it.

—

Will finished writing the letter and picked up the custom-made metal bookmark he had commissioned.

The bookmark was designed to resemble a rectangular card, with a hollowed-out engraving of a “galaxy” formed by countless stars. The stars had tiny perforations, and against the white background of a book’s pages, they appeared to glow.

“Phew, I hope he likes the custom bookmark. Someone who loves reading as much as he does will definitely find it useful.”

Will glanced at the clock on the wall. It wasn’t too late, but he needed to sleep early for tomorrow’s important plans.

After tidying up the letter and addressing it, he opened his “Task System” notebook.

He flipped to the “Witch Leah Arc,” where a specific task was written.

It was the task that followed Eir successfully blocking the Extreme Flame Meteor—Task 38:

—

[Task 38: Block one attack, intimidate the witch, find an opportunity to negotiate with her, use threats and persuasion to gain her trust, and enter the Witch Leah Arc.]

—

Will stared at the blank reward section below and picked up his pen to write:

—

[Reward: Get a good night’s sleep.]

—

As he closed the notebook with a rustle, the last page didn’t fully shut, leaving it slightly exposed.

All the training.

All the tasks.

All the threads.

When everything was completed—when this notebook was filled to the brim—there was one “ultimate prize” Will had written for himself on the very last page.

The moonlight illuminated this page, casting a faint glow over what seemed like an unattainable hope, ready to fade into the shadows of the clouds.

He had extravagantly dedicated an entire page to this reward:

—

[Reward: Find your own “heroine.”]

—

The smile on Will’s face disappeared.

He quickly shut the notebook, as if unwilling to dwell on the topic.

In his previous life, he had never experienced love. He had lived without ever falling for someone or being loved in return. His life wasn’t lonely, but it wasn’t lively either.

Perhaps feeling love was a “protagonist’s” ability.

Perhaps being loved was a “protagonist’s” privilege.

Perhaps loneliness was a “protagonist’s” indulgence.

Perhaps living a vibrant life was a “protagonist’s” destiny.

None of it had anything to do with him, a villain bound by the threads of fate to a future where he would be crushed to death by a slime.

He was an “observer” from outside the story.

He could laugh at the absurdity of it all, but he was also a clown swept along by the current, unable to change his own fate.

But…

He had a small, selfish wish.

He couldn’t remember how he had died in his previous life—perhaps it was from overwork, or maybe he had been hit by a truck while crossing the street half-asleep. After all, 90% of reincarnation stories involved trucks.

What he did remember, however, were his last words before death—

“Heroine…”

“Heroine.”

“Heroine!”

As his final wish… perhaps he had hoped that in this world of protagonists and harems, he could find the heroine of his own story.

Haha, let’s call it the “ultimate prize.”

After all, it’s the hardest thing to obtain yet the most desired, isn’t it?