Villain Hiring: Help! Author Wants Me Dead-Chapter 53: Adjustments—

The weight of my name lingered in the vast expanse of Williamloh’s office, stretching beyond the spoken word, beyond the physical form of sound.

It was a name that not many had uttered before, but hearing it from his lips… It was different. It carried weight, significance, a reason I had yet to fully grasp.

Bearateme.

That was my name, given to me when I ascended beyond mortality, when I claimed my right to create and shape a world of my own.

And yet, despite everything I had built, despite the line of fate and consequence I had laid out for my hero Azazel and his journey, I now found myself standing before the one man who could unmake it all with a single stroke of his pen.

I stepped forward, each movement deliberate, my boots making no sound against the non-existent floor.

Space itself seemed to bend and shift beneath me, stars warping, planets rotating at unnatural speeds, the cosmic scenery around us adjusting like a living entity reacting to my presence.

But even in this grand display of celestial authority, i made sure to keep my focus on the man before me.

Williamloh gestured towards the chair in front of his desk—an absurdly ordinary thing, wooden, with no embellishments, no divine engravings, no pulsating energy coursing through it like most furniture in the higher realms.

Just a chair.

Simple and unassuming.

I hesitated.

A chair in this office was more than just an object.

It was a statement. Sitting in it meant acknowledging that I was, at least for this moment, under his authority.

That I was here to listen. To answer. To obey.

But I had no choice, did I?

With a breath I barely allowed myself to take, I lowered myself onto the seat, my gaze locked onto his.

Williamloh folded his hands on the desk, standing upright, that polite smile never faltering.

"Good," he said, nodding slightly. "Now then, I’m sure you must be wondering why I’ve called you here so suddenly."

"I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious," I replied, my tone even. "After all, the last time we spoke, I was given a green signal to proceed with my world as I saw fit.

And now, here I am, summoned once more. I can only assume something has changed."

Williamloh chuckled. "Sharp as always."

He leaned back in his chair, seemingly at ease, though I knew better than to trust appearances when it came to him.

"The truth is, Bear," he continued, "your world has become… rather interesting as of late."

My fingers twitched slightly. "Interesting how?"

He tapped a single finger against the desk.

A motion so small—yet the very fabric of space rippled in response, a vast screen of pure light materializing behind him.

And on that screen, I saw my world.

White hair, blue eyes and a blue longsword that never left his hands.

Azazel.

The Hero.

The paths he had walked, the choices he had made.

And then—

The scene changed.

Black hair, hazel eyes.

That’s all that should have been visible when I looked at Noah’s picture.

A glimpse of something that should not have been there.

A flicker of something beyond my design.

My lips parted, a single breath catching in my throat as I recognized the presence lurking within the fabric of my world.

No.

It wasn’t possible.

This… This wasn’t mine.

Williamloh watched me closely, gauging my reaction. "Tell me, Bearateme," he said, his voice calm. "When did you plan on informing me that an uninvited guest had entered your world?"

I didn’t respond immediately. I couldn’t.

Because the truth was—I hadn’t known.

I should have known.

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But somehow, something had slipped past me.

Past my control. Past my authority.

And now, under the watchful eyes of Williamloh, I was about to find out just who had dared to interfere in my world.

My grip on the armrest tightened. My expression, though carefully schooled into neutrality, betrayed the faintest flicker of tension.

An uninvited guest? In my world?

I dragged my gaze away from the screen, forcing myself to meet Williamloh’s eyes.

His smile hadn’t wavered, his brown eyes still calm, but there was something beneath the surface—something knowing.

He wasn’t just informing me of this. He was testing me.

And I refused to fail.

"When," I started slowly, choosing my words with precision, "did you notice this… intrusion?"

Williamloh tilted his head slightly, amusement glinting in his eyes. "So you admit that it wasn’t of your own design?"

I kept my expression blank. "I admit nothing. I am simply verifying what you claim."

His chuckle was low, almost approving. "Very well. I noticed it not too long ago—when certain patterns began to deviate from your original world structure."

He turned his attention back to the screen. With another tap of his finger, the image shifted.

Noah stood there.

Black-haired. Hazel-eyed. His body slim, yet strong, hardened from the trials I had set before him.

But there was something else now—something that shouldn’t have been there.

A presence that clung to him, unseen by the mortal eye, but visible here, within Williamloh’s domain.

A being hidden in the boy’s shadow.

It slithered around Noah’s form like a silent serpent, barely there, barely noticeable.

A whisper of something that did not belong.

I leaned forward, my brows furrowing. "That…"

"You see it now, don’t you?" Williamloh mused, his voice light, yet weighted.

I saw it, alright.

And I hated it.

This was my world. My story. Every thread of fate had been painstakingly woven by me.

So what was this?

And more importantly—who had the audacity to tamper with my creation?

I exhaled through my nose, schooling my features back into an impassive mask. "It seems I will need to make some… adjustments."

Williamloh nodded, crossing his fingers. "Indeed. But before you do that, Bearateme, there’s one thing I need to know."

I met his gaze again, unblinking. "What?"

His smile grew, but this time, there was an edge to it.

"Tell me," he said, voice smooth, unreadable. "How much do you truly know about the world you created?"

Silence stretched between us.

A strange, heavy silence.

And for the first time in a long time, something in my chest twisted.

Because I had created the core of the world, inputted different commands in them to create the line of fate.

I had designed its functions, its limitations, its role in Noah’s journey.

And yet—

Williamloh wouldn’t be asking me this unless…

Unless there was something about it that I didn’t know.

My fingers stilled against the armrest, my mind calculating, rearranging, searching—but for what?

What was I missing?

Williamloh leaned back, satisfied. "Ah… you’re starting to realize it now, aren’t you?"

He let out a quiet hum. "This is going to be interesting."

I said nothing.

Because for the first time, I wasn’t sure if I had all the answers.

***

A/N:

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