Why Am I The Villain?! Reincarnated in My Favorite Novel-Chapter 32: Ambition... More!

A burly man broke the silence. "This is an outrage! We can't just sit here. We can't do nothing. We need to strike back—now!"

A murmur of agreement rippled through the assembly.

Another man spoke up. "We've already taken steps, but they've been useless. We have to admit Dark Hand's a bigger threat than we first thought."

The unsettling admission made the first man, who'd demanded action, bristle. His glare burned, but he couldn't deny the cold, hard truth.

As a heavy silence blanketed the room, a woman seated on a raised platform cut through the stillness. "So far, all I've heard is whining and griping," she said, her gaze sweeping every face. "I want solutions, not your bellyaching."

The man who'd pushed for action straightened, ready to snap back, but the one who'd tempered him earlier cut in. "On that note, I've already made a move," he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Intrigued, the other man opened his mouth to ask when the door burst open.

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Jet-black hair framed a face with delicate features. She wore an elegant outfit, a subtle blend of modern and traditional: a fitted black dress hugged her slim figure, a blood-red silk scarf draped over her shoulders. Her slender hands gleamed with silver rings.

"You held a meeting without waiting for me? How rude," Page teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

A murmur swept the room, dotted with hushed whispers.

Unfazed by the stir, Page sauntered toward an empty chair. "So, gentlemen," she said in a soft, mocking tone as she sat, "playing little soldiers without me? How adorable."

The man who'd brought her in, an old figure with white hair and weary eyes, turned to her. "Settle down, Page. Things are serious—we couldn't wait."

Page fixed him with an icy stare. "Serious? Really?"

A broad-shouldered man with a weathered face shot to his feet. "You've got no right to talk like that, you little brat!"

Page looked him up and down with haughty disdain. "Really? Look at yourself, darling. Pathetic. You're all squabbling like seagulls over a crumb while a pack of wolves gears up to rip you apart."

The man clenched his fists, his face flushing red. "You don't know what you're talking about!"

Page let out a crystalline laugh that echoed through the room. "Oh, I think I do," she said, eyeing him with contempt. "Proof's in the pudding—I'm here to save you from your own incompetence."

"We don't need your arrogance here, Page," growled a hulking man, his face etched with years of wear.

"Lovely to see you too, dear Falgoss," Page replied, her voice dripping with frost. "Seems you've forgotten our little skirmishes."

Falgoss opened his mouth to retort, but a gesture from the woman on the raised seat stopped him. "Enough."

She turned to Page. "As for you, watch your tongue in my presence. Your arrogance has no place here."

Page met her gaze with a smirk. "My words bother you, Madame?"

"Emrys, you've brought us a doll with quite a mouth," the woman shot back with a cynical smile. "Should I rip it out?"

A chill swept the room, lifting Page's hair into a wild, electric mess. Her smirk didn't waver.

Emrys turned to her, exasperation in his eyes. "Page, please," he whispered. "Stop poking the bear. This isn't the time for games."

"Oh, Emrys, always so dour," Page said, sizing him up with scorn. "Haven't you ever learned to loosen up? A little humor wouldn't kill this bunch of buzzkills."

A woman with ebony hair and steely eyes leapt up. "Who do you think you are to talk like that?" she shouted, her voice quaking with fury. "Don't forget you owe everything to this organization. Your life's in our hands, you ungrateful wretch."

Page fixed her with an icy stare. "Threatening me?"

"Calm down," Emrys cut in quickly. "We don't have time to bicker."

He turned to the dark-haired woman. "Riane, you know I brought Page here for a reason. She's the only one who can help."

Riane glared at him before looking away. "Then let her stick to why she's here."

Emrys sighed and faced Page. "Think you've overdone it a bit?"

Page let out an exaggerated, teasing sigh. "Oh, fine," she said, suddenly calm. "If you insist, I'll shut up. But then tell me—why'd you call me? What can I do for our oh-so-precious organization?"

Emrys glanced at the woman on the raised seat. "Mistress," he said hesitantly, "may I?"

She nodded permission.

With a snap of Emrys's fingers, a flash lit the table's center, and a man's body appeared as if by magic.

He turned to Page. "Well, what do you make of this?"

Page closed her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. When she opened them, a shiver ran through the room.

Her eyes had changed.

They blazed with an unfathomable light, their deep blue irises evoking the boundless expanse of a celestial ocean. Around the pupils, shifting hues danced like a sunset's glow.

"She's really back," a trembling voice whispered.

"So these are those famous eyes," another said, voice thick with awe.

"Those damn demon eyes," Falgoss muttered sharply.

Page seemed oblivious to the reactions. She fixed her gaze on the body on the table.

After a quick glance, she turned to the council.

But no sooner had she—

A thin line of blood appeared on Page's cheek.

"Who gave you permission to turn those eyes on us?" the woman on the raised seat said, her voice laced with menace. "Do you want to die?"

Unfazed, Page closed her eyes.

With a slow, graceful motion, she wiped the blood from her cheek. Her tongue darted out, precise and swift, savoring the droplet with almost lascivious delight. A cruel smile spread across her lips. "Ah," she murmured, her voice soft and hypnotic. "I'd almost forgotten how delicious it tastes."

She reopened her eyes—normal now—and locked them on the woman above.

"Die?" Page whispered, her tone soft and mocking. "Do you think me that fragile?"

The woman narrowed her eyes, her stare sharp as a blade.

"Don't test me," she hissed, voice trembling with anger. "Never forget your place."

Page shrugged casually. "Your chill never fails to freeze me to the bone," she said, mockingly sweet. "I've missed it, truly."

The woman smiled back. "And your confidence never fails to surprise me." Her gaze grew colder. "Do you think yourself so indispensable?"

Page tilted her head, smirking. She stared at the woman for a long moment, then turned to the council, eyeing each member with that same taunting grin. "The real question isn't who, but why."

The council exchanged glances.

"Why?" Falgoss ventured.

Page's smile widened. "Why? Well, allow me to enlighten you."

She turned back to the body on the table. "Rondo's death came from his own ambitions. All it took was exploiting that to take him down. What an idiot! Trust me, his death's a boon for this organization."

She faced the council again. "As for the why," she said, voice icy, "you're just steps on their ladder."

"Be clear!" Falgoss barked. "What are you on about?"

Page turned to him, her smile cruel. "You've been wrong from the start," she said mockingly. "You were never their target, darlings. Their agenda's aiming much higher."

She shifted her gaze to the woman on the raised seat, her eyes glinting dangerously. "Dear Madame," she said coldly, "Dark Hand couldn't care less about puppets like you."

The woman straightened, her face paling with rage. "How dare you?" she roared, voice shaking with fury. "I order you to shut up!"

Page laughed, a clear, ringing sound that filled the room. "Shut up?" she said, shrugging. "Oh, I don't think so. I've got plenty more to say."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "Don't defy me, Page," she growled, her voice thick with power. "I told you to shut it."

Page shrugged, smirking.

Emrys stepped in. "Calm down. We're all here for the same reason," he pleaded.

The Mistress turned to him, anger flashing in her eyes. "You're too soft, Emrys," she snapped. "Your little pet's just a spoiled brat who thinks she's a goddess."

Page shrugged, unbothered by the jab. "Goddess?" she said nonchalantly. "Not far off the mark."