"Clack... clack..."
That was the sound of the train wheels grinding against the tracks, mingling with the city's hustle and bustle as it approached one of the stations. The train and the atmosphere were ordinary, and the number of passengers was not overwhelming. It was the last trip of the day. However, there was something remarkable inside the train...
"Look, there he is again..."
A woman whispered to her friend, her voice barely audible over the train's noise.
"We're in luck... the eye candy is here."
Her friend replied, "Are you sure he's single?!"
"Yes, I'm sure. I've often taken this train with him; he's always alone and rarely receives any calls."
"I don't know, that seems hard to believe. How could he possibly be single with that height, that distinct aura, and those features?! Wow..."
They whispered to each other in fragments, careful not to reveal their interest... but their intentions were clear. They were a little naive...
Their gazes were drawn to a seated man, the seats beside him empty. He appeared to be in his mid twenties, with elegant clothes and sharp, attractive features. His umbrella was neatly placed beside him.
His attractiveness wasn't just in his handsome face; his face exuded masculinity, as did his entire body. especially in his distinctive black suit, his jet-black hair, and his intensely blue eyes.
He was surrounded by an aura of intensity, as if an invisible barrier prevented anyone from approaching him. Yet, the women on the train couldn't resist staring at him, their eyes drawn to his presence. Some stole glances, not brave enough to hold their gaze...
it wasn't just the women; the men's eyes were also filled with envy and jealousy...
"Damn... how can there be a man with that look..."
"His clothes look expensive, but if he's really that rich, why doesn't he own a car? Why is he taking the train?!..."
A man whispered to his friend, his words stemming from his jealousy, wondering why the women were so obsessed with that man. He himself was not bad looking—but let's be honest, there was no comparison.
"Shhh... be quiet, don't bring trouble upon us," his friend replied, while the women's stares around them were like arrows ready to be launched.
"Ah!... sorry about that..."—while trying to forcefully close his friend's mouth.
Some women hesitated to ask for his phone number, but none dared to, due to his powerful aura. They considered him completely out of their reach, and the chance of rejection was high. They settled for gazing from afar, and from this, some developed a new habit: boarding the train aimlessly, without a destination, to live in fantasy...
Meanwhile, on the other side of the train, whether he was aware of their attention or deliberately ignoring it, he showed no sign. His gaze remained fixed, expressionless, as if lost in thought...
The two girls continued their conversation about him non-stop, as if they were living in their own dream. However, their admiration didn't last long. The next station was approaching, and they knew their journey with their "prince" was about to end. They often took this train just for the chance to see him.
°°°
The station announcement echoed through the train:
"Approaching [XXXX Station]. Please mind the gap when exiting."
This was his stop to get off, the closest station to his apartment. He stepped off the train, then paused for a moment, raising his head to look at the sky to check the weather. It had been raining that morning, but now, with night fallen, the clouds had dispersed, revealing a thin sliver of the moon. It had been a long day at the company for him; he was tired, and his steps were somewhat heavy.
He began to walk, his sharp eyes emitting a distinct aura. Some passersby stared at him, but he showed no reaction, continuing on his way.
He seemed lost in thought, as if some dilemma was about to unfold, but suddenly his eyes widened and a spark ignited within them. A hint of excitement appeared, and the fatigue seemed to vanish. His steps quickened, and his mind focused on one thing:
returning to his apartment to do something he had hesitated about all week...
He reached his apartment building, an unremarkable structure that blended seamlessly into any ordinary scene. But he hardly blended into the scene; he seemed to belong to another world...
The sound of his footsteps echoed in the quiet hallway. He climbed the stairs, the hallway lights flickering and blinking intermittently, he walked towards his apartment. He was somewhat exhausted, the weariness seeping into his body.
He reached his apartment door, fumbled for his keys, and finally, the lock clicked open. He pushed the door and entered, closing it behind him with a soft click.
His eyes scanned the dimly lit room. It was a small apartment, just as he had left it: clean, tidy, and meticulously organized. Everything was in its place, clean and neat. This reflected his love and dedication to the small details.
His small kitchen gleamed, and on the kitchen counter, his prized possession: his meticulously arranged coffee-making tools and his luxurious coffee machine. It wasn't just coffee; there were many other beverages.
Nearby, in the living room, the bookshelf stood as a testament to his passion for reading, filled with a variety of books: historical, literary, philosophical, and psychological. His love for books was undeniable.
A subtle air freshener scent lingered—just enough to erase the traces of the outside world
He carefully removed his jacket, folded it meticulously, and hung it in the closet. A shower was his next step. he headed towards the bathroom, his hands unbuttoning his shirt slowly as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Fatigue was etched in his eyes, his shoulders slightly slumped, as if finally preparing to release the burden of a long day. With each piece of clothing he removed, he felt a weight lifting from his shoulders.
Steam rose, filling the bathroom with a warm mist that softened the cool air. His fingers touched the surface of the water gathering in the bathtub, testing its temperature before adjusting it slightly. Then he paused, taking a deep breath, savoring the fleeting moment before fully immersing himself in the waiting warmth.
His body slowly sank into the tub, the heat seeping into his tense muscles, loosening them gradually. His eyes closed, his breathing calmed, and time slowed around him.
Now, finally, he could leave everything behind.
After finishing his bath, he headed back to his small kitchen to prepare his dinner. He stood in the center of the kitchen, selecting ingredients. With a sharp knife, he began to chop the onions with swift, precise movements, while the aroma of fresh garlic filled the hot pan. He melted a small piece of butter before adding the seasoned chicken slices, which began to sizzle and turn golden brown.
While the pasta boiled on the side, he watched the chicken cook thoroughly, flipping it skillfully in the pan. Finally, his special touch—rich cream, grated Parmesan cheese, and a sprinkle of black pepper. He garnished the dish with fresh basil leaves and took his first bite, savoring the taste of his own cooking. He ate in silence, then relaxed on the couch
A table stood before him, and in its center, a novel.—it was a gift from a colleague after he helped her successfully oversee a project. Normally, it wouldn't have caught his attention—it was aimed at young adults, and his initial impressions were: it would be boring, he wasn't a fan of fantasy.
But he had accepted it. Interestingly, he hadn't received many gifts in his life, so he was somewhat excited and it was just a gesture of thanks
She was very hesitant when giving it to him, almost as if her soul were leaving her body from his intense Aura. But there was something worse than that—she gave him the wrong novel she intended to. It went unnoticed by her at that time.
In return, he didn't expect much from the novel, Especially in the early stages of reading it.
It lacked depth for him, and He has a mountain of complaints about it: childish events, exaggerated power, empty dialogues, the author's unfair treatment of the characters, and he loathed the main character with all his being… The list was endless.
What truly captured his attention and made him forget everything was the villainess, Victoria. From the moment she appeared, she ignited a curiosity and a feeling he had never known. One could say the author succeeded in reversing the roles for him; he now despised the main character and sympathized with the villainess...
A whole week had passed since he decided to stop reading the novel due to the escalating events that didn't sit well with him, or perhaps he was afraid something would happen to her. The situation was ominous, especially since it concerned his favorite character in the novel, and he found himself unable to stop thinking about her. All the developments were pointing against Victoria, which worried him about her fate.
During this week, it wasn't just a break; he sat analyzing and rethinking all possible scenarios. After much contemplation, he reached a logical conclusion: his favorite character Victoria was very popular as he assumed, and any harm that befell her would negatively impact the story as a whole. Since the novel was still in its first half, it was illogical for her to face a tragic fate at this point, which gave him some reassurance to resume reading.
His curiosity was gnawing at him from the inside.
He paused for a moment, then said, "Alright."
He reached for the novel on the table, opened the last page he had read, and resumed reading. His mood quickly shifted with the events, especially as they revolved around Victoria.
"Soft flip"
He began reading the next page, then flipped another, and another.
"Soft flip"
"Soft flip"
He quickly became immersed in the pages of the novel. His heart pounded, She was about to engage in a desperate battle, everyone was her adversary, whether they were evil or good, everyone had abandoned her.
...
In the previous chapters, Victoria had successfully taken down her enemies, operating in secret as a phantom assassin, evading capture and keeping her identity hidden. Her victims, all from the noble class, caused a significant stir across the kingdom, and her presence became a serious threat to its stability.
However, in the final chapters he read, her identity was exposed. The method remains unclear, but it appears she was betrayed, revealing her secret. The royal knights set a well-planned trap for her, a cunning and intricate scheme. They used two of her upcoming targets as bait, after discovering the common link between her victims, which was the issue of stripping the "Ravensdale Langford" Victoria's family of their noble title.
This time, the bait was not nobles, but knights, because they believed they could defend themselves against her.
They surrounded her: the kingdom's knights, Prince Rowan, Rowan's right-hand man Marcus, an unnamed assistant knight, and Akra and Lorine, who were acting as bait—these two bore both noble and knight titles and were already engaged in battle with Victoria. It was a hard fight; they pushed her to her limit...
As he continued reading, his heart pounded with anxiety:
« ...The knights of the kingdom, led by Rowan Eldenhurst, charged forward after agreeing to finally eliminate the fallen noblewoman, Victoria. They advanced towards her with their gleaming weapons, ready to put an end to her 'evil'. »
as the author described.
But he didn't see her as evil; it wasn't that simple. He pressed the page, Immersed in the text...
«... She was suffering after Rowan's strike successfully separated her from her followers—an excellent strategy. Now she was alone in the ruined throne room, her black cloak torn at the edges, blood staining her arm. Despite that, her aura exuded a terrifying control, but her eyes and face… signs of illness were even more evident, and a curse appeared on her face, indicating her use of forbidden magic that consumed both her soul and body. It was clear and obvious that she was pushing herself beyond her limits, and using that magic was tearing her apart... »
He felt as if he were experiencing Victoria's pain and suffering, forcing himself to continue reading.
« Rowan declared, "Your secret is out, Victoria! So you're the main cause of these terrible incidents. Because of you, most of the kingdom's knights have lost their innocent lives. You have shed their blood without mercy. You're also using forbidden dark magic. You are accused of all these crimes, and you will never escape." »
He answered in a sarcastically steady tone, his expression unmoved, "Manipulated... blind fool. She targeted the corrupt, did you a favor."
« ... As a knight and prince of the kingdom of Irondale, I declare you guilty and sentence you to the application of sacred justice. I will carry out justice against the evil you have committed, and we will not allow you to spread more corruption in our kingdom, nor will we let the souls of the victims go in vain." »
He sighed. He was always bored when he read Rowan's dialogue.
Although the events were somewhat based on naive and predictable ideas in his opinion, all the possibilities indicated that there was another character behind the scenes, whom he wanted to eliminate by attributing all the crimes to her.
It was a predictable scenario, but he felt a bitter taste in his mouth, so he couldn't control himself…
He continued
« Rowan's eyes darting around the ruined hall. There lay the bodies of Lorin and Akra, who had already fallen.
He whispered to himself, "We've lost too many already! Akra, Lorin, I'm sorry I was too late!" »
A sarcastic voice interjected, "Oh, 'sorry'? How very... responsible of you. After all, it was your brilliant plan that got them killed.
He picked up where he left off...
« ...Rowan's friends followed him one by one. "Don't worry, Rowan, we're here," Rowan's right-hand man stated.
"She's using dark magic! Be wary!" Rowan said, his voice ragged.
A heavy silence descended, the air thick with immense pressure.
"What do you mean? She's really using it?! Marcus asked, his voice barely audible, his grip tightening on his sword hilt.
"That level of carnage... it felt like dark magic. And now we know she uses it."
Rowan's gaze was fixed on Victoria, his expression stern.
"Doesn't this seem familiar? Doesn't it make you wonder about what happened three months ago, doesn't it?"
Marcus's breath hitched, his eyes widening slightly. He nodded slowly, the weight of realization pressing down on him. "You think she was the perpetrator?" »
He commented with a sigh: "Nope, you fool."
« "She's a criminal, of course. And now, she's committed this atrocity. We must end this. Now."
"Let's go! No need to hold back our power before she regains her energy!"
A sacred aura surrounded them as they brandished their swords towards her, their gazes filled with resolve to eliminate the fallen noblewoman, Victoria.»
Rowan declared in his voice, "It's over! You've caused enough suffering."
But she just…it laughed.
Her voice echoed in the hall, hoarse, tired, "it's over? You really think you've won? How amusing... let's see whose time is up first."
His eyes widened as he read the fight.
«... Victoria's eyes blazed with desperate determination, despite her ragged breaths and bleeding wounds. She danced between their blows, dodging with fluid grace, and retaliating with swift, powerful strikes. But it was Marcus's plan to exhaust her, and it didn't take long before she began to falter. It seemed she had reached her limit, just as they had planned. It was a one-against-three battle, and little by little, she began to weaken, to lose ground. Rowan, Marcus, and the assisting knight were no amateurs.
They exchanged glances and coordinated their final attack. Rowan charged from the front, Marcus from the side, and the assisting knight covered their backs. In a decisive moment, Rowan unleashed a powerful, holy magic-enhanced sword strike. As Victoria struggled to parry, Marcus and the assisting knight seized the opportunity, their blades simultaneously piercing her body.»
He muttered in disbelief, "She can't... no. Not now. It's... the middle of the novel. This isn't happening..."
He began to hesitate to turn the page, feeling frustrated. His hopes began to dwindle, and he felt a bitter taste in his mouth knowing that Her fate lay on the next page.
The tension he felt was suffocating. He took a slow breath, He murmured softly, "She has healing powers, doesn't she? It can't be over."
He slowly turned the page
"…slow… flip…"
He cautiously resumed reading, dragging himself through the text word by word, as if delaying an execution.
« ... Blood gushed from her wounds, staining the ground beneath her a crimson red. She slowly raised her head, her eyes blazing with a pale gaze, a look wavering between life and death, carrying within it a bitter mix of despair and rage. She refused to surrender, even in the face of imminent death. »
He muttered in a trembling voice, his eyes glued to the words, as if refusing to believe what he was reading.
"She can't die like this... not after everything she's been through!"
He read on, his heart heavy with grief:
« ... She struggled to gather the last threads of her fading magical power, raising her trembling hands with difficulty, in a desperate attempt to deliver a final blow, to muster what remained of her magical strength. It was her last strike, but suddenly, her magical power shattered, like a mirror breaking into tiny shards, Victoria fell to the ground, her eyes fixed on the crumbling ceiling, as the last thread of her life faded away. She whispered final words, barely audible,
"I'm sorr..."
words lost in the silence of the hall, unheard by anyone. »
Silence. Then—
She... died.
...
"thump..."
He slammed the novel shut violently, its hard cover hitting the table with a resounding thump. His reaction was automatic, without him even realizing it.."
Then, a profound silence settled...
"What?" he murmured.
He stared at the novel, his grip so tight on its edges that his knuckles turned white. His mind struggled to comprehend what he had just read.
"That's it?"
He swallowed the bitterness that rose in his throat.
"After everything? After all she suffered? After all she endured?"
His eyes fell upon the remaining pages, a desperate flicker of hope and curiosity compelling him to open the novel again. Perhaps—perhaps there was something more. An unexpected twist, maybe a turn of events, perhaps she would return...
He flipped the novel open again to the page detailing Victoria's death, forcing himself to read on, but found nothing to satisfy him.
Nothing.
Just the typical arc's end, a time skip, and then the protagonist moving on with his life, hollow dialogues, bland comedy, and, as usual, flirting with his harem without a hint of anything...
His voice, a quiet murmur, carried a heavy weight of sadness. 'Why couldn't you see her pain? You could have saved her, you incompetent fool.'
"I only cared about this novel because of her. If she's gone... what's the point? What's the point of any of this?"
His frustration faded into exhaustion. He leaned back, rubbing his temples.
He wanted to continue reading, but he couldn't. Victoria was the only reason he'd read this novel in the first place... Instead, he pulled out his phone and searched: "Sacred Prince's Journey novel: Crown Warriors Victoria death."
The results appeared:
"...Victoria died in chapter 78..."
It was the same chapter he was reading... A sharp pang hit him after reading that sentence.
Again, he decided to search, this time using: "Prince's Journey Victoria return chapter."
Again, disappointing results.
"...Victoria's last appearance was in chapter 78, in her final battle scene with Prince Rowan..."
his fingers jabbing at the keyboard in frustration: "Victoria return possibility... 'Stupid Prince's Journey' novel." He wrote it that way out of his frustrations.
He scrolled through the search pages until he found a prominent fan blogger who had delved into the topic, and even asked the author directly...
« "...Yes, I asked him directly, without any beating around the bush, if there was any possibility of Victoria's return. He replied: "Honestly, Victoria's popularity wasn't at the level I expected. It was rather disappointing, so I decided to end her arc, and I think it was a decent ending... As for her return, of course not. Look forward to a second character who will be better than her..." »
Those words were like fuel to the fire for him.
He exhaled sharply and stood up, heading to his bedroom and collapsing onto his bed. It was well past midnight. He tried to sleep but couldn't, as his foul mood wouldn't allow it. He kept telling himself, "Pull yourself together, you're a man, not a child to whine about a children's novel"... But , his mind replayed the scene of her death...
Out of frustrations he picked up his phone again to check the novel, then began reading the comments on the fateful chapter 78. But contrary to his expectations, he found that most of the comments were positive about it.
"Victoria's death, who cares? Still only five girls? Author, give us a proper harem already!".
"RIP Akra and Lorine, they will be missed."
"78 CHAPTERS. 5 GIRLS. THAT'S IT? MORE GIRLS OR I'M GONE!"
"Author, give us MORE! We want a real harem!"
"Good riddance! Victoria was annoying anyway. Let's move on to the real plot."
"Author, don't listen to the whiners. More harem, less drama!"
He gripped the phone tightly, and something inside him ignited, "...Damn you all."
He closed his phone and rolled onto his right side. He closed his eyes, trying to sleep while his mind replayed that scene, over and over, the injustice and cruelty she endured, especially in her final moments.
He muttered,
"If I had the chance..."
The thought echoed in his mind...
"I'm sure I would have..."
His eyelids grew heavy.
"...saved you..."
Then, suddenly, he felt an overwhelming drowsiness.
Darkness spread around him. A strange feeling of weightlessness washed over him, a sensation of being without weight, the room around him faded away...
Pitch black.
Then—nothing.