"Fuck…! Him? Of all the people I could be? Seriously? I felt bad about him, but that's all. I never said I wanted to be him!" James yelled in frustration.
He stared at the towering Victorian mirror, which looked more like a portal than a mirror, swallowing the dim candlelight in its gilded frame. His reflection stared back, unfamiliar yet real.
"Johan Von Matilda."
The 'evil' father of the main heroine in The Less I Know, the Better.
His gaze drifted over the reflection's features—sharp and ethereal. Pale skin, almost luminescent under the flickering candlelight.
Long silver hair cascaded to his shoulders, half tied into a flowing bun, the rest spilling like liquid mercury down his back.
But it was the eyes that stole all attention: ocean blue, glowing faintly like the eerie light of a deep-sea jellyfish—cold, yet mesmerizing.
His past self would've killed for this height—tall, broad-shouldered, a physique that screamed Aura.
The clothes only buffed it. He looked like he'd walked straight out of a Genshin Impact convention.
A high-collared black linen shirt clung to his torso—soft, but annoyingly itchy—tucked under a midnight-blue overcoat that flared around his knees, the common dress code of House Matilda.
Black pants hugged his legs, disappearing into knee-high cavalier boots that pinched just enough to remind him of their presence.
"Uncomfortable? Absolutely. But damn, I look good!" he said, playing with his silky white hair that felt like a woman's.
Then his brows twitched.
Then there was the mark—a dark, crescent-shaped half-moon etched just above his left brow. Not a tattoo. It felt too… natural.
He exhaled slowly, rubbing his hand against it.
He sealed her there, right… his wife and… Vessel of the Goddess of Death.
Not that it mattered much now.
Johan Von Matilda—me, James—was about to experience hell on earth. The game made all the main characters so overpowered that it felt boring, so they balanced it by making the villains universe-ending threats.
I am neither a main character nor a main villain, thought James, suppressing the urge to bash his head on the black brick behind the mirror.
Johan wasn't weak. An S-rank, skilled healer even. But in front of the protagonist, the main villain, and his daughter? Calling him an ant would be an overestimation.
And my death is really important. Both the antagonist and the protagonist's first goal in their plans is to kill me… He held the tattoo-like mark with some force.
Protagonist Leor wants revenge from me, while Radhan's—one of the villain's—literal life goals is to revive and kill the Goddess of Death… James's frown deepened.
Players and every character in the game despised Johan, so no one cared. And characters had a good reason, too.
Genocide.
Human trafficking and illegal slave trading.
Human experiments on his own people.
The destruction of Midgard—an entire empire—where millions had lived.
And, most of all, bullying of the fan-favourite Selene.
It won't be a lie to say every last person in the world who knows Johan hates Johan. Of course, the main antagonist was forgiven by fans since she was just a troubled girl, thought James sarcastically.
Those soft pacifist simps piss me off, and Johan was not even bullying her, just giving some character development. Look how stopping the bullying made Selene, James cursed under his breath.
But even after knowing what he did, James knew Johan wasn't just evil for the sake of being one. To survive without power at the top of this world required him to be that.
His stomach twisted, remembering something.
What time is it? Has the protagonist awakened his Aether core yet?
If I remember correctly, Johan could be killed hundreds of times in the first week of his awakening. James shuddered at the thought.
He was the stepping stone for the protagonist to gain political influence after marrying Selene.
Suddenly—
A sharp, searing pain lanced through his skull, like a screw had been placed on his head and hammered over and over again.
He staggered, clutching his head as fragmented memories flooded his mind—memories that weren't his.
He sank onto the softness of the red mat on the ground, curling like a ball.
A strategic genius of the great House Matilda—shoved into politics and the military.
Forced into a political marriage. Actually falling in love with his wife.
Killing her with his own hands to save the world.
Becoming the patriarch of House Matilda. Pulling some strings and becoming a divine general and advisor to the King.
Always secretly staring at his daughter's face when she wasn't looking. Protecting her from the smallest of problems from the shadows.
His breath hitched.
Despite knowing this was just a game's plot, the memories of watching over his daughter and wife felt… real. Like he had lived through them.
He clutched the half-moon on his brow.
"…Alya."
Knock! Knock! Knock!
A sharp knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Master! I brought you the wine."
His body stiffened. He could feel his heart beating so fast, as if it was trying to escape from his chest.
Shit. Olivia.
"…Enter."
His voice came out deeper than he expected—rich and commanding. It felt wrong, like someone else was speaking through him.
The door creaked open, and in walked a young woman, her every movement fluid and precise. She was beautiful—unnervingly so.
Pale skin, soft features, full pink lips that curved into a polite smile.
The traditional black-and-white maid uniform fit snugly, emphasizing a well-proportioned figure. Green long hair swayed with her every step, touching her round hips.
Olivia Williams.
A minor noble's daughter. Her family had become vassals to House Matilda after Johan's… persuasion. She had been one of the key players in his downfall, leaking his location and resources to Selene.
Johan's face twitched at the sight of her, but he quickly schooled his expression, offering only a curt nod.
Olivia stepped forward, placing a silver tray on the wooden table near his bed—a glass of deep crimson wine resting atop it.
And then—
She reached for the buttons of her maid dress.
Johan's breath caught. In one smooth motion, she stripped off her uniform.
His brain short-circuited.
What the fuck?!
Bare skin, barely concealed by thin pink lingerie. Wide, round hips perfectly balancing thick thighs. A slim waist, but not too thin, small love handles hanging slightly, only adding to the well-proportioned curves.
Johan froze.
"…What are you doing?" His voice came out sharper than intended.
She flinched. Her fingers hesitated mid-motion. Her breathing hitched, chest rising and falling in uneven waves.
"M-Master?" She swallowed her saliva. "Would you prefer I call for Lady Acier instead…?"
Johan's blood ran cold.
Ah. I see.
A memory surfaced—his memory.
The real Johan had threatened this girl with her brother's life. He had used her, daily, for years.
It hadn't been mentioned in the game, but now… now her betrayal made sense.
Johan Von Matilda was a scumbag.
And Acier. His third wife. A cliché villain who had bullied Olivia her entire life.
Johan's hands clenched at his sides.
"No." Johan shook his head, then motioned with his head for her to stay where she was.
His voice was calm. Stoic even, just like Johan.
But the difference was, he had never felt this guilty before.
Even though it wasn't really him, it was still him. The memories were Johan's, but the mind was still James's. Just… influenced by the memories.
Thankfully, not a merging of personalities.
"…Yes, Master…" she asked, frowning. Is he in a bad mood today?
She remembered those days vividly—when he wouldn't just have sex with her but would grab a whip and keep beating her until every inch of skin was bleeding, then heal her, but still leaving a scar or two to mark her as his property.
Johan stepped closer. Their bodies were only inches apart.
Olivia's warm breath hit his face.
He gently took her hand, feeling its softness, as if trying to reassure her.
"Your brother will be free tomorrow. You can leave with him. I will provide you eight thousand pounds for your… inconveniences."
Olivia's eyes widened to the limit.
Her brother… free?
Tears welled up, not daring to break free. Is this a dream? No! Maybe just another game? Another way to break me? Another one of his fetishes?
Johan sensed her thoughts, and his voice softened. "I know it's nothing compared to what you've been through. I killed your parents. I tortured you. I don't want forgiveness. But… move on." His expression was sincere.
The soft voice of James didn't suit the stoic face of Johan, but the mixture of them was enough to touch her heart.
She sucked in a shaky breath. Tears spilled down her cheeks, dripping onto her exposed breasts. "…Thanks."
"Leave. Get some rest."
She dressed swiftly and left.
Johan exhaled deeply, lifting the wine glass, sinking on the golden cushioned throne-like chair beside his wooden tea table.
I was wrong. I may have no combat power… but I have influence. And the greatest power of all—money. A ton of it. His eyes grew dreamy, looking at the lavish room.
I can still save them all… and grow stronger. His voice grew a bit heavy.
*Ding
[Gambler's Gambit Initiating]
Johan jolted at the voice in his head, his grip slipping. The wine glass tumbled to the floor.
Thankfully, the thick red carpet cushioned the fall, saving it from shattering, but the carpet absorbed the wine like a sponge.
He sighed, picking the glass back up.
A slow grin crept onto his face.
The system. The cheat. It's here!
But then, his brows knit together. Gamble? I mean, I love gambling in gacha games and all, but still…
A blue screen materialized before him. Words appeared, one after another—
[Host will receive quests, each with multiple choices. These choices will drastically alter the ending of the 'game' while also determining the points the host earns.]
Johan chuckled. "Heh, so choices work like the original game. But this game is my life."
Then the most important question rose in his mind. What are these points? Do they give me power?
[Yes and no. Points earned by the host can be used to gamble in various machines, such as Slot Machine, Wheel of Fortune, Roulette, etc. (One thousand points per use.)]
His grin twisted into something unnerving, like the one a molester would give. Interesting.
"System, get ready to be absolutely fucked! I'm the guy who pulls the rarest skins on the first spin!"
Laughter erupted from him—the kind villains unleashed when their plans fell perfectly into place.
Even as it faded, his smirk remained.
Just as he was about to gamble everything—
His gaze flicked to the top-right corner of the panel—0 points.
The smirk wavered slightly. If there was a loan option, he wouldn't have hesitated.
"Alright, System. Any quests?" he asked resignedly.
[Quests will be triggered when the host encounters specific triggers. Triggers that can shift the story. Exploring the estate is recommended to activate the first trigger.]
Johan's smirk returned, darker than before.
"Haha, be ready, protagonist. I'll tear apart your harem and manipulate you into killing the villains for me."
His lips curled wider, revealing gleaming teeth. The expression suited Johan a little too much.
[By the way, Host, today is September 9th, 1501.]
His grin vanished, his mouth twitching unnaturally.
So it all starts tomorrow.