"Shit...what's with me?"
The man gripped his rending head.
"Did I drink too much last night...?"
How much must I have had to drink that even my voice seems unfamiliar?
Rubbing his throbbing temples, he looked around.
Through the semi-darkness and the strong odor of alcohol in the room, he could barely make out his surroundings.
Empty bottles lying on the floor, a pile of scattered women's clothes – mostly underwear – and utter chaos all around.
"...What kind of pigsty is this?"
Whatever messy life he led, this couldn't be his home.
Did one of my acquaintances take me in? No, first of all, did I have acquaintances living in such places?
His hands reflexively started fumbling around looking for his smartphone.
After searching for a while he felt the rustling of paper. After a moment, he realized what it was.
"Newspaper... Huh, does anyone still subscribe to them these days?"
A beautifully designed newspaper appeared in his hands.
"What will I find next? Cave paintings?"
Grinning, he picked it up, trying to read it in the semi-darkness.
And then the smile slowly disappeared from his face.
"What the...?"
—「113th issue of the St. Luferia Herald」—
✦ [Shocking news! The President of the Student Council has announced her resignation!] ✦
✦ [New Achievements. Mages from the Research Department have made another breakthrough by creating a vaccine for the Black Curse.] ✦
✦ [Topic of the day. Ms. Sky-Olifer: is she really a trap? Private interview.] ✦
St. Luferia Academy.
This was the main venue for Academy Slayer don't want that many girls!
"This is some kind of prank—"
His voice caught in his throat as soon as his gaze locked onto his hands.
Strong, veiny arms covered in tattoos and a few old scars appeared before his eyes.
"No way..."
He quickly jumped up from his seat and staggered to the bathroom. For some reason, he knew exactly where it was.
There, in the midst of the filthy surroundings, several distorted silhouettes of a young man were reflected in a broken mirror.
...But not one of them was me.
Disheveled bleached hair, tall height and large build with embossed muscles, arms covered with tattoos...
Even through that distorted reflection, he recognized that face.
And how could I not recognize him?
Damien Nilfheim.
A bastard who destroys other people's lives.
A trash that steals other people's women.
And the one who gets whatever he wants.
It was Damien Nilfheim, a wicked character from Academy Slayer.
And I was in his body now.
"Haha, fuck…"
With a muffled laugh, he covered his face with his hand.
"Is that even real...?"
A typical story about possession – something that has long since ceased to surprise people.
"But why... why that bastard Damien?"
In fact, even being trash from the First Arc, contrary to expectations, Damien did not die at the hands of the protagonist or his comrades.
Damien lived to see the Epilogue. And regardless of the Ending this world met, that never changed.
But right now it didn't evoke a shred of joy in him.
After all, he still remembered the one phrase that described Damien after his defeat at the hands of the protagonist.
[Deprived of even the mercy of death, Damien was doomed only to go forward.]
Crack.
He broke off one of the pieces of the broken mirror, further twisting his reflection in it.
He stared unblinkingly at the shard in his hand.
If I'm really in Damian's body right now…
His fingers covered in blood as he unknowingly squeezed it hard, but the alcohol in his blood prevented him from feeling it.
He quickly found his target.
Heart.
With a honed swing of his hand, he put it in there.
...or he tried to. Before it could even touch his tattooed skin, the shard stopped a few millimeters from his body.
It wasn't a rational action brought about by his will to live.
I just couldn't do it.
"Haaaa… haaaa..."
Feeling a loud heartbeat of his own heart he flung the shard away, letting it fall pitifully into the corner of the bathroom.
He have no doubts now.
I was Damien.
He was not allowed to die – he was fated to reach the Epilogue, experiencing all kinds of suffering and hardship over and over again.
I knew better than anyone what was in store for Damian.
Whether this was a manifestation of the creator's twisted desire or just a fateful coincidence is unknown, but...
"I'm not going to live that kind of life."
Suffering, torment and deprivation. None of this was what he wanted to experience.
He— no, now Damian, closed his eyes.
It didn't take much thought to figure out the first step.
"Above all, I must stay as far away from the main plot as possible."
Heroines?
They weren't the only women in this world and he wasn't going to risk his life just because of them.
Plot?
Fuck this plot. The protagonist can finish it without him.
Strength, power, and influence?
With the knowledge he had, even without interfering with the main plot he could ensure a good life for himself.
He had no reason to choose something else and enter this endless cycle of misery.
With that, he decided.
"Okay, the first thing I have to do is book tickets to the other continent—"
Knock–knock.
A quiet knock on the door interrupted his plans.
Damien frowned slightly and looked up at the dark night sky behind the drawn curtains.
Who could have come to him so late?
After a little thought, he decided to get rid of this guest as soon as possible and continue with his plans.
With that determination, he went to the door to look through the peephole.
...And immediately wanted to curse that bastard Damien.
He couldn't do otherwise.
Because one of the main heroines and the only key to saving this world – theSaintess – was standing outside his door right now.