I CHOSE to be a VILLAIN, not a THIRD-RATE EXTRA!!
Chapter 180 - 180: Limitations of Soul Trait (1)

Lying on the ceiling, Ashok suddenly had an idea.

He pressed his palms against the surface, channeling strength into his arms. Slowly, carefully, he shifted his weight, bending his knees, adjusting his balance—until, with deliberate effort, he rose to his feet.

Now, Ashok was standing upside down on the ceiling.

A slow grin spread across his face.

'Now I am Spider-Man. Though, I don't give a shit about saving the world.'

The thought amused him. He wasn't here to play hero.

Then, another realization struck him—one that made his smirk widen.

'Wait! Now that I think about it… Isn't my power the strongest?'

He could fly. He could stick to surfaces. He could stay out of reach while chaos unfolded below.

'I can simply soar high into the sky, watching the so-called main characters get beaten to shit or outright killed—while I enjoy popcorn.'

Even the mental imagination was delicious.

Those arrogant pricks who always shot him hostile glares especially that Fire Headed Bitch, Alina and the Long Eared Elf, Elira? The ones who looked down on him.

Ashok imagined them getting wrecked, their smug faces twisted in agony, their bodies crumpling under the weight of their own failures.

And he? He would be above it all, watching from the heavens, untouched, unbothered.

His smirk deepened as he took his first step—upside down.

Then the second.

Each movement felt surreal, exhilarating.

Ashok continued walking across the ceiling, each step light yet deliberate, as if gravity itself had surrendered to his will.

His thoughts ran deep.

'Even though times seem happy and merry now, only I know what the future holds.'

The world currently around him within the Academy basked in its illusion of peace, but Ashok knew better.

He had seen the story unfold before—played through its horrors, suffered its merciless trials.

'All these joyful moments… they will become nothing more than memories. Life will turn into a living hell for the Main Characters.'

Hell Bringers. Witches. Cultists. Betrayals. Mythical Beings. Outer Gods.

A storm was coming—one that would tear apart everything these people held dear.

And then there was his Fate.

The God of Fate had placed him here, expecting him to help them.

Ashok's smirk returned, but this time, it carried a sharper edge.

'I wonder… what will happen if I don't?'

Would the world crumble faster? Would the so-called heroes fall sooner?

This wasn't just a difficult journey.

This world was built on Nightmare Difficulty—a setting designed to break even the strongest.

'I lost count of how many times I died when I played the game.'

The thought lingered, heavy with irony.

'I wonder… will the Main Characters get the choice to restart?'

As Ashok continued pacing across the ceiling, his mind took a wicked turn.

'If times are looking good, shouldn't I enjoy myself? Can't I use my supernatural power—combined with the Ancient Language—to… peep into the uncharted territory?'

The thought alone sent a thrill through him.

The game had always been oddly detailed when it came to blood and gore—every wound, every brutal execution rendered with unsettling precision. Yet, despite its realism, it had never shown anything beyond violence.

No hidden indulgences and 18+ Scenes.

But now?

Now, Ashok wasn't bound by a monitor or a game engine's limitations.

This was reality—a world where his abilities had no restrictions.

A smirk tugged at his lips. He could explore the unknown in ways no player ever had.

Not once did he consider using his power to spy on the female Main Characters—despite their destined beauty, they were still children, their potential yet to bloom.

No, his curiosity lay elsewhere.

Even though Ashok now inhabited the body of a child, his preferences remained unchanged—his mind was still that of a mature man.

If anything, his interests leaned toward those a step above his peers—the teachers.

The Teacher Dormitory was not on the Main Island, it was on a one of the Mini Island floating around the Academy.

Ashok could use his Gravity to Fly and then Ancient Language to hide his presence to peep onto the Teachers.

But that didn't mean he could do something right away.

'First, I currently can't use the Ancient Language on myself.'

That was the real issue.

Despite his knowledge, Ashok was not yet able to properly wield the Ancient Language.

The reason was simple: he hadn't fulfilled the requirements.

The Ancient Language demanded two essential components to function:

A Medium for Start

A Source for Execution

Ashok already possessed a medium—that part was easy.

Blood, special ink, the essence of trees—any of these could serve as a conduit for the Ancient Language's power.

But the source?

That was the real problem.

The most generic and widely used source was Mana—but Ashok lacked the necessary control over it.

Without a proper source, the Ancient Language remained dormant

The first time Ashok had used the Ancient Language was during the summoning ritual of Morrathis.

His medium had been blood, while his source had been The System/Adlet's Soul/Juan's Divinity.

Even now, Ashok found it difficult to grasp how the God of Fate had managed to merge a Soul with a Divinity.

The concept itself was unusual, almost paradoxical.

Souls were the essence of individual existence, while Divinity was absolute, a force beyond the World Limitations.

The idea that these two vastly different entities could be fused together seemed far beyond the authority of a lower god like Juan, if it was a Ancient God Ashok still would have accepted it but Juan it was simply sounding the impossible.

Yet, it had happened.

The second time Ashok had used the Ancient Language was in the Duke's House.

Once again, his medium had been blood, but this time, his source had been the Old Space Mage's Mana.

That had worked seamlessly, proving that mana could serve as a reliable energy source for the Ancient Language.

However, just yesterday, Ashok had discovered a critical limitation—

He couldn't properly access the mana within his own body.

Mana existed within him, but it was untamed, difficult to channel. Without proper control, it remained dormant, preventing him from using the Ancient Language on his own terms.

This was precisely why he had aimed for the Mana Control Trait from the very beginning.

With it, he wouldn't just gain command over his own mana—he would unlock the base potential of the Ancient Language.

With the full power of Ancient Knowledge, Ashok could confidently say that he could defeat even Leon without effort.

However, at this moment, he was at his weakest.

'Well, it's only a matter of time. The moment I master the Mana Control Trait, Rank 1 will be nothing more than a free piece of cake.'

Ancient Languages were notoriously difficult to complete, even by endgame.

In the game, even when taking hidden routes, it had been impossible to acquire all the different Ancient Knowledges in a single run.

It had taken Ashok multiple playthroughs just to discover them all, and even then, in a single run, he could at best collect three.

But now?

Now, he wasn't just playing—he was living in this world.

And that changed everything.

He knew every single Ancient Knowledge—their locations, their requirements, their hidden conditions.

Every lost text, every forbidden ritual, every secret buried beneath centuries of history—he had already uncovered them in the game.

And unlike before, he wouldn't need to venture into the deepest parts of the world to earn them.

He could wield every single Ancient Language without the struggle, without the endless searching.

Despite his current limitations, Ashok wasn't completely powerless.

Even without direct access to his own mana, he could still create Talismans using an external source. However, these would function almost identically to Magic Scrolls, making them redundant and limited to consumable category.

That was precisely why Ashok had no interest in wasting his blood, credits on Special Ink, or time crafting Talismans—especially when the Duke was already supplying him with Magic Scrolls.

Above, the ceiling stretched like an inverted battlefield, its rubber-like surface designed to absorb impact. Yet, for Ashok, it was solid ground.

He continued walking, his steps steady, his mind racing.

'The Mana Sensitivity and Control Training Class is tomorrow. I'm sure I'll figure out what's wrong with my body then.'

With that, he turned his focus back to training.

Then, a realization struck him.

He had walked nearly half the length of the room upside down, lost in thought, and yet—

He felt no strain.

No dizziness. No discomfort.

His body moved as if the ceiling were the floor, his balance unaffected, his movements fluid.

Normally, anyone in his position would have started feeling dizziness, a pressure in the eyes, or even a strain in the head from prolonged inversion.

Yet, Ashok felt none of it.

There was no discomfort, no unnatural pull—he felt no different than if he were standing upright.

'Is this the passive ability of my Gravity Trait, or is there more to it?' he wondered.

Understanding a Soul Trait wasn't just about meditation or passive observation.

It was well known that Soul Traits evolved over time, but unlike aging, they didn't grow automatically.

To expand the limits of a Soul Trait, one needed a significant level of understanding about its nature—only then could it develop further.

That was precisely why Ashok was slowly testing its boundaries.

He took a breath, focusing.

Gravity. Negative.

This time, he didn't think of multipliers or enhanced effects.

Instead, he focused on the very base—the purest form of his ability.

It was something like Negative Zero— untouched by any multiplication effect. In layman terms, this was the ability that made fall damage zero.

His feet, once firmly attached to the ceiling, began to lift.

Slowly, steadily, he detached from the surface.

And then—

He slowly began to fall, head-first toward the floor below.