The Villains Must Win
Chapter 206: No Second Chances 6

Chapter 206: No Second Chances 6

That ridiculous, smug, oddly adorable bunny stood over me with wide eyes and a guilty look twitching at the edges of its face.

It nibbled on something nervously, ears tilted downward, tail flicking like a faulty metronome.

I blinked hard, my breath catching in my chest. I shot up—tried to, at least. My body felt weightless, almost floaty, but the memory hit like a freight train.

"What the hell just happened?" I gasped, my hands flying to my throat. No bruises. No pressure. No lingering heat from a struggle. No blood.

I wasn’t in that room anymore. I wasn’t under him. I wasn’t dying.

"Did I . . . fail?" I frowned, voice barely above a whisper. "That can’t be right."

I stared at the bunny, hoping it would laugh, wave its paws, say Just kidding! and hit the reset button with sparkles and fanfare. But it didn’t.

The silence was deafening.

I struggled to swallow the bitter lump forming in my throat. I had died. I had actually died within hours of entering that world. No boss battle. No dramatic final stand. Just smothered in a hospital bed by a man I was supposed to guide, support, and somehow make win.

It was the first time I’d ever died at the beginning of a game.

"What the actual hell?" I muttered, pressing a shaky hand to my forehead. "Even noobs survive longer than that. I’m supposed to be a veteran at this!"

My pride twisted painfully in my chest. I wasn’t just some casual player—I held records. Flawless entries. Perfect villain routes. I’d cleared nightmare modes and corrupted worlds and turned bloodthirsty tyrants into romanceable husbands. I wrote guides for this stuff.

And now?

My voice broke into a panicked laugh. "Oh my beautiful records," I groaned, dragging my hands down my face. "If the community finds out I failed at the intro of a world? I’ll be roasted alive. Canceled. Memed into oblivion."

TheLegend defeated by a pillow, three minutes into the tutorial level.

Fantastic.

I imagined the forums now, flooded with screenshots and sarcastic commentary. Speedrun to the afterlife achieved by yours truly. New world record!

"All those top-star ratings . . . ," I whimpered, chewing nervously on a thumbnail. "All that flawless reputation . . . wiped out by a psycho boyfriend and a stupid decorative pillow."

"I’m screwed," I muttered.

Utterly, painfully screwed.

I picked at my nails, trying to calm the storm raging inside me. But the more I thought about it, the worse it got. I hadn’t just died—I had underestimated everything. The world. The villain. The emotional parameters. And worst of all, myself.

I wasn’t just playing a new type of villain route anymore.

I was in the middle of something much darker . . . and for the first time, it wasn’t just about strategy or romantic tension or turning the bad guy good.

This time, it was survival.

And my perfect record? Might be the least of my problems.

"I can’t accept this . . . ," I murmured like a deranged person, hugging the last of my sanity.

The bunny took a guilty hop back, ears drooping. "Uhhh . . . so . . . tiny, little hiccup in the system."

I looked at it confused.

"Actually . . ." the bunny said, scratching behind its floppy ear, "you were accidentally thrown into an A-rank world because of a, uh, glitch. Totally not your fault—well, mostly. But don’t worry! It’s all fixed now, so we’re gonna send you to a nice and manageable B-rank world instead."

"And since it’s not your fault, you will not receive any punishment at all."

I stared at it.

Silent.

Still.

So stunned I swear my soul detached for a moment to process the stupidity I just heard.

"A . . . B-rank world?" I asked, slowly, as if my brain needed extra time to translate the insult.

No wonder there was no tutorial and I had this unstable male character who acted gentle and psychopath at the same time . . . so that’s a taste of an A-rank world.

The bunny smiled like it was handing me a cup of warm cocoa. "Yep! Lower stakes, easier romance arcs, way less attempted murder. It’ll be comfy, and suit you right now!"

I inhaled.

Held it.

Then exploded

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?!"

I started pacing, arms flying, heart hammering. "You’re telling me to just downgrade like this is some cozy little indie game?! Do you have any idea who I am?! I have a perfect gaming record! Do you understand what that means? I have never failed a simulation. Not once. I finish everything with top scores and flawless endings!"

The bunny shuffled back, blinking rapidly. "I mean, technically you didn’t fail—"

"I DIED."

"You died for like, three seconds."

"Which is three seconds too long!" I snapped, stabbing a finger toward the heavens—or whatever digital sky this simulation hub had. "If anyone finds out I died during the intro of a game, my entire reputation will be toast. Burned toast. Soggy, mocked toast. They’ll make memes. Fan edits. Someone will remix my death into a trending sound!"

The bunny cringed. "Okay, yes, but—"

"I refuse to go to a B-rank world like a washed-up side character! I have a streak to protect! A reputation! I would rather die again than start over in some watered-down love story with emotionally available bakery boys and manageable childhood trauma!"

"I don’t think the trauma levels matter that much—"

"It matters to me!" I said, dramatically picking at my nails like I was a diva moments from emotional collapse. "This is my pride, my legacy, my record! You don’t just bounce back from something like this with a casual romance and a ’simplified difficulty mode.’ What am I, a practice NPC?!"

"You should really just go to a B-rank world," the bunny said, slipping right back into its nonchalant attitude like it hadn’t just watched me get nearly murdered. "Clearly, you’re too early for an A-rank."

I blinked at it.

Then slowly, my lips curled into a smile that wasn’t really a smile. More like a warning.

"No."