Rebirth: The Villainous Young Master Doesn't Want to Follow the Script - Chapter 86: His Point of View

A filthy, idiotic, hypocritical alcoholic degenerate, known to most as Ricky Freeman, died in a tragic car accident when his lower half was crushed by a drunk driver. Coughing out a bloody mourning for his balls, Ricky finally dies only to wake up in his next life. Reincarnated in the 1920s as a orphaned kid, how will he live in a universe filled to it's brim with cosmic beings-*DING*'Huh?'[Congratulations Host for receiving the Impregnation System]

Trapped as a married woman, she endured, but becoming an abusive mother to her son was unbearable. Her son's biological father also disliked her, something she could not tolerate!Now, she faces a major dilemma: should she keep the door shut and live her small life, or divorce and find a new love with her son? This is a question worth pondering!?【Definitely a pampering tale】ps: This story is fictional, with no historical inquiry, please do not delve deep. Any similarities are purely coincidental. Also, some data in the text are based on the personal understanding of the author, please tolerate any mistakes.

It was in the middle of the night that the woman who would be the Duchess came to see me.

She said my father and mother died, and my kind uncle became king.

She said it’s not worth it for me, the crown prince, to be living in hiding, too.

“A while ago, Your Highness had been hiding from me. With all due respect, is that for the sake of survival? Just because your parents died doesn’t mean you have no reason to survive. Actually, that fact alone made it all the more reason why you should live. If you die now…”

If I died now?

When I asked her while looking at her eyes, the woman eventually brought out the harsh truth with empathetic eyes.

“It’s like a dog’s death.”

“That’s rude….”

It’s been a long time since I said that. In a short while, he has been treated as a madman and beaten to death just by saying similar things. She loosened her arms that held me and I suddenly stiffened up due to it. Because I thought she might have loosened her arm to hit me. But she didn’t.

She knelt down with one knee in front of me, just like a knight.

“Hastred’s Sarian raised her salutations. May you accept it gladly.”

My first knight is beautiful and kind.

“Are you on my side?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

It was all a lie.

All I ever wanted was for famous detectives like Sherlock Holmes or Arsène Lupin to appear in my dreams and share their wisdom. But instead, why am I hearing the voices of notorious serial killers in my head, guiding me to solve a string of mysterious cases?