I Am a Villain, So What?-Chapter 135: World’s Malice

Even before passing the Imperial Academy’s main gate, the whispers began.

"There’s trash Lucien." "It’s him." "The sewer brute."

At this point, I was practically a school landmark. A monument to infamy.

Especially after yesterday’s incident.

"He beat up the Sewer Guards! Six of them!" "Ugh, horrifying! Why would he do that? Does he just enjoy violence?" "No manners, no class. A disgrace to the Ashborne name."

Even the Protagonist Party, with all their influence, couldn’t cover up the assault on the city officials. Witnesses had seen me smash a guard’s face with a rifle butt. They didn’t see the reason—the tearful reunion with Irina or the desperate escape—they only saw the violence.

’Such is my fate.’

I adjusted my tie, ignoring the glares.

Even after saving the city from a nuclear-level mana explosion, my reputation didn’t improve. It was as if the world itself was rewriting the narrative to keep me in the role of the villain.

[Passive Effect Active: World’s Malice]

Description: The world resists changes to the destiny of the Villain. Good deeds are misinterpreted; bad deeds are amplified.

’Yeah. It’s definitely against me.’

*****

[Class A - Lecture Hall]

The atmosphere in Class A was chilly.

As always, I sat in the back corner, isolating myself.

Mariella was sitting at her desk, her head bowed low. She looked pale. The morning paper—branding her a clumsy fool who caused a massive explosion—was tucked inside her bag.

Kael and Elisha glanced at me repeatedly, their eyes filled with a mix of guilt and hesitation. They wanted to talk, to thank me, to apologize for Mariella taking the fall.

I ignored them, deliberately pulling out a cleaning kit for my rifle.

Click. Clack.

The sound of metal on metal created a barrier around my desk.

’I’ll handle the Arlon debt later,’ I thought. ’Not here. Not where the vultures are watching.’

The door opened, and Instructor Samantha swept in, her purple robes billowing.

"Today is Basic Magic Training."

The room quieted down.

"Elementary magic is a mage’s domain," Samantha announced, placing a stack of crystal discs on the podium. "But Basic magic is different. It is a survival skill. With a textbook, anyone can learn it in a day. It has low difficulty but excellent utility."

She scanned the room, her eyes lingering on the physical-oriented knights.

"A knight who doesn’t know basic magic is like an explorer without a first aid kit. You are a liability. If you cannot light a torch in a dark dungeon, or cauterize a wound with a spark, you will die."

She waved her hand, and the crystal discs floated to each cadet’s desk.

"The learning goal is the Five Elements: Fire, Light, Wind, Aqua, Earth. Know that failing to master them will critically impact your cadet record."

"Ugh." "I’m screwed..." "Hah, magic. I hate memorizing formulas."

The swordsmen groaned. To them, manipulating mana was harder than swinging a greatsword 1,000 times.

"Magic, huh."

I looked down at the Five-Element Tablet on my desk. It was a grey, dull disc. The goal was to infuse mana and shift its nature to light up the five colored gems embedded in the rim.

Naturally, I was a novice.

I had spent a ridiculous amount of System Points and chugged High-Grade Mana Potions to forcibly expand my mana pool, but my talent stat for magic was still abysmal.

I placed my hand on the tablet.

"Begin!"

[20 Minutes Later]

"Done!" "Yay! I got Aqua!" "Finished!"

Within ten minutes, the talented mages had cleared the assessment.

Elisha had lit up all five gems in thirty seconds, looking bored. Mariella, despite her mood, finished quickly with her immense mana control. Even Kael, who had mediocre talent, brute-forced it with his protagonist determination.

They glanced at me again.

"Uh..." "Hmm."

Kael stepped toward my desk.

"Cadet Lucien," he started, lowering his voice. "About yesterday..."

I didn’t look up. I kept my eyes closed, my hand hovering over the tablet.

"I’m concentrating," I said coldly. "Get lost."

Kael flinched. He looked at the unlit tablet, then at my stern face. He sighed and retreated.

’I’m sorry, Mariella,’ I thought internally. ’I’ll make it up to you with interest. Just... not now.’

Eventually, the Protagonist Party gave up and left for their free period.

The room emptied.

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty.

Only ten cadets remained—the "Leftovers." The ones with zero magical aptitude.

I gritted my teeth.

[Skill: Mana Manipulation (E-Rank)]

I visualized the flow. Not as a mystical force, but as gunpowder.

Ignite. (Fire) Flash. (Light) Flow. (Water)

Buzz.

Finally, the fifth gem on my tablet glowed a dull brown (Earth).

"Phew."

I stood up and walked to the podium.

"Twenty minutes," Samantha noted, checking her stopwatch. She looked surprised. "I expected you to take the full hour, Cadet Lucien. Your entrance records showed near-zero mana sensitivity."

"I’ve been practicing," I lied.

"...You’ve got grit. Good. Free time."

I nodded and turned to leave.

As I walked down the aisle, a soft sound caught my ear.

"Ugh...!"

A cadet was hunched over her desk, her shoulders trembling.

Flames flickered weakly in her hand, sputtered, and died out. Smoke rose from her fingertips.

"Damn it... why won’t it stabilize?"

I paused.

It was Ariana.

"...Trouble with the fire element, huh?" I asked, stopping beside her desk.

The girl jumped, nearly knocking her tablet over.

"Yes...! Oh, Lucien!"

She looked up, her ivory hair messy and her glasses askew.

It was Ariana.

My alchemist. My partner in crime. And... well, technically, my girlfriend, though we kept that quiet at the Academy to protect her from my "Trash" reputation.

"I don’t get it!" Ariana whispered, pouting. "I make potions that explode with the force of a cannon! I brew liquid fire! Why can’t I light this stupid little rock?"

I chuckled, leaning against her desk to block the view of the other students.

"Because you’re an Alchemist, Ariana. You’re used to using catalysts—sulfur, mana stones, oil. You’re trying to build a fire with chemistry."

I reached out and gently corrected her hand posture.

"Magic isn’t chemistry. It’s will."

My fingers brushed hers. She stiffened, her cheeks turning a shade of pink that matched the Fire Gem.

"Don’t think about the fuel," I whispered. "Think about the heat. Think about the burner under your cauldron when you’re brewing a Level 5 elixir."

Ariana blinked. Her eyes focused.

"The burner..."

She closed her eyes. She imagined her lab. The hiss of the gas. The blue flame.

WOOSH!

A burst of fire erupted from her fingertip—not a small candle flame, but a blowtorch jet.

"Eek!"

She panicked, cutting the mana. The flame vanished.

But the red gem on the tablet was glowing brightly.

[Pass.]

Ariana looked at the tablet, then up at me, beaming.

"I did it! Thanks, Lucien!"

She looked around to make sure no one was watching, then quickly squeezed my hand.

"By the way... I saw the newspaper."

Her voice dropped, her eyes serious.

"Top-Grade Mana Stone explosion? Mariella?"

She looked at me with knowing eyes. As a genius Alchemist, she knew a mana stone explosion didn’t leave "no traces." It left radiation. The clean crater in the slums... that wasn’t a malfunction.

"You were involved, weren’t you?"

I smirked, picking up my bag.

"I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Ariana rolled her eyes, smiling.

"Liar. Just... be careful. Rumors are scary things."

"I know."

I patted her head—a quick, affectionate gesture before pulling my hand back as Samantha looked up.

"I’m heading out. Don’t blow up the classroom, Alchemist."

"Hey! I have perfect safety standards!"

Leaving a pouting Ariana behind, I walked out of the classroom.

****

As I walked out of the classroom, slinging my rifle case over my shoulder, someone blocked my path.

The hallway was crowded with students rushing to lunch, but they parted around this particular girl like water around a stone.

It was Clara von Marigold.

The pink-haired girl I had carried out of the burning crater. The puppet who had stood in the fire.

She looked different today. Her twin-tails were neatly tied, her uniform pristine, but the usual bubbly energy was gone. Her eyes were red-rimmed, yet clear.

"Um... hi."

She fiddled with the hem of her skirt, then looked up.

"Young Master Lucien."

I paused.

"I’m not someone to be called ’Young Master’ by a Marquis’s daughter, Lady Clara."

Young Master. Lady.

These were terms of respect reserved for highborn heirs of good standing. Technically, I was a Count’s heir, but since I arrived in this world—and thanks to the original Lucien’s reputation—this was the first time a peer had addressed me with my proper title instead of "Trash" or "You there."

"No," Clara shook her head firmly. "You are the heir of House Ashborne. And... you’re my savior. To me, you are Young Master Lucien."

"...."

When she put it like that, with such stubborn gratitude, I couldn’t insist otherwise. It would be rude to reject her dignity.

"Fine. What do you want, Lady Clara?"

"..... I just wanted to thank you."