I Became The Novel's Biggest Antagonist-Chapter 92: Isaac Crawford

After finally sending Lunevy and the others away, Adam retreated to a secluded spot, ensuring that even the workers couldn’t see him. He needed to be alone for what was to come.

Standing in the shadows, Adam placed a hand over his face. Slowly, he pinched the empty air before him, as though grasping something unseen. Then, with a sudden motion, a crackling, ancient energy—silver and ominous—burst forth, engulfing his face and body.

The transformation began.

Adam’s frame stretched subtly taller, his lean arms growing more defined. His clothes shifted, morphing effortlessly into an entirely different ensemble: a finely tailored waistcoat that exuded elegance and nobility, woven in shades of black and white, and clearly of the highest craftsmanship.

His hair, once white, darkened to a deep pitch black, elongating slightly until it reached the nape of his neck. Despite the lack of visible restraint, the hair tied itself neatly with what seemed to be a ribbon knot. The transformation completed in moments.

When the figure finally opened his eyes, they gleamed with a cold, piercing silver.

For those of the Last Empire, there would have been no mistaking him. Standing there was none other than Isaac Crawford, the ruthless State Secretary of the world’s Mightiest Empire. A man whose very name struck fear across the world.

Isaac took a slow look around before turning his gaze to his hands. He flexed his fingers experimentally, clenching his right fist before opening it again.

"Fascinating," he murmured, his voice as cold as the silver in his eyes. A faint smirk tugged at his lips, betraying the thrill of what he had just experienced.

This was Isaac’s first true ’Switch’. The rush coursing through him was intoxicating, a sensation he knew all too well from the first awakening of his other personalities. But this? This was something entirely different.

His mind flickered briefly to the time Ivan had showed glimpse of himself against that demon during Ludivine’s attack. Yet even that encounter paled in comparison to the true Switch of today.

This was his true body. His true Eyes.

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Isaac could still feel it.... the memory as vivid as though it were happening again. The dozen swords piercing his flesh. The agony of his death. All of it orchestrated by a pathetic handful of rebels.

His jaw tightened, and his silver eyes darkened.

"I should have killed that dog of Nimue’s when I had the chance," he muttered darkly.

It had been his gravest mistake, and it had cost him his life.

All because of one woman.

Her face flashed in his mind—her sweet smile, and the words she had whispered to him:

"You can’t kill me, Isaac, because I am the only woman who will ever love you."

Anger flared within him at the mere thought, but Isaac forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

He narrowed his attention to his silver eyes, their metallic sheen glowing faintly as the black pupils dissolved into nothingness. His eyes were hypersensitive to movement and mana, granting him a sight so acute it felt as though he could peer straight through the earth beneath him.

Step by step, Isaac scoured the ground with his enhanced vision until he caught the faintest ripple emanating from somewhere deep below.

With a single, fluid motion, he vanished from his position and reappeared directly above the source. His gaze swept the spot beneath him.

"It’s here."

Raising his hand, Isaac summoned a beautifully crafted silver revolver into his grip, its designs glinting with an otherworldly elegance. With a subtle flick of his wrist, the weapon’s cylinder spun open, revealing empty chambers.

"Something silent and strong should do it," he muttered. As if in answer, a single bullet materialized within one of the chambers.

Snapping the cylinder shut, Isaac leveled the revolver at the ground and pulled the trigger.

The bullet tore through the earth with tremendous force, leaving a deep, smoldering hole. The sound was almost imperceptible.

Isaac peered into the hole for only a moment before plunging inside without hesitation.

When his boots hit solid ground, he quickly surveyed his surroundings.

Scattered across a cluttered desk were stacks of papers, worn files, strange vials, and odd trinkets whose purposes were inscrutable. But Isaac paid them no mind.

He wasn’t here for trifles. He was here for the Book mainly.

Adam’s plan was to just find the spot where the hideout was but even Adam had relinquished control to Isaac when the latter had fully taken over. Isaac worked differently. He was going to secure the book but also other items before the others could come.

Still, even with his keen eyes, the Book was nowhere to be found. This wasn’t unexpected; anyone with half a brain would know better than to leave something so crucial lying around in plain sight.

Yet Isaac wasn’t entirely disappointed. If the Book wasn’t here, then at least there might be clues—anything to identify the one who possessed it now.

He thought of Krainel’s ally. By now, that person likely had their hands on the Book, keeping it hidden even from Krainel himself. Isaac wasn’t surprised. The Book’s very nature inspired an almost fanatical obsession in anyone who held it, compelling them to guard it zealously.

As Isaac scanned the room for traces of the ally, he suddenly stopped.

A presence.

Without turning, he raised his gaze.

"Krainel warned me I’d be tracked. But I didn’t think it would be this soon."

A voice echoed from behind him.

"Turn around, and you will die," the stranger added.

Isaac remained calm, his tone almost mocking. "You’re making this much easier for me."

Disregarding the warning, he turned.

"I warned you."

-BAM! Stay connected with empire

A deathly black line shot through the air, aiming to pierce Isaac’s skull with blistering speed. But to his eyes, the attack moved in slow motion. He tilted his head slightly, dodging the strike.

The man’s eyes widened in shock as he clutched a thick, ancient tome to his chest with desperate eyes.

Isaac’s gaze settled on the book, and he immediately recognized its thick corrupted mana. One of Asmodeus’ Books.

"It’s mine!" The man shrieked. His eyes were bloodshot and he had a gaunt expression. He probably didn’t sleep for days fearing the Book would be stolen from him at nights.

Isaac looked at him only pity at the pathetic figure—then stepped forward.

The air around them shifted violently.

-BAM!

The man let out a strangled cry as an invisible force slammed him to the ground. The weight was crushing, as though the gravity of the world itself had turned against him.

Isaac’s footsteps echoed through the trembling room slowly reaching the man. With a flick of his wrist, the Book tore itself from the man’s trembling hands and floated toward Isaac.

"No! No, please! Don’t take it from me!" The man howled, thrashing against the weight pinning him down. But he was utterly powerless, unable to lift even a finger under Isaac’s pressure.

The Book landed in Isaac’s hand, and the room seemed to darken as its vile energy flared to life.

The corrupted mana surged, writhing with malevolence, clawing at Isaac’s mind. It sought to seep into his soul, to corrupt, seduce, and ultimately consume him like it did with the man on the ground.

But Isaac remained unshaken. The Book’s power, potent and insidious as it was, barely scratched the surface of his mind.

Isaac summoned Ivan’s Stigma—the mark that bound him across all his ’incarnations’. Its radiant black aura enveloped him, banishing the Book’s influence instantly.

The oppressive aura dissolved, its feeble attempts to dominate him reduced to nothing. Isaac tightened his grip on the Devil’s Artifact and his lips curled up a little.

"There’s no way a mere fragment of a Devil could harm me."

"N–NO! He chose me! It’s mine!"

Unfortunately at that time, the man’s desperate scream echoed grating against Isaac’s patience.

Isaac’s brow furrowed in annoyance as he raised his revolver, the barrel aimed squarely at the trembling figure on the ground.

"Every human comes into this world with a purpose to fulfill," Isaac began, his eyes devoid of sympathy locked on the man. "Some are destined for greatness. Others… are not. You belong to the latter. Cry, shout, beg if you like—it won’t change the fact that today is the day you die."

"Ah…" The man let out an audible sob, his face twisting into a mask of terror.

"Choose, then," Isaac asked.

"N–No… please—"

-BANG!

The gunshot echoed briefly, the man’s futile protests silenced forever. His lifeless body slumped to the ground, his blood and brain matter splattered across the cold floor. Isaac didn’t spare the corpse a second glance.

Instead, he calmly turned his attention to the room, scanning for anything of value—artifacts, documents, or clues that could be useful. Amidst the chaos, he found something interesting: a letter sealed and placed on the desk.

Breaking the seal, Isaac’s eyes flicked over the content, his lips curling into a faint smile as he finished reading.

"For a miserable peasant, you certainly have noteworthy connections, Krainel Salvador," he muttered under his breath.

Folding the letter and tucking it away, Isaac turned toward the exit. With a swift kick, he propelled himself upward, landing smoothly above ground.

It was time to revert to Adam’s persona.

"..."

Isaac froze mid-motion as he sensed a presence behind him. Turning, he found himself face-to-face with Luna-Evelyn. Her blade was raised, her ruby-red eyes glinting coldly with suspicion.

She wasn’t alone.

The others, stood at the ready, their weapons drawn as well.

Luna-Evelyn’s gaze dropped briefly to the Book in Isaac’s hand before locking onto his cold, silver eyes.

"Where is Adam?"