Villain Hiring: Help! Author Wants Me Dead-Chapter 100: Can You Get Me One?

"Did you have that dream again?" I heard Damien's calm voice enter my brain, laced with a hint of worry.

'Hmph..' I half nodded, confusing Sylvie.

I could already feel a lecture coming at me.

"Noah, you can't go on like this."

"Just look at yourself. 5 months back, we had decided to change our fate.

We had decided that by following the Book of Sin and fooling the Author of this book, we would rock."

"And hey! I know I fucked up— I pushed you too hard to follow the lines of fate. But this isn't done man."

"It's been 3 months since that happened…boy. And you haven't used any other ability except for Soul Siphoning."

I almost groaned at the multiple lines he continued to speak, asking him with frustration.

"Then what do you think I do? Huh? Oh great Villain Guiding System? Do you want me to kill myself next?" I did not even realise how worked up I had become in seconds, while Pixie went to bring breakfast from the kitchen as I half screamed at Damien.

"I WAS KILLED IN THE BOOK OF SIN! DO YOU WANT ME TO RECREATE THAT AS WELL???"

"You Bitch—" I continued, Unable to hold my calm as I continued rambling about how he made me do such vile things.

I had gone from being a boy who was scared to attend his own farewell to killing children not even half my age.

Why?

BECAUSE DAMIEN FUCKING ASKED ME TO DO IT.

Because if I did not do it, Grandma Sylvie would die.

Venus would die.

Everything I cared about would cease to exist.

And what did I get in return?

A motherfucking phobia.

My hair had almost turned white because of all the stress.

And every single opportunity I had planned to grasp in the past 3 months had gone to waste.

Taken by the other candidates fighting for power in the Romero family.

Tears started pouring out of my eyes as I choked out a sob.

Fuck.

How.

Do.

I.

Do.

This?

HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO WIN WHEN THE VERY GOD OF THIS WORLD IS AGAINST ME?

"Noah…Pixie is back…"

I barely heard Damien's last words.

My chest felt tight, my breathing uneven.

The weight of everything—the past, the future, the damned Book of Sin—crushed me from all sides.

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My head throbbed, my hands clenched into fists as I continued digging my nails into my palms.

Then, I heard the soft shuffle of feet.

I looked up.

Pixie stood there, holding a plate full of food. But she wasn't smiling anymore.

Her black eyes widened as she saw me—tears dripping down my face, my shoulders shaking.

'Embarrassing.' I thought, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop the way my chest heaved up and down frantically.

The plate in her hands trembled slightly as she placed it down on the table.

And then, she ran to me.

Before I could react, small arms wrapped tightly around me, pressing against my small frame.

Her warmth surrounded me, her grip desperate, as if she could somehow hold me together just by hugging me hard enough.

I froze.

For months—ever since she had started living here—Pixie had never asked me about my nightmares.

Never asked why I would wake up drenched in sweat, shaking, staring at my hands as if they were drenched in blood.

Never questioned why I sat in silence for hours, lost in thoughts I never voiced out.

And right now, I was grateful for it.

Because I had no idea what I would say if she did.

Her fingers tightened against my back. "Noah…" she whispered, her voice soft. "You're crying again."

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop the tears, but the harder I tried, the more they fell.

I hated this.

I hated feeling this weak.

I hated the fear, the helplessness, the crushing knowledge that I was losing.

How the hell was I supposed to win when the 'fucking Author' himself was against me?

How was I supposed to change my fate when every move I made was already written in that twisted Book of Sin?

Damien let out an exaggerated sigh in my head. "Goddamn, look at you, crying in the arms of a fourteen-year-old.

You're supposed to be the terrifying villain, you know? Not the tragic main lead."

I didn't have the strength to argue.

Not this time.

Not when all the stress, all the fear, all the guilt came crashing down at once.

I broke.

I let my forehead fall onto Pixie's shoulder, my entire body trembling forward.

My hands clenched the fabric of her oversized sweater, holding on as if she was the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely.

And maybe she was.

The room was dimly lit, the faint glow of the morning sun barely reaching inside.

The wooden floor creaked slightly beneath us and the scent of burnt toast lingered in the air?

Hehe

Pixie must have messed up the breakfast again—

But none of it mattered.

All I could feel was her warmth, her quiet presence, the steady beat of her heart hum against mine.

Her voice trembled. "Noah, I don't know what's hurting you so much… but you can lean on me too, you know?"

I sucked in a shaky breath.

Could I?

Could I ever let her know the truth?

That I had killed her father.

That I had turned her into an orphan.

That I was the reason she had nowhere else to go.

My grip on her tightened.

No.

She could never know.

Because if she did… she would hate me.

And right now, her arms around me were the only thing keeping me from drowning.

"Noah…that's unfair." Damien's voice creeped into my ears again but I simply snorted.

'Like you have ever played fair with me,

you fatherless bas—"

"You brat, you better be grateful for all the good things I did for you!! You moth—"

I and Damien would have continued bickering if not the utter nonsense Pixie muttered, shocking both of us shitless.

"Um, Noah…I want to integrate with a hollow...Can you get me one?"

***