Why Am I The Villain?! Reincarnated in My Favorite Novel-Chapter 36: Gray Just Wanted a Quiet Day (Spoiler: He Didn’t Get One) 2

Chapter 36: Gray Just Wanted a Quiet Day (Spoiler: He Didn’t Get One) 2

Gray sighed. "Supervising, huh? I thought you had everything under control with your... subtle methods." He waved vaguely toward the warehouse, where the faint groans of the traffickers still echoed. "But go on, dazzle me. Show me your genius at work. Maybe I’ll find a reason to stay awake."

Libel shot him a smirk. She spun on her heel and headed back into the warehouse. Gray followed reluctantly. Rain drummed on the roof, seeping through cracks to drip into uneven puddles on the floor.

Inside, the gang leader struggled to his feet, his eyes darting nervously between Libel and Gray. The other survivors—a ragged handful of men—huddled in a corner, their gazes flickering between fear and resignation.

Libel strode up to the leader without hesitation, grabbing his collar and forcing him to meet her eyes. "Listen up," she growled, her voice low and menacing, nearly drowned out by the rain. "You said you’re with us, so now you work. And you work hard, because if I come back and I’m not happy..." She let the sentence hang, her smile flashing a promise of violence that drained the color from his face.

Gray leaned against a half-smashed crate, watching the scene with a detached expression. Water dripped from his hair onto his face, but he made no move to wipe it away. "Subtle as ever," he muttered, loud enough for Libel to hear.

She glanced back at him, a grin tugging at her lips, before turning back to the leader. With a sharp motion, she pulled a small metal box from her pocket and snapped it open, revealing a handful of dark red pills.

"Here," she said, shoving the box into the leader’s trembling hands. "Our contribution, since you’re under our command. You’ll get more every two weeks. They’ll keep you sharp for the jobs ahead." She tightened her grip on his collar, pulling him close until their faces were inches apart. "One month from now, I’m sending someone to check. You’d better own every inch of this sector—every alley, every warehouse, every filthy corner. If I find even one rat that doesn’t carry our mark, I’ll make you choke on your own tongue until you’re spitting blood."

The leader swallowed hard, nodding with desperate vigor. "Y-yeah... got it. We’ll do what’s needed."

Libel released him with a rough shove, sending him stumbling back. She stood tall, wiping her hands on her pants as if she’d touched something vile.

Gray raised an eyebrow, still slouched against his crate, looking about as engaged as someone watching a movie they’d seen ten times before.

Libel turned back to the gang leader, a predatory smile lighting up her face. "Oh, I forgot. Those pills? They juice up idiots like you—make you stronger. But if you overdo it..." She mimed an explosion with her hands, adding a theatrical "boom." "Makes for pretty fireworks."

Gray snorted, a half-stifled laugh. "Charming. And you trust them not to screw it up?"

She shrugged, turning to Gray. "If they mess up, I come back and finish what I started. Simple." Then, with a glint of mischief in her eyes, she added, "You should give it a shot, Gray. Might snap you out of your slump. There’s another district to handle—I could let you take it."

He raised a hand in refusal. "Hard pass. I’d rather stay soft and boring, as you put it." He finally straightened, wincing slightly as his soaked coat clung to his shoulders. "So, you done with your show? Because I’m not sticking around to watch the rain turn this place into a swimming pool."

Libel laughed, a rough sound that bounced off the warehouse walls. She gave him a pat on the shoulder—harder than friendly—before turning to the traffickers. "And you lot, get to work! I said one month, not one year!"

Gray watched the scene with his usual detachment, hands in his pockets, as a cold drop of water slid down his neck. He shivered.

"Alright. We out?" he said, not really expecting an answer.

But Libel didn’t move. She was staring at the gang leader—still hunched over, clutching the box like his life depended on it. She smiled, this time without menace, almost amused.

"You know, Gray, there’s something beautiful about fear. It’s pure. Raw. Instinct." She tilted her head back, gazing at the tin roof where the rain hammered like a war drum. "If only we could bottle it."

"You handle the bottling." Gray turned away, his boots splashing through puddles. He paused at the exit, glancing over his shoulder. "From what I’ve seen, Nereva’s not wrong calling you a psycho, is she?"

Libel raised a middle finger without looking back.

Gray laughed and slipped into the shadows.

---

The gang leader stood frozen for a moment, legs shaking, before muttering to one of his men, "Stash this somewhere safe... I think my heart stopped three times."

He glanced at the box still in his hands.

It looked harmless. But now that he knew what was inside, it felt heavy as lead.

He swallowed again.

One month. Not a day more.

If that lunatic came back... they’d better have the whole district screaming their name from every street corner.

---

Farther off, a hooded figure approached a building. They stopped at a locked door, knocked three times, paused, then gave one louder knock.

A slot slid open, revealing wary eyes.

"Password?"

"Chaos is coming. Sharpen your fangs."

The door creaked open.

The stranger stepped inside.

A cluttered room filled with crates. A dozen men and women looked up at the newcomer.

The hood fell back with a rustle, revealing red hair.

Catherine fixed the room with an icy stare, her fingers brushing the crescent scar at the base of her neck.

"Still as charming as ever, Reina," she said to the woman with cropped hair, whose golden eyes gleamed like a predator’s.

An old man pressed gnarled palms to the table. "No games, Catherine. Why’s the Prince sniffing around Dark Hand?"

Catherine let a smile linger before cracking her silk-gloved knuckles. "Because they’ve pulled off what you three couldn’t, Logan." She let the words sink into the thick air, watching the three bosses react. "The Prince wants them in on his plan."

"You mean the rats who torched six of my warehouses?" Reina snapped, her finger tracing an imaginary line toward Catherine’s throat. "Dark Hand doesn’t negotiate. They devour."

A rasping laugh came from the corner, where a man sat with his face veiled in ornate leather mesh. "What a delicious paradox..." he murmured in a silky voice that chilled the room. "The future Shadow King begging for scraps from scavengers."

The table shook under Logan’s fist. "You expect us to play nice with those bastards after the mess they’re making in the underworld?"

Catherine closed her eyes calmly. "Remember who you answer to. The Prince doesn’t care about your petty feuds. One week—that’s how long you have to bring Dark Hand into the fold."

She pointed at each in turn.

"Reina, boss of the Volga.

"Logan, boss of the Cix.

"Zaref, boss of the Sern."

She paused, then said, "Bring Dark Hand in line. That’s an order."

"What’s the Prince planning with them?" Zaref asked.

"Well," Catherine replied, "he thinks they could be useful... if they’re pointed in the right direction."

"The Prince doesn’t know what he’s doing," Reina shot back.

"And if he fails?" Logan added.

Catherine fixed him with a stare. "Then we crush them. But not before we try to reel them in."

Logan seemed to mull it over, his gaze distant. "And if we say no?"

"We’ll do it without you. At your own risk."

A heavy silence followed.

Zaref broke it first. "I’ll set up a meeting with a Dark Hand envoy. We’ll see what they have to say."

Reina sighed. "You’re all insane."

Catherine’s smile was thin. "I’ll let the Prince know. He’ll be pleased." She stood. "I’m expecting big things from you."

She pulled her hood back up. Her shadow stretched across the wall as she headed for the door. Before opening it, she tossed over her shoulder, "And remember... chaos is coming. Better have your fangs ready."

The door shut with a groan, leaving the three bosses alone.

Logan sighed. "We’ll have the other three families breathing down our necks."

Zaref didn’t respond. Reina stayed quiet, her eyes fixed on the wall.

She muttered to herself, "Is this the ’assimilation’ that brazen bitch was talking about?"