Why Am I The Villain?! Reincarnated in My Favorite Novel-Chapter 37: Gray Just Wanted a Quiet Day (Spoiler: He Didn’t Get One) 3

Chapter 37: Gray Just Wanted a Quiet Day (Spoiler: He Didn’t Get One) 3

A black sedan with tinted windows eased to a stop in front of the main entrance.

The rear door opened.

A polished boot touched the ground, then another.

Reina stepped out. Her amber eyes scanned the scene. The usual calm of the courtyard was gone. A dozen of her men waited, stationed around the car, weapons drawn. Their faces were masks of forced neutrality, but their hands trembled faintly.

"Tch..."

Reina’s brow furrowed, a slight crease forming as she shut the door with a calm gesture. Her long black coat swayed gently in the breeze.

Then a figure approached, casual, a smirk playing on her lips.

Eve.

Her gaze locked onto Reina. She ran a hand through her hair, shadows slithering around her feet like snakes.

"Such a pity, but order’s gotta change sometime, right?"

Reina didn’t reply. She watched her men aim their weapons at her.

"Aim well," she murmured.

A blink later, she vanished.

The first shot came too late. Reina had already slipped behind the shooter, her blade flashing in a glint of steel. A cold light sliced the air.

Her sword, so fine it seemed drawn in ink, cut the man’s throat. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc.

Before the body hit the ground, Reina moved again.

A blur.

A leg broken. An arm disarmed. A throat slit.

One man stumbled back, firing blindly.

Reina deflected the bullet with the edge of her blade. The impact rang metallic.

An elbow to the windpipe. A knee to the ribs. The crack of bones echoed under skin.

In under six seconds, twenty men lay fallen.

The last few hesitated. Reina gave them no choice.

She lunged forward. Her curved blade cleaved the air, slicing clean through an assault rifle’s barrel. The man screamed. Reina shattered his jaw with the flat of her hand. Another tried to flee; she pinned him to the ground with a strike to the neck, her heels stained with blood.

Silence.

Reina stood tall amid the carnage, her shoulders still relaxed.

Only Eve remained standing, her black eyes gleaming.

"I see she wasn’t lying about you," she whispered.

The shadows around her quivered, then surged.

Dark arms, blades born of nothingness, spikes hurtling toward Reina with lightning speed.

She parried. The impact reverberated through her arm. Reina stepped back, deflected a blade, leaped to dodge a shadowy tendril aiming for her leg.

Eve grinned. "You dance well. Let’s see if you can improvise."

She stomped the ground.

Reina’s shadow warped, then rose like a black puppet. A dark clone lunged at her, mirroring her stance, blade in hand.

Reina retreated, blades crossed. The clash of metal against shadow sent a shockwave. She darted forward, slipped under the clone’s arm, and severed its head in a spinning strike.

But the shadow reformed instantly.

"Not that easy," Eve taunted, hands in her pockets.

She unleashed a swarm of shadows, all alive, shrieking. One grazed Reina’s cheek; another tried to coil around her ankle. She spun, slashed, leaped. A rain of black blades fell from the sky like needles of death.

Reina rolled across the ground, then threw her sword in a spinning arc. The steel sliced through the air, dispersing a cluster of shadows creeping too close.

She caught her blade mid-air.

"Your tricks won’t cut it."

"Just trying to wear you down," Eve said. "Blood, stamina... even you have limits."

Reina’s eyes narrowed.

Then she moved.

In a single bound, she closed the distance to Eve, sword raised. The shadows reacted, forming a black wall between them. Reina drove her blade into it, vaulted over, and struck with a heel kick. Eve blocked with a shadow shield, but the force sent her tumbling through the dust.

Reina landed, slid across the ground, and rose with feline grace.

Eve staggered to her feet, spitting blood.

The shadows around her flickered, jittery, erratic.

She raised her arms.

A massive shadow lance erupted, menacing.

Reina inhaled.

Then she closed her left eye.

Time seemed to freeze.

When she opened it, her pupil was no longer human. It was a vertical slit, burning yellow, like a predator awakened.

Her body became a blur. She dodged the lance at inhuman speed, reappearing behind Eve. The sound of her movement arrived only after.

A streak of blood.

Eve fell to her knees.

Her side was torn open.

She tried to summon shadows to defend herself, but Reina placed her blade against her throat, calm as ever.

"You’ve lost."

Eve’s arms dropped. The shadows dissolved in a gust.

"I know," she murmured, smiling. "That was fun."

Reina stepped back.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Applause echoed.

"Beaten that quick?"

Eve chuckled, blood on her teeth. "Shut your trap, asshole."

Reina didn’t move. Her gaze pierced Roman, who stopped five paces away, hands in his pockets.

"No denying it, this’ll be tough." He snapped his fingers.

Eve shot upright, her wound gone—shadows had rewoven her flesh in a web of black veins. She spat at Roman’s feet.

"Stupid plan."

Roman ignored the jab. His ice-blue eyes settled on Reina.

"So..." He drew a pistol from his belt. "Ready for round two?"

Reina smiled.

"Bring it."

---

A tower gleamed under the midday sun, its glass walls reflecting Zaun’s bustle. On the 40th floor, stilettos clicked rhythmically on marble, breaths were held, and eyes darted away. All attention converged on a door at the hall’s end, etched with a single name: Kang Fraos.

The CEO, Kang Fraos, paced his office with mechanical precision. Dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, he glared at his Swiss watch with mounting irritation. 10:58. The VIPs were due at 11. On the dot, or not at all, he’d warned.

His gaze landed on the General Manager, Katlis Grans, who was nervously adjusting her pale blue dress—too flimsy for a meeting of this weight.

"Katlis." His voice made her flinch. "The quarterly financial report. You’re certain the numbers are airtight?"

She nodded, a strand of black hair slipping from her bun. "Yes, Mr. Fraos. Triple-checked."

He narrowed his eyes, sizing her up: subtle red nail polish, Louboutin heels, Chanel No. 5.

’Too polished for a 28-year-old GM,’ he thought. The board was already whispering that her promotion wasn’t earned by skill alone. Kang hated the rumors. But he hated the idea of being wrong about her even more.

Downstairs, at the main entrance, a gray Hyundai i10 slipped between black limousines. No logo, no uniformed driver. Just two hooded figures stepping out, white masks glued to their faces. The guard frowned, but a call from Kang ordered him to let them through.

On the 40th floor, the elevator dinged. The doors slid open.

Kang straightened, one hand behind his back, the other gripping a pen. The two strangers moved slowly, unbothered by the stunned stares. The taller one wore a shapeless black coat. The shorter one sported a fitted leather jacket and platform boots.

"Welcome," Kang said, his voice tinged with tension. "We’re honored by your visit."

No response. The white masks, smooth as eggshells, turned toward him. Then the smaller figure slid a hand under her chin, unfastening the mask with a mechanical click.

Her hair spilled free, framing a porcelain face with cherry-red lips. Her eyes bored into Kang, cold and calculating.

Libel sank into Kang’s leather chair, crossing her legs with feline grace. Her companion stayed by the door, arms crossed, mask unmoving.

"So," she began, toying with a crystal paperweight. "This little cosmetics empire of yours... thriving?"

Kang sat across from her. "Our market share grew 15% this quarter. The Pure Glow campaign—"

She cut him off with a sharp laugh. "Numbers. Words. I want the real picture."

A glance at Katlis, who hurried to switch on the projector. Graphs flickered across the screen.

"Our online sales spiked thanks to influencers," Katlis explained, her voice wavering. "And our new factory in Cheon—"

"So what?" Libel tilted her head, a predatory smile spreading. "How much did you rake in?"

Kang felt a bead of sweat roll down his back.

Katlis stammered, "We... we secured nearly 600 million Jils this month."

"That’s short." Libel raised a hand, her jet-black nails glinting. "We agreed on a billion, didn’t we?"

She leaned closer, locking eyes with Kang.

"Cosmetics," Libel murmured, feigning boredom. "Such a lack of imagination. Is this really the best business you could build?"

Kang clenched his fists. "We—"

"Enough." Libel smiled, nodding toward her companion. "My associate hates wasting time."

She stood, circling the desk to rest her hands on Kang’s shoulders. "You’ve got three weeks to make up the rest. Or else..."

---

In the descending elevator, Libel slipped her mask back on.

"You went easy on that crew," her companion grumbled, his voice now unmistakably male and laid-back.

Libel laughed, pulling out a smartphone. She flashed the screen. A message: The Volga have fallen.