Why Am I The Villain?! Reincarnated in My Favorite Novel-Chapter 50: A Dream Against Fate

Had he been too bold?

The maids had begun dressing him. They unfurled a deep blue tunic, adorned with intricate patterns. Nero watched them in silence, lost in thought.

"This is really bad timing..."

His plan to defeat the Godless King was in its critical phase. If Ayeros uncovered his schemes...

A sigh escaped him, and he caught himself smiling—this time, genuinely. "That’s what makes life exciting, isn’t it?" he murmured, more to himself than to the maids.

One of them, a young woman with braided hair, glanced up briefly, startled, before focusing back on the buttons of his tunic.

Nero let out a soft laugh. Yes, it was risky. Terribly risky.

He’d just realized his plan wasn’t as flawless as he’d thought, and everything could come crashing down on him.

Just when he believed he’d outrun his doomed fate, the past of this body caught up faster than expected.

It was going to be tight.

Nero furrowed his brow, clenched his fists, feeling a dull pulse throb in his chest.

"I won’t let anything ruin this chance I have..." he whispered, the words sharp with icy intensity, "...to live my life fully in this world."

His aura erupted, raw and uncontrollable.

A chilling shiver swept through the room.

The maids froze, trembling silently, eyes wide, as if the air itself had solidified around their master.

Their breaths hitched under the crushing weight of that murderous energy.

Then, it all subsided.

Silence.

Nero exhaled slowly, eyes half-closed, calming the storm within.

He slipped his arms into a dark cloak one of the maids—still trembling—offered him and strode toward the door.

He cast a final glance at the room, his red eyes gleaming with newfound resolve.

Fate might have challenged him, but this time, he intended to master it.

He left the room without another word.

He moved quickly through the silent hallway, his tunic rippling with each step.

"I overlooked too many variables..." he growled under his breath. He pressed his fingers to his temples. Everything was accelerating too fast. He needed to rethink his entire strategy.

His thoughts raced. In Joranis, his ministers eagerly awaited tomorrow’s meeting. A full debrief on the next steps of the plan was supposed to be shared, but in the current state, holding it would be suicidal.

He pulled a small communication device from his inner pocket. A few taps on the screen, and a message appeared:

Tomorrow’s meeting canceled. New orders to follow. Hold positions. – N.

He sent it to his five ministers, then let out a long sigh. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

He knew that deviating from the novel’s original script would cause ripples. But he hadn’t anticipated they’d be so violent, so sudden. The world seemed to react to his actions like a living organism, defending itself, adapting.

Suddenly, he stopped dead. His heart skipped a beat.

In the main lounge, bathed in the golden glow of a chandelier, a man sat calmly, almost casually, holding a steaming cup of tea. He was dressed simply—a plain black suit, slightly tousled brown hair, and pale gray eyes.

The man looked up, a sly smile tugging at his lips.

"Surprised?"

Nero stood frozen for a moment before slowly entering the room. He sat across from the man, his gaze piercing. An ironic smile curled his lips.

"The Owl in person. I’m honored."

The man’s eyes hardened. He frowned.

"If you recognize me, then you really are Zeref. I preferred your old face. This one... looks like a comic book villain."

Nero shrugged. "You’ve got to start fresh sometimes. But for a ghost, you’re taking risks showing up."

The man set his cup down slowly, almost ceremonially.

"I had no choice. Darius is on his way to kill you. Before he does, I needed to learn as much as I could about you."

Nero tilted his head, intrigued. "And what exactly do you hope to learn?"

"Why you chose to show up now."

Silence fell. Nero stared at the fire in the hearth for a moment.

"I have my reasons."

The man leaned forward slightly.

"You’re going to die, you know that, right?"

Nero met his gaze. "That’s what you say."

A faint smile crossed the stranger’s lips. "I know you’ve built an organization. I don’t know all the details yet, but I’ll figure it out. It’s only a matter of time."

He stood, brushing off his jacket absentmindedly, and took a few steps toward the exit. "Point is, you’ve got nothing left to hope for. Reappearing was madness."

Nero closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. Then, in a calm voice, he said:

"Tell me, Sebas... have you ever had a dream? A real desire?"

Sebas stopped dead. He turned slowly, his face tight, his eyes glinting with restrained anger.

"Don’t call me that."

The silence grew heavier.

"I’ll ask you one last time... You really don’t want to talk?"

Nero spread his arms slowly, a calm smile on his lips, his red eyes burning with unshakable determination.

"I have a dream. And I’m dead set on making it happen. Nothing will stop me. Not you, not Darius, not this world."

Sebas stood frozen, jaw clenched.

"You’ve always been insane..." he muttered finally.

"Or maybe..." Nero replied, standing, his gaze blazing, "...I’m a misunderstood genius."

Sebas didn’t respond immediately. He let the silence linger for a few seconds, then let out a short, dry, mocking laugh.

"A dream?" he repeated, stepping closer to Nero, hands in his pockets. "You throw that out like some cheap shonen hero."

Nero didn’t move. He watched him, calm, measured.

Sebas continued, a cruel smile tugging at his lips:

"I wonder how you survived last time. When Darius pinned you to that damn wall like an animal."

His gaze was sharp, almost feral, as if trying to unearth a secret hidden behind Nero’s red eyes.

Nero just smiled. A serene smile, as if savoring the moment.

"I told you..." he said softly, "...I have a dream."

Sebas’s smile twisted into a grimace. He took another step, menacing.

"A dream, huh? You think that’ll save you when he burns you to ash?" He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a near whisper: "Darius won’t miss this time. But if, by some miracle, you survive... I promise what I have in store for you will be far worse."

Silence fell again. This time, Nero didn’t respond. He locked eyes with him.

Then, in an almost jarring calm, he said:

"You should knock next time."

Sebas raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the light tone.

Nero added, his lips curling into a sarcastic smirk: "It’s polite, even for a ghost."

Sebas vanished. Literally. His body seemed to dissolve into the air, like a wisp of smoke.

The lounge fell silent again.

Nero stood still, staring at where Sebas had been. His smile was gone. His face darkened, his features taut. His red, gleaming eyes fixed on the empty space with icy intensity.

"I won’t die..." he whispered under his breath. "Not a chance."

He whipped his head toward the entrance, his voice sharp and commanding:

"Housekeeper!"

The door flew open, and a young woman with hastily tied hair rushed in, eyes wide with worry.

"Yes, Master?"

He stared at her for a moment, then gestured slowly toward the coffee table.

"Who served tea to the man who was here?"

The housekeeper swallowed hard. Her gaze flicked from the still-steaming cup to her master.

"I... I don’t know, my lord. When I came in, the teapot was there, the cup too. I thought you had..."

Nero closed his eyes briefly. A flash of understanding hit him. He pinched the bridge of his nose and hissed through his teeth.

"Devious skill..."

He opened his eyes, colder than ever.

"Clear that cup. Now."

The housekeeper bowed and hurried to obey.

"And prepare two more. Neutral infusion, no altering herbs. I’m expecting a guest."

She glanced at him, confused.

"A... guest?"

Nero crossed his legs.

"A friend."

The housekeeper hesitated but didn’t dare ask more. She slipped out quietly, leaving Nero alone with his thoughts.

’This isn’t just a chess game anymore. It’s a living game. And I’m at the center.’

He closed his eyes.

The plan he’d built in the shadows, piece by piece, with patience and cunning, was at risk of unraveling. His five ministers awaited orders. The meeting was canceled. But he’d have to act faster than planned.

A bitter smile curved his lips.

’Fate doesn’t like cheaters, does it?’

But he had no intention of losing. Not now. Not after everything he’d already poured into this.

He rose slowly and walked to the wide bay window overlooking the city. The night bathed the skyscrapers in a pale glow. Below, the streets buzzed with lights, echoes of lives, and unseen dangers.

In this world, so like his original one yet twisted by the threads of a tragic novel, he was an impostor.

And a dreamer given a chance to thrive.

He pressed a hand against the cold glass.

Behind him, the faint clink of a cup being placed on a tray echoed.

The housekeeper had returned. He turned to her.

"Inform Klein. Tell him to meet me here in one hour. His mission is on hold until further notice."

"Understood, Master."

He approached the tray, eyeing the two steaming cups.

His finger tapped the rim of one.

"I’m betting my life on this move."

He sat again, crossing his arms, his eyes glinting with a new fire.