CHAPTER 51: I AM THE ANOMALY

I can feel the air around me freeze—it’s cold, far too cold. Even the taste of it carries danger, bitter on my tongue and sharp in my throat, like the warning sting before a storm. No... not a storm. An incoming barrage of trash talk, and all of it aimed right at me.

"Do you understand even one tiny bit of what you’ve done just now?" Big Boss’s voice cuts through the air, sharper and angrier than I’ve ever heard it. Seriously, I don’t think I’ve seen him this pissed. Ever.

"Uh... I made the protagonist stronger?" I whistle into the air, pretending not to notice the two enormous glowing—WN—letters floating in front of me, glaring into my soul.

"Made the protagonist stronger? Sure. Right. Right."I swear I can hear him suck in a breath, and then—"NOT ONLY IS HE STRONGER NOW, HE WASN’T SUPPOSED TO AWAKEN THAT POWER UNTIL HIS FINAL BATTLE!"

I wince and cover my ears as the wave of rage slams into me.

"Okay, fine... I admit it. I may have messed up a little. But it’s nothing I can’t fix, right?" I mutter. Honestly, isn’t this good? The story moves faster, which means I don’t have to babysit that trash of a human for so long.

"You wish. Now the entire path is uncertain. If he falls to the dark side, how will you make him slay the demon lord and finish the book properly? Did you think about that before you threw that creature at him? And why was it so powerful? You couldn’t make it half as strong—you had to make it twice?!"

"Well... I..."

"You what?! Shit, I’m going to explode. Listen, Quill. I don’t care if you turn yourself into the new villain or conjure some even more overpowered demon lord, but you will create a final enemy strong enough to give the protagonist a heart-clenching ending. I don’t care how. You made this mess, and you’ll clean it up!"

With a poof, Big Boss vanishes, leaving me alone again, clutching the book of lore in my trembling hands. But don’t misunderstand—it’s not fear. It’s anger. Unfairness. Rage boiling in my chest. They’re all against me, every last one of them. The hell is this supposed to be?

Fine. You want a new, stronger villain? I’ll give you one. But don’t come crying to me when your precious playtoy of a protagonist can’t handle it.

I snap the book of lore open again, pages fluttering as I flip with more anger than care. Shitty Glorius... Shitty system...

{A single powerful swing of Glorius’s sword cleaved straight through the beast’s neck, severing its head in an instant. The once-mighty enemy crumbled to dust, like a burnt leaf scattered by the wind. The party erupted into cheers, but the danger was not gone.

Glorius’s sword pulsed with darkness. The glow it gave off wasn’t holy, nor natural—it felt alive, whispering to him, speaking in a voice none could hear but all could sense. The cheer froze in every throat as realization struck. Something was wrong with their leader. This darkness was not his.

Auror was the first to move. He raised his black shield and stepped forward, cautious but firm. His eyes, however, betrayed him. Doubt flickered there as clear as sunlight in the sky. No leader should carry an aura of death. No leader should make his own party tremble. That was the unwritten law every adventurer knew. And yet, Glorius stood there, shrouded in fear.

"Glorius? Are you... alright?" Auror asked, voice steady through the shield’s cover. But he could already see it. Those eyes weren’t his leader’s. They were too dark, too hungry. Dangerous enough to make him fear for his life.

Glorius’s lips moved, his voice spilling out twisted and metallic, like it no longer belonged to him. "Bring me Quill."}

Ay yo—WHAT?! My eyes widen at the words. This arrogant fool... he actually wants round two? Pathetic. I beat him once, I can beat him again.

{"Quill?" Auror echoed, baffled. He remembered Glorius cutting Quill down like trash before. Why would he need someone so pathetic?}

HELLO? Who beat who? Who’s the pathetic one here?! The audacity... you know what? I’m done respecting you, Auror. Officially revoked. You’re now my third most hated in that party. Lucky for you I can’t mess with the main plot characters, or else I’d make you all eat slugs for dinner. Every last one of you.

{"Bring him to me... you have five days... or else all of your heads will fly." The air trembled, and darkness slithered into existence, twisting into black tentacles. The old Glorius was gone. His body remained, but whatever he had been, it was swallowed whole by the thing now moving inside him.

"Boss, stop joking. Are you alright?" Nox stepped forward, fearless as always. He had always liked Glorius as a leader, but being threatened like this crossed a line.

"Let’s just calm down and find that loser. It’s not going to take long, right—?!" His words cut short as blood sprayed across the ground. An arm flew into the air, the dagger still clenched in its palm out of pure muscle memory.

"AAARRRRGHHHH!" Nox’s scream tore through the silence. The entire party froze, stunned. Their leader—their Glorius—had severed the arm of one of his own. The trust they had built shattered in a heartbeat, replaced by horror. Glorius’s lifeless, darkened eyes showed no remorse, no hesitation.

"Glorius! What the hell?!" Auror roared, charging forward with his shield raised, covering Nox as he writhed on the ground. Luna and Amber rushed in, hands glowing as they worked frantically to reattach the arm before it was too late. The cut was clean, mercifully, and their magic could knit it back together. But the fact that Glorius didn’t so much as blink, didn’t apologize, didn’t care, told them everything. If they failed to bring him Quill, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill them.}

"Fine... I guess Big Boss was right. I messed up worse than I thought." I snap the book shut and lie back with a groan. "Time to sleep and prepare for what’s coming..."

I don’t need to read more. It’s clear as day. Sooner or later, I’ll stand face to face with the protagonist’s party. And when that day comes, I’ll either kill them or make them kneel. As long as Glorius draws breath, it doesn’t matter how the story was supposed to go. I’ll twist it. I’ll bend it. Forget anomalies.

I am the anomaly.