CHAPTER 269: SECOND VILLAIN ACT [1]

We didn’t really study.

Or rather... Leona didn’t study.

After we got back to the dorm room, we barely made it through an hour before she shoved her chair back and declared she was done.

I tried to stop her. Really, I did. But have you ever tried convincing Leona to do something she doesn’t want to do? Yeah, that went about as well as you’d expect.

So we made a compromise: one hour a day. For now. Baby steps.

After that, we caved and ordered lunch.

Neither of us had the energy to cook after the ranking matches. Honestly, even chewing food felt like a challenge at that point.

Leona sprawled out across her bed, staring at the ceiling like the world had wronged her personally. "Studying is worse than fighting Aria," she muttered.

I laughed. "At least Aria doesn’t put you to sleep after five minutes."

"Speak for yourself," she shot back without moving. "You weren’t the one dodging a shotgun all morning."

Fair.

Still, watching her sulk like that, I couldn’t help but think... this was going to be a long semester.

The food finally arrived, and we dug in like starving wolves.

Leona had ordered enough to feed a small militia, and I had the sinking suspicion I’d be paying for most of it later.

"See?" she said between bites, holding up a drumstick like it was proof of divine justice. "This is why studying is pointless. A full stomach makes you stronger than any textbook."

I raised an eyebrow. "Right. I’ll make sure to tell the professors you’re powered by fried chicken."

She smirked, grease on her fingers, zero shame in sight. "Better than being powered by boring notes."

I shook my head but didn’t argue. Not when I was too busy inhaling my own plate.

For a few minutes, the room was quiet—just the sound of chewing and the occasional clatter of utensils. It was... nice. A small pause in the chaos.

Then Leona, predictably, ruined it.

"Hey, Rin," she said, swallowing the last of her food with suspicious determination. "Be honest. Do you think I can catch up in the general subjects if I actually try?"

Her tone was casual, but her eyes... weren’t.

I put my chopsticks down and leaned back in my chair. "If you actually try? Yeah. You’ve got the drive for it. But..."

"But?"

"You’re going to hate every second of it."

Leona groaned and dropped her head onto the table with a thud. "Ugh. Why can’t sword swings count as essay points?"

"Because then you’d be the top of the class already," I said with a laugh.

She lifted her head just enough to glare at me, but the corners of her mouth twitched upward.

Leona poked at the empty lunch box with her fork like she was contemplating stabbing it. "One hour a day feels like torture already. How do people sit still that long without losing their minds?"

"Practice," I said, stacking my empty containers into a neat pile. "Same way you trained with a sword. At first you couldn’t swing it for more than a few minutes without your arms giving out, right?"

She narrowed her eyes. "...Are you seriously comparing textbooks to swordsmanship?"

"Yes."

"Blasphemy." She flopped back against her bed dramatically, as if my words had physically wounded her.

I rolled my eyes. "You’re making it sound like studying is going to kill you."

"It is going to kill me. A slow, boring death. At least fighting Aria had some thrill to it. But memorizing the history of mana theory?" She let out a long, theatrical groan. "Just bury me alive."

"You’re not getting buried until after the exams," I said flatly.

That earned me a pillow tossed half-heartedly across the room. It smacked against my shoulder and slid to the floor without much force.

"...Weak throw," I commented.

"Shut up. I’m conserving energy."

"For what? More fried chicken?"

She sat up halfway, pointing at me with a mock-serious glare. "Exactly. Studying drains my soul. I need fuel."

"You’re just using food as an excuse to slack off."

"Maybe." She shrugged, unbothered. Then, quieter, she added, "But seriously... do you really think I can do it?"

The shift in her tone made me pause.

She wasn’t smirking anymore. Just watching me, almost like she was waiting for me to confirm something she didn’t quite believe herself.

I leaned back in my chair, meeting her gaze. "...If you put half the effort into studying that you put into fighting, you’d leave everyone in the dust."

Her lips twitched like she wanted to argue but couldn’t. "...Half, huh?"

"Yeah. Maybe even a quarter. You’re stubborn enough."

For a moment, silence hung between us. Then she broke into a grin. "Fine. One hour tomorrow. But you better make it interesting, Rin. If I fall asleep, it’s your fault."

"I’m not a street performer, Leon."

"You are now. Congrats." She lay back down with a satisfied sigh, like the matter was settled.

I rubbed my temples. Tomorrow was definitely going to be hell.

But at least... she was willing to try.

---

Late at night...

The dorm was quiet, save for the faint sound of Leona’s steady breathing. She was sprawled out across her bed, sleeping like a warrior who’d fought the world itself.

Meanwhile, I slipped silently from the room.

—Are you going out again? With that ridiculous villain persona?

’Ridiculous? I’d call it effective. But yes... something like that.’

I pulled the mask from my pocket, its cold surface catching the moonlight. With practiced ease, I wrapped myself in Lan, letting it shift and fold into a jet-black tailcoat that clung to me like living shadow.

’Tonight’s target is the little witch from this morning.’

—That girl? You’re serious?

’Serious as ever. She’ll be useful if she joins us.’

—Useful? You really think you can sway her?

I smirked beneath the mask. ’I don’t just think. I know. Persuading her won’t be easy, but... I have an advantage.’

—And what’s that?

’I plan to use the same method the one who originally convinced her did. The same hook that pulled her into the dark once before.’

—...That’s dangerous ground you’re stepping on.

’Dangerous, maybe. But my terms are far lighter than his. I won’t demand half of what he did. Compared to him, my offer is nothing. She’d be a fool not to accept.’

The night air wrapped around me as I stepped out of the academy grounds, the mask finally covering my face.

"I know what our little witch wants most in the world," I muttered, fingers brushing the edge of the mask. "And I also know how to grant it."

The guys from the Twelve Signs said nonsense like this all the time and looked perfectly fine while doing it. So why should I have a problem?

At least, that’s what I thought... right up until I lifted the mask.

Thump.

My heart jolted in my chest, loud enough that I froze.

"...Huh?"

What was that? This strange, restless impulse rising from somewhere deep inside me.

I stared at the mask in my hand. For a second, it almost felt like it was staring back. Something warm—no, ticklish—pressed against my chest.

"...This thing doesn’t... corrupt its user, does it?" I whispered, half-joking, half-serious.

But even as I hesitated, my hand moved on its own. I carefully lowered the mask onto my face.

The moment it settled, the strange impulse sharpened into something terrifyingly clear.

My throat vibrated, and without meaning to, I spoke aloud.

[Now... can you truly become our comrade?]

The voice that came out wasn’t mine. It was smooth, heavy with authority, and flowed so naturally that not even I could believe it was an act.

I froze, stunned.

"...Wait. That wasn’t me acting. Right? Right?!"

No, no—I was just getting into character. Just... really, really into character.

Yeah. Totally.

I’m telling you the truth, you know...?

I ripped the mask off my face so fast it nearly flew out of my hand. My pulse was racing, sweat damp on my forehead despite the cool night air.

"...Okay. Okay. Calm down." I muttered to myself, staring at the smooth, expressionless surface of the mask. "It’s just me. Just me getting a little too into character. Nothing more. Nothing... creepy."

The mask, of course, said nothing back. But I swear, under the moonlight, its blank gaze seemed to glint with amusement.

—You didn’t sound like yourself just now.

’Shut up.’

—It wasn’t your voice. It wasn’t your rhythm. It wasn’t even your choice of words. That wasn’t an act.

’Shut. Up.’

I shoved the mask back into my pocket and forced myself to keep walking. The stone path out of the academy stretched ahead, lit faintly by hovering mana-lights. With each step, the hammering of my heart started to slow.

Just nerves. That’s all it was. Too many late nights, too much pressure, and way too much fried chicken with Leona.

Still...

My hand kept twitching toward my pocket. My mind replayed that voice. Not mine, but mine. Not acting, but... something else. Something deeper.

And worse of all?

It had felt good.

That authority. That presence. For those few seconds, I wasn’t just Rin the sidekick, Rin the "toy" Alice used to tease. No—I was something else entirely. Someone people would listen to without question. Someone who didn’t need to justify or explain.

The kind of person who could command.

I gritted my teeth. "...Get a grip. You’re not possessed. You’re not cursed. You’re just... roleplaying too hard."

But the thought lingered, stubborn as ever.

What if the mask wasn’t just a mask?

What if it really did carry some... echo of whoever wore it before me?

I shook my head violently, forcing myself back on track. Tonight wasn’t about me—it was about her. The little witch. Convincing her to listen, to hear me out.

That’s all. That’s the mission.

And if the mask helped me pull it off? Then maybe... maybe I could live with that voice.

The path narrowed as I stepped beyond the academy gates. Shadows swallowed me, but for the first time, I didn’t feel swallowed by them.

I felt like I belonged there.

"...Alright," I muttered, slipping the mask back over my face. This time, the voice didn’t surge out of me. My chest stayed steady.

But still—when I spoke again, even I wasn’t sure if it was me or the mask whispering.

[Let’s begin.]