An Unwritten Story [LitRPG, Evil MCs]

Mmm~ So soft... what a nice pillow.

Half-unconscious and adrift in the hazy tide of lingering sleep, Lina allowed a blissful smile to tug at her lips. The pillow beneath her cheek was unlike any she had ever known; it radiated warmth and possessed a gentle, rhythmic rise and fall that felt almost alive.

In her half-dreaming state, she sighed, wrapping her small arms around the plush surface and nuzzling her face against it.

Hmm? Lina’s eyes fluttered open, her vision blurry as she lifted her head just a fraction. B-Boobs?!

The realization struck her: she hadn’t been sleeping on a pillow at all. She had somehow rolled across the room in her sleep, burying her face in the valley of Seliora’s cleavage. The ‘divine cushion’ was, in fact, the soft curves of a royal.

Though... they really were the best pillows ever. She smirked despite herself, a tiny, mischievous thought crossing her mind before she checked her surroundings. Thank god she isn’t awake—speaking of which, what about the others?

She rolled away with the silent agility of a thief, surveying the wreckage of the previous night’s revelry.

The room was a tapestry of exhausted bodies, everyone pinned to the spots where sleep had claimed them. But as her gaze drifted toward an edge of the lounge, her breath hitched.

What is with those two? She stared at Noa and Vionette, who were entangled like twin vines. Wait... what is—!

Uhhh... my head... Vionette’s consciousness returned in slow fragments. Her eyes remained shut, her eyelids feeling heavy, but her body was beginning to register its surroundings.

As she rolled over, her arm draped naturally across Noa’s right shoulder. She felt the cool morning air against his collarbone, where the top buttons of his shirt had somehow come undone.

...Noa? Oh right... the wine. But how did I end up this close to him?

Out of nowhere, a loud shriek sliced through the morning silence, shattering the peaceful atmosphere. Vionette bolted upright, her heart hammering against her ribs.

“What the fuck is it now?” Noa groaned, rising slowly and gingerly massaging his temples as if trying to keep his brain from rattling.

“Big bro, don’t move! Something bit you! Something huge!” Lina shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at his neck.

Something... bit him? Vionette blinked, her confusion thick. What kind of creature could bypass his defenses, even when he’s off-guard?

[Warning! User is in a state of confusion!]

[Problem detected: Due to alcohol consumption and relaxed mental state, memories are fragmented and hazy. Would you like to organize the data?]

Uh... yes, please.

[Beginning reconstruction...]

Slowly, the fog in her mind began to clear. The memories of the previous night unfolded like a blooming flower—the demand for a kiss, the shared wine, the heat, and finally... the bite.

As the vivid image of her own lips marking his skin flashed through her mind, Vionette’s face flushed a blinding red. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers.

SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! WHAT THE HELL DID I DO?! Why did I act like that?!

“Is it a snake or something? A venomous one?” Lina pressed closer, her gaze sharpening as she inspected the mark on Noa’s neck.

Noa touched the spot, his expression blank. He felt no pain, only a lingering warmth. He tilted his head in genuine confusion.

Around them, the others were stirring. Seliora stood with a knowing smile; Elina looked just as baffled as Lina; Elan and Lucien shared a silent, wide-eyed look; Kaelen merely shook his head with a weary sigh, while Rose buried her face in her palms.

“Well... it wasn’t a common snake, Lina,” Seliora said, patting the girl’s head with a soft chuckle while her eyes locked onto the flustered Vionette. “This was a bite from a very rare, very possessive species called the White Snake.”

Vionette looked at Seliora, her expression collapsing into a mask of pure, puppy-like embarrassment. She began twirling a lock of her hair nervously, her gaze darting everywhere but at Noa.

Elina and Lina simply tilted their heads, the metaphor flying miles over them.

“Now you’ve really done it, Princess,” Rose muttered.

“You know, Rose... you almost fell on top of me last night,” Kaelen interjected. “That’s how drunk you were.”

“Shut it, Kaelen!”

...What are they talking about—

Suddenly, Noa’s own memories surged back. He had drifted off just before the final claim, but he remembered the kiss, the weight of her body, and the sweet scent of her skin.

He turned his head to look at Vionette, taking in her trembling, red-faced demeanor. Don’t tell me she...

***

The door to Vionette’s office opened as Noa stepped inside. He had changed back into his usual black attire, one hand buried in his pocket while the other lingered on the doorknob.

Before he could even turn around, Vionette kicked the door shut with sudden finality, looking too serious. She was dressed in her usual office attire—tight black pants and a vivid red blouse.

Without a word, Vionette closed the distance, leaning toward his neck with intense scrutiny. Noa didn’t even flinch; he had expected something like this when he entered.

“It’s... it hasn’t faded yet?” She narrowed her crimson eyes, her voice laced with suspicion. “Your regeneration is fast enough to knit a sword wound in minutes. It should have disappeared by now.”

Noa leaned in, his arm sliding around her waist as he rested his forehead against hers, her familiar scent instantly filling his senses.

“I intentionally halted my regeneration on that spot, so it’ll only fade at a natural pace,” he murmured, a teasing smirk dancing on his lips. “Why? Did you mark me just to have it vanish so soon?”

“As I said... I was drunk,” she said, pushing his face away with a playful smile. “But if you’re going to keep it, don’t go showing it around. It’s embarrassing for both of us.”

“So, are we ready to move?” Noa finally let her go, his tone shifting back to the mission at hand. “Where exactly are we going?”

Vionette walked over to her desk, retrieved a leather-bound file, adjusted her glasses, and sat smoothly on the edge of the mahogany surface. She crossed her legs—the movement fluid and authoritative—and slid a document toward him.

“A very interesting location. We need to find information regarding this Fable Mark that Kaelen received, along with a few other things for the future.”

“Right... what is this Fable Mark thingy again?” Noa tilted his head, his confusion genuine. “I just heard the name.”

“You didn’t just hear it, you idiot!” Vionette slammed the paper against the desk. “You were too busy staring at my festival outfit when I explained it to you the first time!”

“I was? Oh well, whatever. You can give me the lecture while we travel.” He stepped into her personal space again, his voice dropping an octave. “But you know... those glasses really suit you.”

“Really now—hey!”

As Vionette leaned forward to playfully tap his head with a pen, Noa suddenly swept her off the desk. Her back stiffened in surprise as he effortlessly shifted her into a bridal carry.

“You were jealous of Seliora getting a ride earlier, weren’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer, leaning in to capture her lips in a sudden, firm kiss. “I’ll carry you all the way to your room so you can pack your things.”

Vionette’s eyes softened. Dipping her head slightly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and tucked her face against his chest.

“Sounds good,” she whispered.

***

Somewhere in the world, deep within a library that seemed to defy the laws of geometry, the floors stretched into an infinite darkness below. Above, glowing magic circles hummed in the air, guiding books from one shelf to another like silent, soaring birds.

In a forgotten corner of the highest floor, a woman stood alone. Her hair was a waterfall of tangled, golden silk, and her eyes were bloodshot from lack of rest.

She turned the pages of a massive tome with frantic, trembling fingers, gnawing on her nails in a fit of manic anxiety. Her eyes darted rapidly across the parchment, scanning the ancient words before she flipped the page with a snap.

“No... not this one either.” She shoved the book back and blindly grabbed another book from the shelf. “Where is it? Goddammit, where is it?!”

This one felt more ancient. Its leather cover was ragged and scarred, pulsing with a faint, malevolent aura that seemed to corrode her skin on contact, though the woman didn’t react. The title etched into the spine was simple:

“...‘The King’?”

The woman cast a paranoid glance over her shoulder, sweeping the endless aisles for eavesdroppers before turning back to the book. She rubbed the grime away, her breath coming in shallow gasps, and opened it to the first page.

“An entity who rose to the top... also known as The Blinded Chaos... King of #*&!... the creator of—”

A sudden, agonizing spike of pain lanced through her skull. She clutched her head, her knees buckling beneath her.

Wh-what did I just say again?

She looked back at the book, but the text was shifting. Blank spaces materialized where the names and titles should have been, as if the very reality of the words was being erased by a higher power.

A sensation of pure malice curled up her spine like a serpent. Her arms began to tremble, nearly dropping the book to the floor. The air around her started to vibrate, the towering shelves groaning as if the space itself feared the knowledge she sought.

“You shouldn’t peek into things you aren't meant to know...” A playful female voice resonated through the colossal library, the sound slowly fading into the echoing silence.

The woman spun around, but the aisles were completely empty. When she looked down at her hands, they were empty, too. The book was gone—plucked from existence as if it had never been there to begin with.

What was that...? she thought. Then, she shook her head fiercely. Forget about it! I need to keep searching. I have to find the thing I came here for!

Through the rubble of forbidden knowledge, she continued her frantic hunt. Her expression was not painted in a single color—it was a chaotic collision of them, bleeding into one another without permission.

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