[BL] Transmigrated as the Villain CEO's Mermaid Secretary

Lilianna gripped her hair tightly, and sweat clung to her temples. Her chest heaved as if she had actually fought that battle with her own two hands instead of through a virtual game.

ROUND 1 WINNER: NEVILLE.

The word floated in front of her closed eyelids in pulsing red, refusing to fade.

I lost.

Lilianna slammed her fist against the control panel. She felt the pain, which only made her even angrier; her knuckles ached.

She wanted something to thrash, crack, or wreck, but she was still in the virtual world. It would only reload the mess back into its place. No permanent damage could be made.

"AARRRRGGGHHH!!!"

’Stupid. What’s the point of lashing out now? You already lost.’

The voice in her head said, pouring cold water on her anger.

Lilianna froze as she remembered that this voice had made her experience that unexplainable pain.

’You stupid woman. What are you going to do now that you lost? Cry? As if that could solve our problem. Imagine the faces of your friends, laughing at your incompetence.’

"I — I did everything I could." Lilianna’s whisper came out hoarse, her lips barely moved.

To anyone watching the loading screen from the outside, they would’ve only seen a model resting her head against the pod’s headrest, eyes half-lidded, looking faintly bored.

"I fired at him, but he was just too fast. He’s just unbelievably fast. I had never fought someone that fast before—"

’You and your excuses. He moves fast because he can. But what did you do? Use your brain!’

"I— I did what was normally done in those kinds of situations! I did not do anything wrong!"

’Are you sure? Because if you knew that something was not working, you should’ve done something else instead. But what did you do?’

"I did what I could! You also know it. You also told me what to do. Surely, you take half the blame in this game!"

’Blaming me now?’ Then the voice sighed, ’I thought I could use you, but it seems like I can’t.’

"Wha-What do you—"

A spike of pain shot from the base of her neck to the crown of her head.

"A-acckkk! N-nn-ccckk"

Lilianna’s vision whited out for a second. Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip so hard, but no virtual blood was seen.

When her sight returned, stats of the mecha swam in front of her and then steadied.

"B-but it’s true! I follow your plans," she managed to say while gasping for air, her voice cracked at the edges.

"—I did all of it. He’s not — he’s the one who’s not normal! What kind of—"

’Kind of what? Newbie? That’s a goddamn newbie, so you should’ve won! Don’t make excuses!’

Lilianna didn’t have words for it because she knew what the voice in her head said was true. Her cheeks burned as she thought of Grayson, who was watching this game with their friends.

’Are you ashamed now?’ the voice in her head said in disdain, ’All of your friends should’ve seen that, including your beloved Grayson. What are you going to do now?’

"Shut up." Lilianna snapped and shouted.

The pain came again, sharper this time, lancing from temple to temple.

Lilianna gasped and curled forward, her forehead nearly touching her knees. Her hands clamped over her ears as if that could possibly help, as if the voice were coming from outside.

’Watch the language, lady. I am the only reason why you can still think clearly. If I weren’t here, what would Grayson have said if you just slapped and beaten Neville half dead just because he doesn’t deserve Grayson?’

"I know," she whimpered. "I know, I know, I’m sorry —"

’So now, listen to me very carefully.’

The pain eased a little, just enough that she could lift her head.

’The second round will load anytime now. You will fight him in whatever map the system rolls, and you will win.’

"What if —"

’If you lose one more time—’

The voice stopped for a second, letting Lilianna feel the gravity of the situation.

"If I lose, what will happen?"

The pain returned, much more painful than the last. It clamped down on the back of her skull and squeezed.

Lilianna’s mouth couldn’t help but fall open in a silent scream, and stars exploded across her vision.

Then, outside, the pod’s vital monitor began to beep an alert.

The voice in her head seemed to have sensed that alert triggered in the virtual pod and whispered threateningly:

’If you lose one more time, you will lose your life.’

Soon after it said that, the pain was gone like it wasn’t there before.

Lilianna slumped against the control panel. Her breath came in ragged, hitching sobs.

The vital monitor’s beeping faded back into the green zone.

The game notification appeared after.

ROUND 2 — LOADING — 00:00:30

Lilianna didn’t have time to think. She didn’t have time to question how she would lose your life.

All she knew, with the bone-deep certainty, was that she couldn’t afford to lose again.

Lilianna wiped her face with the back of her wrist.

ROUND 2 — LOADING — 00:00:10

"I’ll win," she whispered, "I’ll win, I’ll win, I’ll —"

ROUND 2 — START.

The transition wasn’t supposed to happen this fast.

Neville’s reaper-class mecha came online with a sluggish demeanor. He thought he could still talk with Lilianna in the waiting room, but he was suddenly thrown into a brand-new battlefield with no warning.

His hands twitched on the controls.

The system feed chimed in his ear, polite and indifferent.

MAP — CITY (DAYLIGHT).

CIVILIAN PRESENCE — ACTIVE.

PROPERTY DAMAGE METRICS — ACTIVE.

"Right away?" Neville muttered out loud.

His mecha’s HUD blinked through its boot-up sequence.

Joint pressure, blade temperature, plasma reserves, sling-shot, three throwing daggers locked into their forearm magnets, light handgun at the hip with three magazines, twin plasma blades crossed at the small of the mecha’s back.

Neville flexed his fingers, and his mecha rolled its shoulders. The silver-traced charcoal plating catches the simulated morning sun.

Beneath his mecha’s feet was the city of the second map. It unfurled like a textbook example of every interstellar metropolis Neville had ever seen in a brochure.

Glass towers. Sky bridges. Anti-grav skylanes humming with simulated commuter traffic.

Below, at street level, simulated pedestrians moved in patterned crowds — businessmen with briefcases, kids with school bags, an old man feeding pigeons in a plaza.

There were even pigeons.

Who, with a loose screw in their head, programmed a pigeon into a combat simulation?

A bead of cold sweat ran down Neville’s face.

Civilian presence — active.

It meant that every plasma blast that strayed from his intended target, every wing-thruster wash that scorched the side of a building, every chunk of architecture that came loose under impact — all of it would be tallied.

Property damage on one column.

Civilian casualties, on the other hand.

And whoever finished the round with the lower numbers won, even if the other pilot’s mecha was still standing.

Smart but brutal. Designed to weed out the trigger-happy idiots.

It also happened to be the absolute worst possible map for Lilianna’s mecha, which carried a great sword the size of a starship.

Neville almost smiled.

Almost.

Because at that exact moment, the radar pinged a contact six hundred meters east-southeast, twenty meters above street level, and rising.

[WARNING - Projectile Missile]

A whine of charging capacitors split the air. The simulated pigeons in the plaza below quickly scattered into the sky in a panicked white cloud.

Neville’s eyes widened. "Oh, you’ve got to be —"

FWOOM. FWOOM. FWOOM.

Three beam columns punched out of the haze between the skyscrapers. A long, lazy, unforgiving rays of light from Lilianna’s mecha’s twin wing-cannons and one of its forearm beam launchers.

It wasn’t directly aimed at him, but aimed at where he had been standing.

Neville’s mecha threw itself sideways. It sprinted across a rooftop, plate scales rippling, and the beam columns carved through the building where the reaper had stood.

The skyscraper screamed with a long, low, structural groan as glass burst outward in shimmering sheets. The upper twenty floors began to lean. It was slow at first, then faster, then down.

KRAKAKRAA-AAAAA-OOOOM.

The collapse hit the plaza, and the simulated old man with his pigeons vanished under a wave of dust and debris. The dust column rose three hundred meters in less than two seconds, blooming outward.

A small, brisk counter ticked up at the corner of Neville’s HUD.

[PROPERTY DAMAGE — PRETTIESTLILY +1,400 / NEVILLE +0]

[CIVILIAN CASUALTIES — PRETTIESTLILY +37 / NEVILLE +0]

Neville stared at the number.

In two seconds, from three beam shots, thirty-seven simulated people were gone.

"Oh my," he said softly, and a slow, slow smile started to creep onto his face. "Did Miss Lilianna forget to read the map briefing?"

Clearly, she didn’t because the numbers said it all.

Lilianna’s mecha was already pivoting in mid-air, wing-cannons charging again. The readout on her targeting solution didn’t seem to be including any of the civilian-density overlays that the map was actively broadcasting on the open channel.

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