Never Die Villain

One day, Ilya would lose one of the few advantages he still had left.

Knowing how the academy plot was supposed to unfold.

No, that day was actually quite close. Once the events he vaguely remembered from the novel had finally passed, there would be nothing for him to rely on, and whatever happened afterward would be completely unknown to him.

That was partly why Ilya had chosen this particular establishment tonight. He had managed to kill two birds with one stone: repay Vera for everything she had done for him with a rather expensive meal and, more importantly...

"...Belozersky?"

"Ah, Professor Antoine?"

...To observe Professor Antoine.

To be completely honest, Ilya hadn’t made it particularly far into the novel before finding himself in this world.

He had finished what he considered the first major event involving Helene, the Crimson Flower, and had only gotten halfway through what was most likely the second major event before he stopped reading.

And that second event seemed to revolve around Professor Antoine.

Ilya didn’t know exactly what was going to happen, nor how badly the situation would eventually spiral out of control.

He hadn’t reached that part of the story, and what little he knew came from the Chapters leading up to it.

Still, one thing had been obvious from the narrative. Professor Antoine was at the center of whatever was coming next.

With the world now missing its protagonist, Ilya wasn’t confident he could stop whatever was coming, but he could at least make sure someone would be there to stand against Antoine if the professor really was at the center of it.

Ilya had just finished washing his hands when Professor Antoine stepped out of one of the stalls and approached the sink beside him. Ilya shifted aside to give him some room, and the professor glanced at him through the mirror before turning on the faucet.

"What a coincidence, Belozersky." Professor Antoine began washing his hands. "I assume you’re quite confident about tomorrow’s test if you have enough time to be playing around tonight?"

"Uh... test?"

Professor Antoine looked at him. "Did I not announce it?"

"No, sir. I don’t recall you mentioning anything about a test."

"Huh." Antoine frowned for a moment before shrugging. "Must’ve been another class. Well, good for you. Now you know in advance, so you have the entire week to study."

"Ah, yes..."

Professor Antoine finished washing his hands and reached for a towel, apparently completely unconcerned that he had just accidentally given Ilya a week’s advance warning. After drying his hands, he tossed the towel aside and gave Ilya a small nod.

"Well, I suppose I shouldn’t keep you from your dinner any longer. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Belozersky, and don’t forget what I just told you."

"I won’t, sir. Have a good evening."

Professor Antoine rounded the corner, and Ilya followed shortly afterward.

Before the professor could return to his table, however, a young girl who looked to be around ten or eleven approached him and naturally took his hand, making it obvious enough that they were family even before Antoine introduced her.

He leaned down and whispered something into her ear. The girl glanced toward Ilya, then immediately released her father’s hand and approached him.

"Good evening, Sir Ilya Belozersky. It’s an honor to meet you."

Her tone was far more formal than Ilya had expected from someone her age.

"Yes, good evening?"

Inside Holy Trinity Academy, he was simply another student, and Professor Antoine was unquestionably his superior, but outside its walls, their positions were somewhat different.

Whatever reputation Ilya might have within his own family, he was still the son of Grand Duke Belozersky, and Professor Antoine seemed to have reminded his daughter of exactly that.

"This is my daughter," Antoine explained. "I thought it would be rude for her not to greet you when we’re standing this close."

"Ah. There’s really no need to be so formal with me, sir."

"There absolutely is." Antoine glanced toward his daughter. "I’m still responsible for teaching her proper etiquette, and letting her walk past a member of the Grand Ducal Family without so much as a greeting would hardly qualify."

"I suppose so."

The three exchanged a few more words before Antoine finally bid Ilya farewell and returned to his table.

Not long afterward, the professor and his daughter finished their meal, and Ilya watched from his seat as the two left the establishment together, the little girl holding her father’s hand as they disappeared through the entrance.

"...."

Ilya’s gaze remained on the door.

He wasn’t even certain whether Professor Antoine would become a Distortion later in the novel. He hadn’t read far enough to know exactly what happened.

Still, if Antoine really did become a Distortion, Ilya couldn’t help wondering whether that little girl had something to do with it.

Helene had become a Distortion. Aleksei had become a Distortion. And in both cases, there had been something behind it.

The circumstances were different, but there was enough of a pattern for Ilya to stop treating Distortions as something that simply happened without reason.

If Professor Antoine really was next, then something was going to happen to him.

"...."

...Or perhaps, to someone he cared about.

* * *

"I’ll walk you home, Senior."

"Walk?" Vera glanced at him as though he’d suggested they travel across the capital on horseback. "I’m getting a carriage. Go home before your sister starts freaking out again."

The two stepped out of the restaurant and into the cold evening air. The streets were still busy despite the hour, with carriages passing along the road and people moving between the establishments that remained open throughout the night.

Ilya pulled out his cigarette pack.

"Still, I can wait until your carriage arrives."

"How gentlemanly." Vera glanced at him as he lit his cigarette. "Did your father acknowledging you suddenly turn you into a proper young nobleman?"

"Are you going to keep bringing that up?"

"For as long as it continues bothering you."

"Then probably forever."

Vera laughed and reached toward him, casually taking the cigarette from between his lips before smoking it herself. Ilya watched her for a moment before sighing and pulling another one from the pack.

"You could ask."

"Why? You always have more."

"One day, I’m going to stop carrying cigarettes just because you keep stealing them."

Ilya lit another cigarette.

They waited near the roadside as Vera looked for an available carriage. For a while, neither of them said much, content to smoke under the lights shimmering from the surrounding shops.

Eventually, Vera glanced at him.

"So, how was your first day?"

"In the Magic Department?"

"What else?"

Ilya thought about it for a moment.

He had been stared at by half his class, nearly blown up a lecture hall, somehow ended up surrounded by girls, joined a group of complete strangers, learned something unexpectedly useful about Niflheim, reconciled with Elise, and finished the day buying Vera an expensive dinner.

"Not bad."

"And how’s your training going?"

"...Training."

Ilya looked ahead.

The Whiteout had only gotten worse since his return from the North.

What had once been an occasional numbness in his fingertips had progressed to the point where he could hardly get through the day without wearing gloves, and even now, with both hands tucked inside his coat pockets, he could still feel that familiar cold in his skin.

"It’s alright, I guess."

"Hm."

Vera didn’t press him any further. She already knew enough about his condition to understand what he meant, and Ilya wasn’t particularly interested in discussing the details while they were standing in the middle of the street.

A carriage finally slowed near the curb, and Vera raised a hand to signal the driver.

Once it stopped, she opened the door, but instead of climbing inside herself, she suddenly grabbed Ilya by the arm and pulled him toward it.

"Eh? Senior?"

"Get in."

"What about you?"

"I have somewhere I need to stop by first." Vera pushed him inside before he could say anything, then leaned against the open doorway. "You can take this one home."

Before Ilya could argue, Vera handed the driver several coins and gave him the address of the Belozersky residence in the capital. Ilya leaned toward the open door and looked at her suspiciously, wondering what could possibly require her attention this late at night.

"Where are you going?"

"None of your business."

"That sounds suspicious."

"Good. Stay curious."

"Senior."

"What?" Vera raised an eyebrow. "Worried about me? You should worry about yourself first."

Before Ilya could ask what she meant, Vera reached toward his head and suddenly plucked out a strand of his hair.

"Ow. What was that for?"

Rather than answering, Vera held the strand between her fingers and raised it where he could see.

Ilya’s eyes widened.

"Ah..."

The strand was white.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Ilya reached toward his hair, but Vera simply let the white strand fall from her fingers before giving him a look that made it clear she wasn’t interested in hearing whatever excuse he might come up with.

"Go home and rest."

"...Alright."

Vera reached for the carriage door, but just before she could close it, Ilya called out to her.

"Good night, Senior."

Vera paused with one hand still resting against the door.

"Hm." She looked at him for a moment before her lips curled into a grin. "Yeah. Good night."

The door closed, and a few seconds later, the carriage began moving. Vera remained by the roadside and watched until it disappeared into the evening traffic, then slipped her hands into her coat pockets and started walking in the opposite direction.

She didn’t head home.

Vera wandered through the surrounding streets without any obvious destination, occasionally stopping at a shop window or changing direction at an intersection.

She repeated the same thing several times, gradually moving away from the busier parts of the district until the crowds thinned and the streets became quieter.

Eventually, she turned into a narrow alleyway.

Vera continued several steps before stopping.

"Huh." She glanced over her shoulder. "So I really was the target."

There was no response.

She had first noticed them three days ago.

At the time, Vera hadn’t thought much of it, but the same unfamiliar presences had continued appearing wherever she went, always keeping enough distance that most people wouldn’t have noticed anything unusual.

That was partly why she had sent Ilya home alone tonight.

She had spent the past hour confirming that whoever was following her was interested in her specifically, and now that Ilya was safely on his way home, there was no longer any reason to keep pretending she hadn’t noticed them.

Movement echoed from behind her.

"How fucking annoying."

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!