NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain - Chapter 85

Chapter 85: Finally, The Fated Meeting! (2)

On the other hand, Reiner—supposedly the calm, sensible one—was talking like a goddamn teenager trying to bullshit his way through a grown-up conversation.

‘Seriously? This guy’s the chosen hero? He sounds like me when I’m pretending I know what the fuck I’m doing.’

Artis rubbed his chin thoughtfully, though his inner monologue was anything but deep.

‘Maybe it’s just his tone. Or maybe he’s secretly as clueless as he looks. Either way, it’s nice to know the guy who’s supposed to save the world has all the gravitas of a drunk frat boy at his first wine tasting.’

And then there was the woman.

‘Ah, yes, Daphne.’

No doubt about it—this was the infamous slave-turned-bodyguard of the elven princess.

A cat warrior with the attitude of an orange tabby: fiery, temperamental, and maddeningly alluring.

She was the kind of woman who could slit your throat one moment and make you beg her to do it again the next.

Artis’s eyes flicked over to her, the way her cloak draped over that curvaceous yet athletic frame.

It was the kind of body sculpted by battle and blessed by the gods—or maybe cursed, depending on how much trouble you liked in your life.

‘Damn, even her posture screams “don’t fuck with me” while also whispering “but maybe you should try.”‘

He leaned back in his chair, playing it cool, casually adjusting his position while sneaking another look. Not too obvious, of course—just enough to take in the view.

Since Artis was damn sure their target was the young master and only the young master, he figured they wouldn’t waste a single brain cell on a “small fry” like him.

Seriously, why would they? If they’d done even the tiniest bit of research—and let’s be real, they probably had—they’d know he was about as important as a wooden spoon at a sword fight.

A guy who was close to the young master but didn’t live in the palace? Outer court resident? Yeah, that screamed “not worth our time” to anyone with half a brain.

From the outside, it probably looked like the young master was tolerating Artis for some vague reason, maybe because he was fun to keep around or made decent drinking company.

Certainly not because he had any actual importance.

And honestly, Artis wasn’t mad about it. Being underestimated was practically his superpower.

A quick side-eye confirmed his theory. The trio of supposed “skilled workers” couldn’t have cared less about him—or Chen, for that matter.

Their laser-focused gazes were glued to the young master, studying his every twitch and smirk like he was the final boss in their tragic little hero’s journey.

Perfect. Artis relaxed a little, fighting the urge to grin. If they were all about the young master, that meant he could sit back, enjoy the show, and maybe—just maybe—use their tunnel vision to his advantage.

‘Let them play chess while I’m over here with a fucking deck of wildcards.’

He glanced to the side, and holy shit on a stick—it really was an hourglass figure! Maybe not as absurdly stacked as Nadia, Juliana, or the matriarch and her daughter, but damn.

The cloak draped over her like some teasing curtain, dipping just enough to highlight her chest before cascading down her back, where it hugged her waist and curved around her ass like it had been personally tailored by a horny tailor with divine precision.

‘What the actual fuck?’

Artis blinked, barely containing his disbelief. That curve was so perfect it looked like it had been sculpted by the gods themselves.

It wasn’t fair. Physics shouldn’t allow something like that. Hell, reality shouldn’t allow something like that.

And then it hit him. Cat-kin have tails. Daphne definitely had a tail in the novel—and it was supposed to be sensitive as hell. So how in the sweet fuck was she hiding it?

He squinted harder, trying not to look like a pervert, but come on, where the fuck was the bulge? If she had a tail, there should at least be some kind of bump or ridge where it started.

But from where he was sitting, all he could see was that cloak dipping seamlessly into her ass cleavage, curving like a runway straight to perfection.

‘Is she stuffing it down her pants? Wrapping it around her waist like a damn belt? Or did this universe just decide, “Fuck logic, we’re here for the fan service”?’

Either way, Artis wasn’t complaining. Well, maybe he was—a little.

‘Wait. Hold the fuck up. Did she actually tuck her tail through her ass cheeks?! Holy fucking shit! This woman!’

Artis almost lost it then and there. The mental image was too much. He could practically hear the tail crying for help, squished and wedged in a place no tail should ever be.

‘Tucking your tail into your butt crack to avoid a visible bulge? That’s some next-level commitment. And for Daphne, the queen of arrogance, to do it? Impressive. Bold. Fucking hilarious. This mission must be life-or-death for her to pull that shit.’

His lips twitched as he fought the urge to burst out laughing. It took all his self-control to keep it together, but inside? He was fucking dying.

‘Yeah, I’m definitely using this later. Tail-wedged-in-the-crack Daphne? Oh, this is gold. Pure gold.’

A sly grin spread across his face as he looked away, pretending to take in the room.

‘But where the hell are the priestess and the princess? Didn’t they say this was an all-hands-on-deck kinda deal? Oh wait, this is a tavern. Right. A fucking seedy, booze-soaked hole in the wall. No way a pristine princess is gonna step foot in here. Too many drunk assholes trying to cop a feel.’

His grin turned into a smirk.

‘A princess as drop-dead gorgeous as her? Yeah, she’s probably at some five-star estate sipping wine and pretending she’s too good for this shit. Typical.’

Artis rolled his eyes, the mental image of Jin ogling the princess already playing out like a tragic comedy in his head.

‘If Jin so much as breathes near her, it’s game over—for her, for him, and for me. Heroes don’t fuck around when it comes to their precious damsels. One wrong move, and it’s chop-chop, heads on a platter. No thank you.’

And the priestess? Yeah, no fucking way she’d come here. This wasn’t exactly a temple of virtue—it was a booze-soaked brothel masquerading as a tavern. Priestesses and prostitutes? Oil and water.

Artis rubbed the bridge of his nose, his thoughts racing. The priestess staying far, far away made total sense.

But then Reiner, bless his stupid fucking heart, opened his mouth.

“Yes, young master. We have heard of your valor from lands afar and it filled us with such a desire to serve under your greatness. To learn from you. We left behind our kingdom, our lives, our everything, just to bask in your glorious light.”

Artis stared, his mouth slightly open. His brain took a moment to process the sheer level of ass-kissing that had just unfolded in front of him.

‘What in the actual fuck did I just hear?’

For the first time since he walked into the room, Artis felt a pang of secondhand embarrassment so strong it nearly killed him.

‘Do I… do I sound like that? Is this what I look like when I’m kissing ass? Holy fucking shit, that’s so cringe!’

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Reiner’s sweet-talking style hit way too close to home.

‘Yeah, okay, maybe I do sugarcoat my words to get what I want, but at least I don’t sound like I’m auditioning for Butler of the Year in some trashy romance novel. Fuck me, is this what self-awareness feels like? It hurts.’

Artis shot Jin a glance to see if he was buying the bullshit. And, of course, Jin looked like a king being serenaded by peasants, basking in every single word.

“Fu fu fu~ Hear that, brother?”

Jin declared, slapping the table with the enthusiasm of a drunk bard at open mic night.

“They came here for me! Naturally, it’s only right they work under me. My name, spreading far and wide, igniting hearts with desire—now that’s the legacy I’m building!”

Jin puffed out his chest like he was announcing his candidacy for the Biggest Ego in the Fucking Universe award. The trio nodded along, practically vibrating with fake reverence.

Artis swore he could hear Galore giggling like a schoolgirl in the corner. It was like watching a group of con artists kiss each other’s asses in a circle.

But Artis wasn’t letting Jin bask in his self-delusion without a little poke.

“Ah, but brother…”

Artis drawled, leaning forward with a shit-eating grin.

“What exactly did they hear about you? You know, out of the countless tales of your greatness… which ones were so compelling they made these esteemed individuals ditch their homes, their kingdoms, their entire fucking lives to serve under you? Aren’t you just a little curious, brother?”

He propped his elbows on the table, tilting his head with a smile so innocent it was practically criminal.

“Because I know I’m curious as fuck.”

The trio stiffened for a fraction of a second, their polished grins faltering just enough for Artis to catch it.

‘Gotcha, bitches.’