The Novel’s Antagonist: I walk the path of a Villain - Chapter 72

Chapter 72: A stange situation….?

Sigh.

It was already late as I approached my door. I grasped the handle, and with a quick twist, it opened to reveal my… barely habitable room.

But…

Something wasn’t right.

“Nelia?” I asked, my gaze landing on the beautiful woman seated by the bunk. She was folding some clothes into my suitcase, her lips curling into a strange smile as she glanced up at me.

“…Yes?” she replied, her tone calm yet laced with something that made me uneasy.

“What are you… doing?” I asked cautiously. She placed the last piece of clothing she’d been folding into the suitcase, slid it aside, and began approaching me. Her steps were slow, deliberate—sensual, even. It was as though her allure had been magnified to an unprecedented level.

Was… was she always this hot?

“Well, when I got here, your room was a mess,” she said with a nonchalant shrug. “So I decided to tidy it up.”

I stood there, taking in her movements. I’m six foot one, and she’s about five foot seven—a considerable difference in height—but there was something about her demeanor that made me instinctively take a step back.

“So… someone ransacked my room?” I asked, frowning.

“…Probably,” she replied with a casual air.

“Nelia,” I said seriously, narrowing my eyes, “who?”

Instead of answering, she surged forward, and before I knew it, I was…

Pinned against the wall!

“What the hell are you on, Nelia?!” I snapped, struggling to push her off me. She was unnaturally strong—stronger than I’d expected, even for a fairy. Wasn’t she supposed to be weakened?

“Heh,” she grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes that sent a shiver down my spine.

“I think it’s about time I got even,” she said, her voice low and dangerous.

This was so unbelievably weird. No matter how many times it happened, I just couldn’t get used to it.

Is this what weak guys suffer in this world? Constant wall-slamming and embarrassing antics from girls you’re taller than?

“Let go, Nelia,” I commanded, attempting to use the power of the Heart of the World Tree like I always did. But instead of retreating like she normally would, I suddenly found myself shoved onto the lower bunk of my bed.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” She shook her head, placing a finger against my lips. “We can’t have that…” she murmured, climbing on top of me and straddling my waist.

Her hips pressed down, and I could feel the weight of her sitting directly on my lap. But something wasn’t right.

I couldn’t move.

I literally couldn’t move a single muscle.

“There’s something else about the soul bond I didn’t mention,” she said, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “It nullifies the slave-master dynamic we had. Our souls are now partially fused.”

‘Damn it,’ I thought, gritting my teeth in frustration. So this was it—I’d lost my control over her.

“Why can’t I move?” I finally asked, the one question burning in my mind.

“Well… I can’t have you taking control at some point,” she said, her grin widening as she leaned in closer. “I want to be the one in total control. To watch you beg me for it.”

“Nelia, are you high?” I asked incredulously, because seriously, what the hell?!

“Probably,” she shrugged nonchalantly, leaning closer to cup my face, her expression an unsettling mix of amusement and desire.

“Listen to me, Ryan, and listen well,” she said, her tone firm yet oddly tender. “You are the most handsome person I have ever laid my eyes on in my entire life. Even if you might not be the most handsome young man in the world, you surpass most elves I’ve seen… by far.” She looked intently into my eyes, as though she wanted to etch her words into my very soul.

“I—” I tried to speak, but she placed a slender finger on my lips, silencing me.

“Just shut up and listen, you annoying idiot,” she snapped, leaving me speechless. “I don’t care what that fucking girlfriend of yours said to brainwash you. I don’t care how she did it. What I want to make crystal clear is this: even in your past life, you were never ‘average.’ And how dense of an idiot can you possibly be?!” She slapped me across the face.

… Welp.

At this point, I had no idea what to say anymore.

She grabbed my collar tightly, pulling me so close that her piercing emerald eyes were all I could see. “All those girls who approached you, blushing like fools—what did you think made them act that way?! Why would any of them waste their breath on an ‘average loner’?! Why would your bitchy ex-girlfriend—who was a bitch, by the way—get interested in you in the first place?!” she yelled.

Okay, ouch. That stung a bit.

“Enough of this ‘dense-as-a-black-hole’ idiot act!” she shouted. “Even Lucas—the guy who’s supposed to be clueless—acts better than you! He knows he’s only a little good-looking, and he’s fully utilizing it to his advantage! Meanwhile, you casually seduce girls with that annoyingly handsome face of yours and then have the audacity to say, ‘Why are they looking at me like that?’ Do you know how much I want to slap you every time you say that?!”

Her frustration was palpable, and I winced at her outburst.

“YOU ALREADY FUCKING DID!” I yelled, trying to pry her hands off my collar, but my body refused to cooperate.

Pa!

Another slap.

“Stop slapping me, woman!” I was both frustrated and thoroughly embarrassed.

Who told me to get a slave?!

“Shut up, you idiot!” she retorted. “This is only the beginning! I’m not leaving until I get my fill of all the frustration, temptation, and, let’s not forget, torments you’ve put me through!”

Her hands moved to unbutton my shirt, and a deranged smile spread across her face.

As much as I wanted to deny it, a part of me was… anticipating the outcome.

“At least undo whatever you did. I can’t move, and it’s killing me,” I groaned. She intentionally ground her supple hips against me, her grin widening as I struggled.

It was like staring at a feast after fasting for a week—only to find myself chained and unable to touch it.

“No, no, no,” she said, shaking her head, her grin maddeningly mischievous. “You once told me that a slave’s fantasy needs tools. Well, you misunderstood. A slave’s ultimate fantasy isn’t just being ‘punished.’ Sure, that’s part of it. But the real fantasy? It’s tying their master up… and making them the slave.”

Her grin grew more wicked, and I silently prayed.

‘Please, don’t r*pe me…’

….

First [R-18] chap next. I want powerstones, golden tickets, and comments!

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