Transmigrated into Eroge as the Simp, but I Refuse This Fate - Chapter 77

Chapter 77: Changed Man (2)
Then why does Damien seem so… unconcerned?”

A flicker of amusement passed through her gaze as she tapped a finger against her lips. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say he looks… free.”

The word hung in the air like a dagger.

The other girls exchanged glances, the uncertainty deepening in their eyes.

Because that was the exact opposite of how Damien had always looked around Celia.

He had never looked free.

And now, he did.

Lillian hesitated before speaking again, “Celia, are you sure everything is fine? Because… he looks like he doesn’t care anymore.”

That—

That was the one thing Celia refused to accept.

Damien Elford not caring? Impossible.

Unacceptable.

Her jaw tightened for the briefest of moments before she exhaled lightly, forcing a soft laugh. “You girls are overanalyzing,” she said smoothly, tucking a strand of sapphire-blue hair behind her ear.

Celia exhaled softly, regaining her composure as she gave the girls a measured smile.

“You girls really worry too much,” she murmured, shaking her head lightly. “Things are just as they’ve always been. Our engagement is still intact.”

The way she said it—so effortlessly, so matter-of-fact—made them hesitate, as if doubting her words would be absurd.

Celia took the moment of uncertainty and pressed forward, her voice smooth and confident. “Right now, Damien is just acting out. He’s being petty, trying to get attention by pretending to be indifferent.” She tilted her head, letting a hint of amusement color her tone. “But honestly, if anyone should be angry, it’s me, don’t you think?”

That was enough to sway them.

Victoria frowned, nodding. “That’s true… Why is he the one acting like the victim? You’ve put up with him for years.”

Cassandra scoffed. “Exactly! He’s always been a spoiled brat, chasing after you like a dog but never actually changing. The only reason he had fun was because of his money, not because he earned it.”

Lillian snorted, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Yeah, let’s not forget—wasn’t he the same idiot who wasted thousands at those underground clubs?”

“And didn’t he get caught with some low-tier actors at a private party last year?”

“Ugh, yeah. He was so lazy—always whining about wanting respect, but never actually doing anything for it.”

The tension from before began to lift as the girls found their rhythm again, rallying behind Celia’s words.

The Damien Elford they knew was pathetic. A wimpy, desperate fool who had indulged in every vice available to him—drugs, alcohol, nightlife—anything to escape the reality of his own failure.

So what if he lost some weight?

That didn’t change what he was.

Celia felt the conversation shifting back into her control, the balance restoring itself.

But then—

A voice cut through the courtyard.

Smooth. Steady. Amused.

“Funny,” it said.

The air tightened.

Celia’s breath caught.

Because that voice—

That voice belonged to Damien Elford.

The courtyard seemed to freeze.

Slowly, deliberately, Damien Elford stepped forward, his hands still tucked into his pockets. His gaze, cold and sharp, locked onto Celia with an intensity that made her fingers twitch against the fabric of her skirt.

The way he looked at her—without desperation, without longing, without weakness—was… wrong.

Unacceptable.

The other girls, still processing his sudden appearance, turned to him with varying expressions of shock and disbelief.

“What?” Victoria asked, narrowing her eyes. “What’s funny?”

Damien stopped just a few feet away, his smirk slow and deliberate.

“Your stupid fucking face,” he said smoothly. “It’s funny.”

A sharp inhale.

A ripple of silence.

The courtyard, once filled with murmurs about him, now had only the stunned, frozen expressions of Celia’s entourage.

“W-what?” Lillian stammered, her voice breaking in sheer disbelief.

Cassandra’s perfectly polished nails twitched around her clutch. “Did he just—?”

Victoria’s mouth hung slightly open, as if her brain had yet to process the words that had just left his mouth.

Damien… Damien Elford had spoken like that?

To Celia?

To her face?

Celia’s emerald eyes narrowed, a flash of something dark flickering behind them. This wasn’t just a slip of attitude. This wasn’t some weak-willed attempt at rebellion like the Damien of before—who would lash out in the heat of the moment, only to immediately wilt the second she looked at him a certain way.

No.

This was something different.

Something calculated.

Something she didn’t like.

The bastard meant it.

Her fingers clenched into a fist.

“Excuse me?” she said, her voice deceptively smooth.

Damien tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening.

“You heard me,” he said lazily. “Or did your ears stop working along with your common sense?”

The sharp, mocking words hung in the air, thick with challenge.

The shift was undeniable.

The moment the words left his mouth, a heavy silence settled over the courtyard.

Celia didn’t move, her emerald eyes locked onto him, her expression unreadable.

For a moment, the girls beside her—Victoria, Cassandra, Lillian—exchanged stunned glances, their mouths half-open, as if unable to process what had just happened. Damien Elford? Speaking to Celia Everwyn like that?

Victoria opened her mouth, perhaps to say something in Celia’s defense, but before she could—

Celia stepped forward.

And spoke over her.

“Watch your tone, Damien.”

Her voice was smooth, effortlessly controlled, but beneath the surface, it was razor-sharp.

Damien met her gaze.

And in that moment, Celia saw it.

A flicker. Small, but undeniable.

His fingers tensed slightly at his sides. His breath caught just a fraction too long before he exhaled.

And that was all Celia needed.

Her lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

‘Ah. So that’s it.’

He was forcing himself.

This wasn’t real confidence. It wasn’t genuine defiance.

It was an act.

Just like before.

Just like always.

No matter how much weight he had lost, no matter how different he tried to appear, he was still the same Damien underneath. The same fool who would puff out his chest, try to talk back—only to wilt the second she looked at him the right way.

And right now?

She was looking at him exactly the right way.

Celia let out a soft, amused sigh, shaking her head slightly. “Really, Damien?” she murmured, her tone laced with mock disappointment. “This little act of yours… it’s almost cute.”

She took another slow step forward, tilting her head ever so slightly as she regarded him with a calm, patronizing amusement.

“You’ve always been good at putting on a show,” she continued, her voice dropping just slightly, letting only him hear the weight behind her words. “Always pretending, always struggling to prove something—only to collapse the moment reality catches up with you.”

Damien’s jaw tightened, his icy-blue eyes darkening.

A reaction.

Perfect.

Celia smiled, slow and deliberate.

Celia let the silence stretch between them, letting the weight of her words sink in. She had him now—trapped in the same way she always had. No matter what kind of act he put on, no matter how much he had changed physically, his mindset had not evolved. He was still reacting to her, still affected. And that meant he was still beneath her.

She lifted a delicate hand and brushed a loose strand of sapphire-blue hair over her shoulder, her expression shifting into something lighter, almost playful—but beneath it, the sharpness remained.

“Though I have to say,” she mused, her voice smooth, casual, cutting, “I find it a little amusing.”

Damien’s gaze flickered slightly, but he didn’t speak.

She smiled. “Ignoring me all morning, acting as if you don’t see me, walking past me without a single glance… And yet, here you are. Facing me. Talking to me.” She exhaled, shaking her head slightly, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “Tell me, Damien—was this your plan all along?”

Damien’s brows furrowed ever so slightly. “Hmm….What?”

Celia’s eyes gleamed, her amusement deepening. “Oh, you know what I mean,” she murmured. “This little… performance of yours.” She gestured vaguely, as if his entire existence in this moment was an act that she had already seen through. “It’s almost as if you thought that ignoring me would catch my attention. And now that it has, what? You suddenly find your voice?”

Her smile didn’t fade as she took another small, deliberate step toward him. “If this was your new way of getting me to notice you, Damien, then you should know now—it won’t work.”

The words were delivered with precision, soft but merciless.

A clear message—he was still beneath her, still desperate, still trying to gain something he would never have.

A single beat of silence passed.

Then—

“Ahahhaha….”

Damien laughed.

Not a nervous chuckle, not a forced, embarrassed attempt at brushing her off.

A low, amused, genuine laugh.

Celia’s smirk froze.

And for the first time in this conversation—she felt something shift.