Young Master's PoV: Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day - Chapter 117

Chapter 117: Highest Treason [I]

There was a moment of silence.

Utter, suffocating silence.

The High Priest raised himself up to his knees and stared at me, his face frozen in horror.

His lips trembled, forming words he couldn’t quite say.

Then, at last, the denial came.

He shook his head vehemently. His hands clawed at his robe. His voice rose in a frantic murmur.

“No… No, that can’t be! You’re lying… You’re lying!” He cried out. “The Overlord wouldn’t be fooled so easily! I wouldn’t be fooled so easily! This— This is wrong! This can’t be happening!”

He gasped as if trying to breathe through a nightmare. His fingers twitched, curling into fists, then uncurling just as fast.

“I can’t… I can’t be done in by a child… A fucking child!”

His scream echoed through the bloodstained chamber. His pupils shrank as his mind broke under the weight of it all.

It was a classic breakdown of a man who understood his fate was sealed but refused to believe it.

Then, suddenly, his gaze snapped to me. There was a deranged look in his eyes.

“You—” His tone was a mix between fury and pleading. “What do you want? Money? Power? Fame? Women? I’ll give you everything! I’ll give you everything you could ever want!”

His hands stretched toward me, trembling. “Just let me live. Work with me! I can make you rich beyond your wildest dreams. I can make you great—”

I laughed softly.

It was the kind of laugh that made it clear I wasn’t even considering his offer.

“Old man,” I said, amusedly tilting my head. “I don’t think you understand. I already told you, I don’t want anything from you. You’re useless to me.”

The High Priest’s breath hitched.

His eyes darted around the room — at the corpses, the blood-slicked floor, the severed limbs.

His lips parted, but no words came out. His throat worked uselessly, like a fish gasping for air.

Then his face twisted.

Desperation curdled into rage.

“You little shit!” he cursed. “What are you after?! Why?! Why are you doing this?! Who sent you?! Huh? Who are you working for?!”

I smirked. “I don’t work for anyone. And it’s nothing personal. I’m not after you. I’m after the treasure you’ve been hoarding here in this very bunker.”

As soon as I said that, the High Priest’s jaw dropped.

His fingers twitched. And for a second, I could see his mind go blank — his entire thought process grinding to a halt.

Then, after a few seconds, he swallowed thickly.

“H-How do you know about that…? No, wait—” His voice faltered. “How did you even know about this safe house?!”

I didn’t answer.

After all, I couldn’t just tell him that I knew everything from a game.

In one of the storylines of Spirit Realm Chronicles, Michael discovered the High Priest’s hideout by accident and found a literal treasure room beneath it.

But, being the goody-two-shoes he was, he handed everything over to the Academy officials.

I wasn’t as honest as him.

Everything I had done in Ishtara — the schemes, the misdirections, the carefully laid traps — had all been in order to acquire that treasure.

That was my endgame.

The High Priest licked his lips, then extended his hands in a placating gesture. “Fine! Take it! Take everything you want! You don’t have to kill me for it!”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “That’s not possible.”

His eyes narrowed as he screamed again. “Why not?!”

“Because,” I said calmly, “you’ll die tonight for your sins.”

His expression changed — first came confusion, then disbelief, then something dark and ugly. “My… sins?”

I nodded. “You were an accomplice to the Overlord. Together, you slaughtered countless innocent people. And tonight, you unleashed your abominations in the city. Hundreds are already dead, and the number is still rising.”

Bowden’s jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists.

Then, he laughed bitterly. “You… You think you’re some kind of hero?”

I said nothing.

“What do you even know about the world, boy?” he barked. “There are forces at play here! You’re messing with the wrong people if you so much as lay a finger on me!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at this fool.

“Oh, I know more than you think, High Priest.” I said evenly. “I know you work for the Nameless Lords.”

And the moment I said those words, his eyes bulged and shock flashed across his wrinkled face. But then — just as quickly — it twisted into confusion.

“Y-You know about the Syndicate of the Nameless Lords?” he stammered.

“Yes,” I scoffed. “I know they were the ones who funded you. Who gave you resources, scientists, and Spirit Beasts to experiment on. This was their plan from the beginning. You and the Overlord? You might not know, but you both were just small pieces on their big board.”

Yes, in truth, it wasn’t the Overlord or the High Priest who wanted control over the Spirit Beasts.

It was the Syndicate.

They needed a place to conduct their experiments in secret, far from the oppressive influence of the five Monarchs.

And there was only one such place in the world.

It was a region where even the Monarchs couldn’t interfere or send their vassals since they were all bound by a treaty.

A neutral zone known as Kandara. Or more specifically, its capital city — Ishtara.

Even the Central Monarch herself, who was the ruler of this region, couldn’t set foot here without risking a world war.

So the Syndicate seized the opportunity.

They approached the High Priest and the Overlord of Ishtara with a deal they couldn’t refuse.

The Syndicate offered them power in exchange for overseeing their experiments.

They made a promise that once the experiments were complete, the Overlord and the High Priest would have an army of Spirit Beasts — monsters only they could control.

Then, after overthrowing the Central Monarch’s rule, they would be crowned kings of Kandara.

And like the short-sighted greedy fools they were, Lord Everan and High Priest Bowden accepted that deal without hesitation.

They swore their loyalty to the Syndicate.

But in reality, they were never more than puppets.

When the experiments were done, the Overlord and the High Priest unleashed their Spirit Beasts into the city. Ishtara burned. Thousands died.

And when the dust settled, the High Priest stood before the world and blamed the Central Monarch for being unable to defend her subjects.

Kandara turned its back on the Monarchs and declared itself a free nation.

The High Priest ruled as its king… until one of the Syndicate’s assassins disposed of him.

Wars broke out between the Monarchs once again to claim Ishtara under their rule, exactly as the Syndicate had planned.

They had orchestrated everything from behind the curtains. And by the time the world realized it, it was already too late.

“But then why?! If you know the Syndicate is backing me and how dangerous they are, then why the hell are you crossing them?!” Bowden pointed a shaking finger at me. “You should be working with us!”

I clicked my tongue and sneered. Whatever amicability had been on my face was gone, replaced by disgust.

I looked at the fat old man before me the way one might look at filth.

“The Syndicate are traitors to humanity,” I said, my voice cold. “They seek to wake up the Spirit King and kneel before him. They think humanity is doomed, so they want to surrender our fate to a powerful deity like him. But of course, you wouldn’t know that.”

I shook my head. “You wouldn’t even know who the Spirit King is. I’m not the ignorant one here, High Priest — you are.”

Bowden frowned as the first hint of genuine confusion crossed his face. “The… Spirit King? Wh-Who? What the hell are you talking about?”

“You don’t need to know,” I said simply. “You don’t need to know anything — except that you betrayed your own kind by siding with the Syndicate.”

I took a step forward. “You slaughtered so many people. And for what? For power? For greed? For the promise of your own little kingdom?”

I clicked my tongue again. “You’re pathetic.”

My words were dripping with venom when I spit them out next, “There is nothing more deplorable than a creature who betrays their own species. You did that. You committed the highest form of treason. And for that, you’ll die.”

I pointed the gun I had snatched from him earlier at his face and got ready to shoot.

Bowden, still stunned by my words, shook himself out of his daze and began pleading in a panic.

“No, wait, wait, wait! We can talk about this! I made a mistake, okay? You can’t kill me! It’s against the law! Let the police arrest me! I have rights to a proper trial!”

But when he saw I wasn’t listening, the fear in his eyes burned into rage once again.

“Fuck you! You aren’t so different from me! You talk like you’re above it all, but you’re just as greedy! If you really knew everything, you could’ve reported it to your Academy from the start! Instead, you let us kill each other so you could swoop in, take out the last survivor, and steal the treasure, didn’t you? You let so many people die just so you could walk away with something in your hands!”

A smile tugged at my lips.

“Wow. I’m impressed you figured out my plan after I spelled it out for you.” I chuckled. “You’re right, though. You and I aren’t so different. Indirectly or directly, we’ve both killed for power. The difference is, I’ll use mine to ensure humanity’s survival. I may not be a hero, but I’m not a villain either.”

I tilted my head. “Or maybe I am. Who knows?”

I let the words hang between us before continuing. “Anyway, since I’m impressed by your ability to detect the obvious, how about I cut you a deal?”

A flicker of suspicion crossed his face. “…A deal?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “One of the lockers in the treasure room below is locked with a special seal, right? No one can open it without the key in your possession. I want that key.”

In the game, Michael never took anything from that treasure room. He handed over everything he found to the Academy officials — except for a single relic.

An enchanted artifact.

A weapon.

A soulbound greatsword that could split into dual longswords, which could then transform into a bow.

Yes, it was a weapon with three forms. But that wasn’t what made it special.

What made that artifact special was its self-imposed condition — whenever its wielder’s life was in mortal danger, its lethality would increase a hundredfold.

Because of that enchantment, Michael was able to survive countless near-death encounters in the story.

That weapon was called the Divine Sword Aurieth.

Unfortunately, it was locked inside a special box that couldn’t be opened without a unique key.

Well, a [B-rank] Awakened could break it open.

Michael did the same. Using his Demonic Sword, he was able to cut the locker open.

I had no such luxury. Neither I was a [B-rank] Awakened yet, nor did I have a mythical sword on me.

So, I needed the key.

Bowden’s lips curled in a sneer. “And I suppose you’ll still kill me after I give it to you?”

“Yes.” I nodded.

He clenched his jaw. “Then why the fuck would I give you anything? Go ahead, kill me. I’ll see you in hell.”

My smile widened. “Oh, not so fast, old man.”

I took a few steps back and stopped beside the young man I had pinned to the ground earlier.

The sword was still lodged in his shoulder, holding him in place. He grunted, struggling to break free, but the pain kept him down.

When he noticed me beside him, his eyes widened, and his struggle intensified.

I pointed the gun at him and grinned. “If you don’t give me what I want… I’ll kill him.”

Bowden sucked in a sharp breath, but he forced out a laugh. “Go ahead. Kill him. He’s nothing but a pawn.”

The boy’s body went rigid. He tried to put on a brave face, but I could see the fear in his eyes.

I smirked. “Good to know.”

Then, I pulled the trigger.

A single shot rang out.

“ARGHHH!” The boy howled as the bullet tore through his leg. His back arched and body convulsed in seething agony.

Bowden’s eyes twitched. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

I sighed and fired again.

Another shot. Another scream.

The boy’s voice cracked. He clawed at the ground as his skin turned pale and his lips trembled. Blood pooled beneath him as he writhed uncontrollably.

Bowden flinched.

I knelt beside the boy, pressed the barrel against his other leg, and cocked the hammer.

“Last chance, Bowden,” I threatened. “Give me the key. I’ll open the locker one way or another, but if you comply, I wouldn’t kill the boy. This is my deal.”

The boy let out a choked sob. His screams had faded into broken whimpers, his breath shallow and uneven. His body quivered feverishly.

I fired another shot, causing him to cry out in pain again. Tears rolled down his cheeks as his eyes closed and he fell unconscious.

I pointed the gun toward his heart, actually ready to kill him.

Bowden’s fists clenched.

His eyes were full of conflict as his gaze flickered between me and the boy. His lips parted, but he didn’t speak.

He tried to push himself up, he tried to stand on his feet, but his body failed him. He crumpled back to the ground and started crawling toward us.

I was about to press the trigger.

Then—

“Stop!” he shouted in desperation. “Stop! Just stop! I’ll… give it to you! Just stop.”

I smiled. “Good choice.”

His hands shook as he reached into his leather bag, fumbling until he pulled out a small, ornate key.

His fingers tightened around the key as he hesitated. But alas, with a heavy breath, he extended it toward me.

I walked up to him and plucked it from his trembling grip. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Bowden exhaled sharply as his shoulders slumped. He looked at the bleeding boy one last time, then glared back at me.

“You’re a monster,” he loathed.

I hummed. “As you said, I’ll see you in hell.”

Before he could say another word, I pulled the trigger.

A single shot.

A clean hole through his forehead.

His eyes went blank. His body swayed.

Then, with a dull thud, he collapsed onto the bloodstained floor.

Silence filled the bunker once more.

My plan was complete.