I Became The Novel's Biggest Antagonist

Beneath the mansion Patrick Cromwell had acquired exclusively for Ivan, silence lingered, broken only by the rhythmic sound of flesh being cut.

Gin and Gorn stood motionless, their faces twisted in shock but also with morbid fascination at the scene unfolding before them.

Before them, a young man with white hair worked with a meticulous precision that defied his apparent age. His face was obscured by a surgical mask, and though his youthful appearance suggested inexperience, the intensity in his eyes and the confidence in his movements told a different story.

Wearing sterile surgical gloves, his hands moved deftly, wielding a scalpel with the expertise of a seasoned professional. For over an hour, he had been engrossed in his work.

The lifeless form on the rectangular table belonged to Davon Crook. Once a bandit of some significance, Davon was no longer present in any meaningful sense. His head was split open, exposing his brain yet his body was technically 'not dead' in the strictest biological sense, the essence of Davon Crook had ceased to exist.

Another ten minutes passed before the young man paused, his phone vibrating on the nearby counter.

Stripping off his left glove, he glanced at the screen.

It was King's phone.

[Still okay for tonight?]
Stay tuned for updates on empire

The message was from Celine.

A flicker of emotion crossed his otherwise stoic face, though he remained silent. Setting the scalpel down, he removed the other glove and turned his attention to Gorn.

"I'll need Urvan to complete your vessel," he said. "Until then, keep the body refrigerated at the proper temperature."

"Yes, sir," Gin replied hesitantly before gathering the courage to ask, "And you are...?"

They only followed Adam because they were told it was their James aka Lord Astaroth's for them order. From their point of view, Adam was someone working for James but they couldn't be sure either.

"You don't need to know," Adam replied curtly, already walking away.

Ordinarily, he would have stayed to finish preparing the body, ensuring everything was in place for Urvan. But the presence of King within him was insisting. A gentleman did not keep a woman waiting after all, and tonight, Celine was expecting him.

With that thought, he left the sterile underground, his mind already shifting to the evening ahead.

Thankfully he wasn't the one who had to participate in the dinner. Only God would imagine what a date with Adam might look like but that would be for later…

***

Celine's nerves were on edge.

She had dined with people before, but tonight was different—a romantic dinner, just her and a man. The thought alone had her pacing nervously in front of the mirror.

Her reflection stared back, and she scrutinized every detail. She had purchased a new dress for the occasion: a sleek, black V-neck dress that hugged her figure and ended just above her knees. It was elegant yet daring, revealing her long legs and highlighting her curves in a way that felt unfamiliar—and slightly uncomfortable.

"I hope he likes it…" She muttered, smoothing the fabric nervously.

The dress had cost her a small fortune—two gold coins, a significant expense for a receptionist at the guild. She had emptied her savings, but she justified it as a treat for herself, a gesture to mark the special occasion.

Her ensemble didn't stop there. She had paired the dress with a matching handbag and a pair of black heels, each costing another gold coin. It was extravagant, but tonight, Celine wanted to feel beautiful, even if it meant stretching her modest budget.

With a final glance in the mirror and a deep breath to steady her nerves, she grabbed her bag and left her apartment.

Her home was a modest flat on the outskirts of Ocryphia. It wasn't in the city's opulent center, where the wealthiest residents resided, but it was comfortable enough for her needs. At the entrance, a car was already waiting.

Inside sat Cecil, who had kindly offered her a ride. Though King had volunteered, Celine had turned him down, her embarrassment outweighing her desire for convenience. Starting the evening by being picked up by him felt overwhelming, and she wasn't sure her nerves could take it.

Cecil had insisted, citing her concern about Celine traveling alone at night. Ocryphia wasn't entirely safe, especially not in certain neighborhoods—and certainly not for someone dressed as beautifully as Celine.

As Celine approached, Cecil stepped out and opened the passenger door with a warm smile. "You look stunning, Sherilyn."

Celine blushed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Ah… thank you." She slid into the car, gratefully.

Cecil started the engine, sparing her a sidelong glance as the car eased into motion. "You're too good for him, you know that, right?"

Celine stiffened, turning toward her friend with a frown. "Mrs. Cecil, please don't be rude to Mr. King."

Cecil chuckled before teasing her. "Don't tell me you've already fallen head over heels for him?"

"T–That's not it…" Celine stuttered, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink.

Cecil sighed, her exasperation tinged with amusement. "He must be something special to leave you this flustered. Where are you planning to have the diner?"

"Um… Mr. King mentioned a restaurant called 'White Fragrance,'" Celine replied hesitantly.

Cecil's hands paused on the steering wheel, her brow furrowing slightly. "White Fragrance, you say…"

Internally, Cecil was stunned. White Fragrance was no ordinary dining spot; it was the crown jewel of Ocryphia—a 7-star hotel restaurant catering exclusively to the city's elite and obscenely wealthy. She hadn't expected King to be this well-off. Was he truly that rich, or was he recklessly splurging his savings just to impress Celine?

"Sherilyn," Cecil said after a moment.

"Yes?"

Cecil cast her a sidelong glance, her expression unusually serious. "I understand you like him, but let me give you some advice. Don't mention anything about your origins tonight. Not a word."

Celine's face clouded, her hands tightening in her lap. "...I understand."

The rest of the drive was quiet, save for the low hum of the car's engine. After half an hour, they finally arrived at their destination.

As the car rolled to a stop in front of the restaurant, Celine's heart skipped a beat. The building towered above them like a shimmering palace, every inch of it exuding opulence. Bathed in soft, glowing white lights, the grand structure resembled a small castle more than a simple dining establishment.

"Um… Cecil?" Celine's voice wavered, her nerves fraying at the sight of the lavish surroundings.

Cecil grinned, clearly amused by her friend's panic. "Relax, Sherilyn. It looks like King really pulled out all the stops to impress you."

She stepped out of the car and circled around to open Celine's door, offering a steadying hand. "Come on, you've got this."

Celine accepted the help reluctantly, her heels clicking softly against the polished pavement as Cecil led her toward the entrance. Towering guards flanked the doorway.

To her immense relief, the guards didn't stop them or ask questions.

Inside, Cecil approached the receptionist's desk with Celine trailing behind like a shadow. "Good evening," Cecil said with a polite smile. "My friend here has a dinner reservation under the name King."

The receptionist, a young woman with a warm, professional demeanor, checked her list and nodded. "Of course. Please follow me."

Cecil turned to Celine, giving her a gentle push forward. "Have a wonderful dinner," she said with a wink, waving as she turned to leave.

Celine swallowed hard, her nerves building as she followed the receptionist down a grand corridor that opened into an expansive hall.

The dining area was breathtaking. Vast and adorned with glittering chandeliers, the room was filled with elegantly dressed couples seated at pristine tables. The clink of fine silverware and the hum of quiet, refined conversation filled the air. At a glance, it was obvious—every patron here was a high noble or someone of immense wealth.

Celine felt entirely out of place. Her fingers gripped the strap of her handbag tightly, and she kept her gaze low, afraid to meet the eyes of anyone around her.

The receptionist led her to a secluded table for two near the edge of the room. With a small gesture, she removed a reservation card with King's name embossed in elegant script. "Please make yourself comfortable," the woman said with a smile before walking away.

As Celine sat down, she realized King hadn't arrived yet. A glance at the ornate clock hanging on the far wall reassured her that she wasn't late; she had simply arrived early.

"Look at her."

"Is she really a peasant?"

"She has to be. You can just feel it."

"Absolutely. But what's a commoner doing here? Why aren't the guards throwing her out?"

The whispers floated around Celine like a swarm of gnats, biting at her confidence. The sharp, judgmental voices belonged to the women seated nearby—high-ranking ladies of Ocryphia.

Their appearances radiated wealth and privilege. The shoes they wore were worth no less than ten gold coins apiece, their gowns even more exorbitantly priced. Celine, by comparison, stood out not because of her beauty—though she was stunning—but because of her quiet nervousness and lack of polish. She couldn't hide the fact that she had never set foot in a place like this before, and the women seized on it with jealous mockery.

Celine clenched her fists tightly in her lap, her nails pressing into her palms as she lowered her gaze to the table. Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the words, but their cruel laughter seemed to grow louder in her mind.

The moment she feared was unfolding exactly as she had imagined. Her presence here was a glaring anomaly, and it was becoming harder by the second to hold herself together.

"Excuse me, sir, but masks aren't permitted here."

"Hm? Are you certain?"

The familiar tone of that deep, confident voice made Celine's head snap up instantly.

It was King.

He had finally arrived.