Becoming the Guide of the Mysophobic Villain? Absolutely Not! - Chapter 97
Having s-x doesn’t necessarily guarantee imprinting, but the higher the match rate, the higher the likelihood.
So, without taking special measures, even a single act of s-x between Claude and I could lead to imprinting.
Imprinting is like marriage that can’t ever be dissolved—irreversible once done.
I can’t deny that I like Claude. But we haven’t known each other for long, and he has deceived me several times. I still fear and distrust him.
And under these circumstances, of all things.
Claude surely wasn’t the kind of man who might give me the love and affection I had always dreamed of. It’s not just because he was the final villain who caused numerous deaths of the protagonists in the original story.
To me, he’s like a luxury bag worth millions of Korean Won, a target of desire that’s unattainable for someone who has always considered herself ordinary.
It’s not so much an inferiority complex as it just seemed like the natural order of things.
Yet, I ended up coveting him.
Holding onto a perhaps foolish expectation.
He, who gave no one else his time, might willingly give it to me.
The silly laughter, the teasing jokes, the occasional tender looks and touches we shared…
…I thought perhaps I was allowed to experience them because… because he loves me.
So, maybe I’ve unwittingly nurtured some naive fantasy about imprinting with him.
Someday, when I could be certain of his feelings, imprinting wouldn’t be so bad, I thought.
As if we were the only two left in the world, only seeing each other, overwhelmed with the tenderness and love in each other’s gaze and touch.
Without even needing to say it, feeling unmistakably loved.
While hearts might change over time, at least in that moment of imprinting.
But, as usual, fantasy and reality differ.
Rough, frightening, painful.
And to be pushed into imprinting over something as trivial as losing a bet.
It’s more than just sad…
“…….”
Tears welled up in my eyes.
I closed them tightly, trying my best to hold back, but it seems he noticed anyway.
Claude’s hand, which had been moving unreservedly under my clothes, hesitated.
“…Why are you crying.”
“…….”
“Why are you crying, Rose Valentine?”
His voice was as cold as ice, and tears burst forth.
“Mi, miserable…”
I covered my wet face with my hands.
Squeezing my burning throat, I barely managed to reply.
“It’s miserable…”
Silence fell in the room.
Claude didn’t say anything for a while after hearing my response. Only the occasional sound of my sobbing was audible.
Then slowly.
The bodies pressed together separated. He must have sat up.
After a long while, he finally spoke in a dry, hoarse voice.
“…Did you hate me that much?”
What’s he saying now after being so terrifying…
I looked up at him through the gaps in my fingers, and something about Claude’s expression was unsettling.
“Tell me, Rose. Were all the moments we shared so terrible that they were unbearable for you?”
“…….”
“Was I so terrible that it wouldn’t matter if it had been any other Esper?”
Claude seemed almost to be pleading.
Begging me to say it wasn’t so, like he couldn’t bear such a thought, as if making an appeal to me.
It’s weird. So weird.
Objectively, I am the weaker one, and he is overwhelmingly strong compared to me.
Yet here he was, looking so vulnerable and defenseless as if mere words from me could shatter him.
Just seeing his precarious expression was enough to make my heart ache so much that I wanted to forgive and forget everything…
“Is this all an act, too?”
…Yet, I felt a surge of defiance.
At my pointed words, Claude’s eyebrows twitched.
“How truthful have you been with me, Lord Claude? Shouldn’t I be the one who feels betrayed?”
“What are you…?”
“I heard they were all lies! The dangerous missions you were on, the imminent rampage! All fabricated stories to use my guilt to make me guide you voluntarily!”
“…….”
“I really worried about you, but you used me! Investigated me! Threatened my senior!”
Claude clamped his mouth shut at my words, his face showing a touch of panic as if I had hit the nail on the head.
Inside, I was grinding my teeth.
There was no response, but his expression of dismay was enough. Everything Azir had told me was true.
Underneath all of Claude’s actions were hidden intentions.
If he needed guiding, he should have asked me politely, not schemed behind my back. He should have pleaded, expressed his desperation, told me how much he needed me.
But Claude didn’t do that.
Instead, he lied and pretended to be kind to manipulate me, making a fool out of me.
Would I have felt less miserable if he had just threatened me to guide him or die otherwise?
