How to Survive as the Horror Game Villain's Fake Fiancée - Chapter 9
…But contrary to her intentions, Cynthia’s feet wouldn’t budge.
Startled, Cynthia flinched. It really was as if both her legs had turned to stone—she couldn’t move at all. Just then, a new message appeared.
It was a set of choices.
1- Wake him with a kiss. Smooch! 2- Kick the sofa to knock him over. 3- Take advantage of his sleep to strangle him.
“Ha…”
A curse welled up from the pit of her stomach.
If only her hands would move, Cynthia felt like she’d want to cover her face and cry.
But if she didn’t pick one of these, she’d be stuck here as a living statue forever, so with resignation, she calmly examined the choices.
Option 3 was pointless.
Even in the game, no matter how many times the protagonist attacked him, it was impossible to kill the villain by physical means. No matter if his head was cut off or his entire body burned, the villain would simply reappear, unharmed.
That left options 2 and 1, but she couldn’t even tell which would be the less painful way to die. If she chose 1, she might lose her lips. If she chose 2, it felt like she’d lose a leg.
‘I’m actually going crazy.’
Still, option 1 was the only one that even remotely showed any positive intent.
Cynthia let out another sigh and, in her heart, chose option 1.
Immediately, all the choices disappeared.
And Cynthia’s body began to move on its own.
Swaying, she nearly toppled forward, but managed to catch herself with both hands on the backrest of the sofa. At least this prevented her from face-butting the villain—whose specialty was butchering people—right in the face.
But the forced movement didn’t stop there. As if someone else was controlling her, Cynthia’s body let go of the backrest and slowly bent forward.
‘Even now… he’s so handsome. Unreal.’
“Huu…”
A sigh tinged with both tension and admiration escaped her lips.
The closer she got, the more unrealistically beautiful the villain’s face appeared.
In the game, he was just depicted as a pixel sprite, and even though the illustration was semi-realistic, it was still just a drawing, so it hadn’t really felt real. But now, he was truly an incredible beauty. His overall refined facial contours and sharply defined features were elegant, but with an undercurrent of coldness.
Beneath the long hair that draped over his neck, the ties on his white poet shirt were undone, exposing the line of his long neck, sculpted collarbones, and broad, muscular chest. As she lowered her head, Cynthia shamelessly admired those beautiful muscles.
She might lose her life after kissing him, but decided to treat it as a last supper. Everything about this man seemed carefully crafted to be pleasing to the eye.
Even his eyes, the color of blood.
“…Huh?”
Looking closely, she realized his eyes were open.
Cynthia froze. After staring at her for a while, he slowly closed his eyelids. Caught between fear, embarrassment, and sheer disbelief, Cynthia was at a loss.
‘Don’t tell me he’s just pretending to be asleep?’
But perhaps because she hadn’t yet fulfilled the choice’s action—
Cynthia’s face, which had been approaching slowly, suddenly sped up, her head dropping abruptly as her lips landed on the man’s cheek. Then she lightly sucked on it.
Smooooch.
It was a much longer sound than the ‘smooch’ the option had described, and only after that did Cynthia regain control of her body. But she still couldn’t turn and run away immediately.
As soon as Cynthia’s lips left his cheek, the villain opened his eyes and, in a movement far too smooth for someone who’d just been sleeping, sat up straight.
Without even yawning, he pushed aside his tousled hair with one hand and looked at her.
But beyond that, he did nothing…
He just stared quietly at Cynthia, with a slightly irritable gaze.
