YOUNG MASTER'S POV: WOKE UP AS A VILLAIN IN A GAME ONE DAY

The Archive Island was as big as a small city.

It was built in the shape of a dome. Its surface gleamed with interwoven veins of spirit-forged metal and enchanted glass.

At a distance, it looked less like a library and more like a celestial observatory.

Like a monument to knowledge standing at the edge of the sky.

Calling it beautiful would be an understatement.

The airbus landed at the edge of the Island and we disembarked it.

The entrance to the Archives was as grand as one would expect of a place holding so much knowledge it would take an ordinary person more than three lifetimes to go through it all.

Twin obsidian gates towered over us. Their dark surface was engraved with shimmering silver runes, shining as brightly as stars in the night sky.

Four Awakened were standing guard there. They asked for our identity, we gave it, and they permitted us entry in under a few minutes.

We passed through the gates into a massive archway and saw something etched onto its ceiling in a foreign language.

It read: ‘Alfi ‘alam fi nafas wahid. Mala’in al-hayat fi khutwa wahida.’

Michael, who was even more awestruck by all the grandeur, frowned while walking beside me.

He pointed up with his chin and asked, “What does that mean?”

I shrugged. “If my translation is correct, then – A thousand worlds in a single breath. A million lives in a single step.”

“That… sounds poetic,” Michael commented. “What language is that?”

“Arabic,” I answered. “One of the Old World’s languages from which the current Southern tongue, Sahnli, is derived.”

“And how do you know that?” He asked with a frown.

I rolled my shoulders again. “I studied it as an elective in high school.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were interested in Southern culture,” he said.

“I’m not,” I shook my head. “Some of the girls in that class were just really hot.”

Michael shot me a glare. “Weren’t you with Lily in high school?”

I threw my hands up. “Hey, don’t accuse me of anything. I just flirted here and there, and didn’t actually cheat. Unlike a certain someone.”

Michael scowled. “Flirting while in a relationship is emotional cheating, you immoral bastard.”

I scoffed loudly. “Haa! Sounds exactly like something a cheater would say.”

“What?!” Michael’s scowl deepened. “I wasn’t even the one who did it?”

“You were an accomplice,” I pointed out. “And that makes you just as bad.”

Michael’s mouth opened and closed a few times, struggling to come up with words. Then, “Well, you were a bully! That makes you like a hundred times worse!”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Okay, Michael, you know what? I never even touched you until you kissed my girlfriend. So, whatever I did to you after that, you brought it upon yourself.”

Michael smirked like he had finally cornered me. “You’re right. You never bullied me yourself until that day. But you were an accomplice. And as I’ve recently come to realize, that makes you just as bad.”

“….” I blinked.

Okay, damn.

For the first time in a while, I didn’t have a retort ready to fire back at him.

So, and I’m not proud of it, I resorted to cursing him.

“Shut the fuck up, you loser,” I laughed. “Your face looks like a burnt turkey someone forgot to throw out!”

“Wha- huh? I– What?! Is that supposed to be an insult?”

“No. Why would I need to insult someone whose whole existence is already a joke.”

“Okay, what the fuck–?”

Unluckily, before our verbal scuffle could turn physical, a sharp voice cut through our banter.

“You two! Enough! This place is a library. Keep your voices down.”

We flinched and looked up. Apparently, we had reached the front counter and hadn’t noticed.

The archivist sitting behind the counter had to yell at us to end our back and forth.

He was a jacked man in his early twenties, tall with a chiseled face and more muscles than enthusiasm about his job.

But as soon as his gaze landed on me, his stern face softened, then suddenly brightened up.

“Oh, look! If it isn’t the golden boy himself!” he chirped with an unmistakable expression of joy.

I furrowed my brows slightly. “Do I know you?”

Suddenly, the look of joy froze on the man’s face, his mouth left hanging open. After a short pause, he said, “You don’t remember? I didn’t know my face was this forgettable…”

I quickly waved my hands. “No, no. It’s not you. It’s me. I have the memory of a goldfish.”

That seemed to give him some relief as he said, “Well, you met me during the Evaluation Exam. I gave you your orb belt and you claimed you never lost a fight.”

My frown hardened.

Huh, that did sound like something I would boast about myself.

And now that I gave him another look, he did seem familiar. He was one of the first faculty members I met.

“Ah, yes. Now I recall,” I nodded.

“Right,” he smiled widely and officially introduced himself. “I’m Damian Noname.”

Oh? A Noname?

Bastards or nobility who weren’t acknowledged and adopted by their families were given this last name.

They weren’t accepted in aristocratic society.

They were also not fully accepted among commoners.

As such, they belonged nowhere.

And they were called Nonames.

Of course, their situation was different if they were Awakened.

Because Hunters were accepted everywhere, irrespective of their background and personal history. They were modern-day celebrities.

Heroes.

And from the looks of it, this guy was a strong Hunter.

I nodded.

“Well, you already know me,” I said before gesturing toward the protagonist accompanying me. “And this dimwit here is Michael Godswill.”

Michael clenched his jaw, clearly biting back a retort, while Damian chuckled.

“Oh, I know both of you. What your Squad pulled off in Isthara is being talked about all over the world. The Academy is still figuring out how to reward you,” he said, before turning to me with an amused glint in his eyes. “Especially you, Samael — you’ve been making headlines nonstop these past few months. Get ready for a thorough Q&A at tomorrow’s press conference.”

I was about to brush off his comment with a polite smile when something he said hit me like a slap to the face.

Tomorrow’s press conference?

What press conference?!

I snapped my head toward Michael. “What the hell is he talking about?”

Michael gave me a flat look. “You haven’t heard? The Academy is awarding us medals of bravery and a hefty sum of Credits tomorrow. Maybe even something else. They’re holding a press conference in our honor.”

I stared at him, waiting for the punchline. When none came, I exhaled sharply. “And no one thought to tell me?”

Michael shrugged. “Figured you knew. It’s been the talk of the Academy for days. Also, we received a text from the Academy on our communicators.”

I groaned. “Ahh, I see. I have the Academy’s account blocked.”

Both Damian and Michael practically dropped their jaws and exclaimed in unison, “What?!”

I sighed. “They send too many spam messages. Like why am I not attending classes and all that.”

“Dude,” Damian laughed. “I’m in the faculty and even I’m not gutsy enough to do that. Pray no Instructors find out about it.”

Ignoring him, I turned back to Michael. “Who’s going to be there?”

“One of the Venerables, a few high-ranking officials, and some big-name Hunters and sponsors. And the press, obviously.” He gave me a sideways glance. “It’s a big deal. So, try not to look like you want to kill someone on stage.”

I grunted, running a hand down my face.

The press was going to have a field day with this. I could already guess they were going to take a dig at my past.

Those vultures were always hunting for drama – if they couldn’t find any, they’d create it.

And when it came to me, they had a thousand different ways to poke and prod, all in the hopes of getting a reaction.

I didn’t have a very clean history, after all. My reputation was as muddy as a back alley gutter after a downpour.

The last thing I needed was to stand in front of flashing cameras and deal with annoying reporters while the Academy paraded me around like a prized show dog.

A medal and some Credits were nice, but not at the cost of a public spectacle.

Maybe I’d just skip it.

“Oh, and don’t even think about skipping it,” Damian said as if reading my mind. “The last Cadet who tried that never heard the end of it from the Venerables.”

I clicked my tongue. “Damn it.”

Damian just laughed at my expense. “Anyway, how can I help? What books are you guys looking for?”

•••

The Apex Archives.

Aside from being the size of a small city, it was built like one too.

Past the front counter, wide streets branched out into different sections of the library.

These streets were flanked by tall, square-shaped structures. Their walls, lined with shelves, cradled countless books and tomes.

These buildings were called reading rooms. You could pluck a book straight from their walls and step inside to read in silence.

But this was just the outer district.

As we ventured deeper, the scenery changed.

We saw towering spires of enchanted glass and darkstone, housing rarer texts and ancient scriptures.

Further still, nestled in the heart of this city of knowledge, were the restricted vaults — sealed chambers accessible only to either one of the Aces or graduates.

And all of this was only the first floor!

Oh, yeah. There were multiple floors.

Scattered stairways here and there or spires could be used to ascend to the upper levels, where even more texts, memory stones, and who-knew-what-else were stored.

If there was one problem, it was that this place was very dark.

There were some streetlamps placed along the streets that softly illuminated the surroundings. Yet, it was as dark as night here.

We had to carry our own torches to see properly.

Regardless, I had to admit — this place was impressive.

But I wasn’t here for books. Not primarily, at least.

I had two tasks to complete.

And first, I needed to find the Key of Order.

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