I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 424  [Event] [Semester-Exam At Vanadias] [12] Talk With John

"What's going on between you and Earth?" I asked John during our brief lunchtime break. We had been training for hours and it was our little break time. There was still time before we resumed training, and I wanted to address something that had been gnawing at me—John's clear animosity toward Earth.

John glanced up from the small basket of food, his eyes unreadable. After a moment, he resumed eating, chewing in silence before offering a curt response. "Nothing."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You can't lie to me, Johnny."

His shoulders shrugged with indifference. "Whatever. It's got nothing to do with you."

"I wonder about that." I let the words hang in the air. Something about this conversation felt oddly familiar, as if I had been in a situation like this before, but the memory eluded me, hovering just out of reach. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was missing something about John.

John's silence stretched between us. Then, his voice broke through it, his tone gruffer than before. "What about you? What's your issue with him?"

I crossed my arms, leaning back against the rough stone wall. "You've probably figured it out by now," I said, dodging his question with a smirk. "But I'm not saying anything until you do."

John's grip on his fork tightened, the metal threatening to bend under the pressure of his clenched fist. For a long moment, he didn't say a word. Then, with a cold voice, he finally spoke.

"He... in his past life on Earth... killed my sister."

"Huh?" Nôv(el)B\\jnn

I was quite shocked.

I had known Jayce was a scumbag, but to hear that he had been responsible for the death of someone close to John, left me momentarily speechless.

What was the probability anyway?

Jayce—this guy who had caused nothing but pain in his wake—hadn't just ruined lives. He had taken them.

"I see," I said quietly before deciding to be honest as well. "He killed my girlfriend."

John looked at me, his expression barely shifting. If he was surprised by the confession, he hid it well. But I could tell his mind was working, turning over the details, connecting the dots. After a pause, he spoke again, his tone more curious than anything else. "Figured as much. What surprises me is that you actually had a girlfriend back on Earth."

I grimaced at his remark. "And you? I'm pretty sure you never had a girlfriend on Earth. Seems like you were quite the sis-con, huh?"

John's eyes flashed with annoyance at my jab. "Don't start with the sis-con talk, not after what I've seen between you and Elona. And Christina," he added pointedly. He paused for a beat, and then, with an almost casual air, asked, "Did you have anyone else back on Earth?"

His sudden willingness to talk caught me off guard. But I could understand why. Both of us had been reincarnated into this world, and we had lost people who mattered. And in both our cases, it was Jayce who had caused that loss at least for Ephera and Shayna in my case.

Perhaps it was because we both carried wounds from our past lives—wounds inflicted by the same person. That, more than anything, made me feel like we understood each other in a way no one else could.

"On Earth, huh?" I mused aloud, chewing on a crispy chicken chip, my thoughts drifting to Chloe—my unruly little sister. Chloe had always been the complete opposite of Elona. Where Elona was more noble and soft-spoken, Chloe had been wild, tomboyish, and fiercely protective. We bickered constantly, squabbles that could erupt over the smallest of things, but it was never mean-spirited. It was just us—our unique brother-sister bond. Looking back, those moments, even the ones filled with petty arguments, held a warmth I hadn't appreciated enough at the time. In high school, where I was plagued by slight bullying, it had been Chloe who stood up for me. More often than not, she'd jump in, even getting into fights on my behalf. She hated seeing me take the abuse in silence, despised the way I'd avoid conflict at all costs. I was the type to shrink away from confrontation, always choosing the path of least resistance, while she was the storm ready to break the skies open if it meant defending me.

But what could I do? I had learned early in life—thanks to some childhood experiences that were better left forgotten—that speaking out or fighting back only made things worse. So, I stayed quiet. I became someone who avoided attention, avoided trouble. It wasn't the bravest path, but it was how I survived.

Middle school and high school... Those years were a blur of hardships. I didn't really have many fond memories from that time. If anything, they were years I'd rather not think about too much. It wasn't until college that things started to shift. College was different. Ephera, Emric, and the others—my friends—they gave me something I hadn't had in a long time: a chance to breathe, to turn the page on the grief that had consumed me. Losing my parents... losing Chloe... it had nearly broken me, but those years at college helped me find something close to peace. They gave me a reason to move forward, to stop wallowing in the never-ending spiral of mourning.

But even that was taken away from me…

"I guess we're both lucky to have found a new family here..." I said finally, breaking the silence that had settled between John and me.

John's gaze hardened, the light in his eyes turning sharp. "He's mine, Edward," he said.

I raised an eyebrow at his sudden intensity, forked a piece of meat, and brought it to my mouth. "Who's yours?" Amelia popped her head between us, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"Earth," I answered, smirking before John could speak. "Looks like your husband's swinging both ways."

John's face twisted in irritation. "F—Fuck off!" He snapped, hurling his fork toward me with impressive speed.

I dodged the projectile easily, leaning back. The fork flew past me, continuing on its path... until it met its unfortunate target with a dull sound.

"Urgh!" Came a pained grunt from behind us. I glanced over my shoulder and sighed. A poor elf sat there, rubbing the sore spot where the fork had struck. "Always them," I muttered under my breath. Elves, it seemed, were perpetually unlucky in situations like this. But I felt slightly good seeing the scene

[<Racist.>]

"Hm?"

As I turned back, a strange sensation prickled at the back of my neck. Something felt... off. I looked up, my gaze drifting toward the towering walls of the nearby castle. Someone was watching us. I could feel their eyes on us or me?