The Villain Professor's Second Chance

"Are you the one… who killed my father?"

Her eyes were burning—both literally and figuratively. I could feel the weight of Ifrit coiling beneath her skin, its fire simmering just out of view, waiting for her command. Her fists clenched, her body rigid with the intensity of the moment. Elara and Maris were both silent, their gazes flicking between me and Amberine, waiting for my answer.

I stood there, motionless, my pens floating calmly around me. For anyone watching, I might have seemed detached, unaffected by her question. But inside, something shifted. Something deep, something I hadn't felt in years.

A memory stirred.

The question itself didn't shake me—it was how Amberine asked it, how her voice wavered with that raw edge of vulnerability and anger. That's what unlocked something I thought I had buried long ago.

It wasn't me—not the Draven that stood before them now—but a different version of me. The original Draven. The man I had replaced when I entered this body as Dravis Granger, a professor from a world of machines and modernity. I could feel his memories, his emotions, surfacing as if they belonged to me.

And in a way, they did.

It started slowly, like a faint echo from a distant time, but soon I could see it clearly—vivid images and emotions flooding my mind, dragging me into the past.

I was no longer in the chamber, no longer standing before Amberine and her accusing eyes. I was watching another life unfold, the life of the original Draven.

Joel Polime. He was there, standing beside me in a dimly lit laboratory, papers strewn across every surface, shelves lined with ancient tomes and vials of strange concoctions. He was tall, lanky, with a messy shock of brown hair always falling into his eyes. He looked younger back then, full of energy, excitement—an eagerness that matched my own, back when I was still the original Draven.

We were working on something together, a project that could change everything. I felt a rush of enthusiasm as I watched us—Draven and Joel—poring over manuscripts and arcane symbols. I could feel the bond we had shared, built on our mutual love of research and discovery. Joel was my assistant, my partner in unraveling the mysteries of magic.

He was one of the few who could help me through the curse that plagued me, a curse that dulled my intellect, blocking me from fully accessing my own power.

Together, we were unstoppable. Or so I thought.

The scene shifted, and I saw myself—original Draven—laughing with Joel as we celebrated a breakthrough. We had just unlocked the key to a complex spell that would allow us to manipulate the boundaries of dimensions. Joel had been the one to crack the final piece, and I had praised him for it. It was one of the rare times I let myself smile. Back then, I believed in the partnership. I believed in him.

But it was all a lie.

The images flickered, and suddenly, I was standing outside a grand estate, watching as Joel's brother, Robert Polime, strode forward with a wicked grin. Robert was dangerous—volatile and cruel. I had never trusted him. He was nothing like Joel. But it wasn't until that day, the day he killed Kirara, that I realized how deep his malice ran.

Kirara… The memory of her face hit me like a blade. My former fiancée, with her bright eyes and soft laughter. She had been my anchor, my only tether to a life outside of logic and magic. And Robert had taken her from me.

I saw it clearly now, as if I were living it all over again. Kirara's body, lifeless, sprawled across the cobblestones, blood pooling beneath her. I remembered the cold rage that settled in my chest as I looked at her, the way the world seemed to freeze as I made my decision.

But the original Draven had been logical—too logical, perhaps. I hadn't allowed myself to hate Joel for his brother's crime. No, my hatred had been directed solely at Robert. Joel was still my friend, my ally. He couldn't have known what his brother would do. He couldn't have stopped him.

I had convinced myself of that. I had kept Joel close, even after Kirara's death.

But then the scene shifted again, and I found myself standing in a different room. This one was dark, claustrophobic, the walls splattered with blood. And there, in the center, was Joel—his hands shaking, his clothes drenched in crimson. His face was twisted with fury, a rage I had never seen in him before.

I watched, my heart pounding in my chest as the original Draven—the man I had replaced—stepped forward, his expression cold, calculating. His voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"You're a fool, Joel," Draven said, his tone devoid of any warmth. "Did you really think you could face me and win?"

Joel's eyes blazed with hatred, his teeth bared in a snarl. "You think you're untouchable, don't you?" he spat. "You think you can get away with everything. With Kirara's death, with the way you manipulate everyone around you."

Draven's gaze didn't waver. "Robert killed Kirara, not me. Your anger is misplaced."

"Don't you dare," Joel growled, stepping forward, his hands trembling. "Don't you dare pretend like you're innocent. You knew what Robert was capable of, and you let it happen. You did nothing."

"I acted as I saw fit," Draven replied, his voice cold as ice. "Justice was delivered to Robert. But you? You're throwing your life away for nothing."

Joel's eyes burned with fury, and for a moment, I saw something break inside him. "You don't understand, Draven. You never did. All your talk of logic, of control—it's all just a mask. You're just as broken as the rest of us. You're just too much of a coward to admit it."

Draven's expression didn't change, but I could feel the tension building beneath the surface. "You're blinded by emotion, Joel. It's clouded your judgment. You're making a mistake."

"A mistake?" Joel laughed bitterly, his voice cracking with the weight of his grief and rage. "The only mistake I made was trusting you. You think you're some kind of god, untouchable, but you're not. I'm going to make sure the world knows what you really are—a monster hiding behind a mask of intellect."

Draven's eyes narrowed. "And what, exactly, do you think you can do about it?"

Joel raised his hands, his fingers twitching as raw magic crackled between them. "I'll stop you. I'll bring justice to Kirara. To everyone you've hurt."

Draven's voice was calm, almost detached. "You're not strong enough, Joel. You never were."

The tension in the room snapped as Joel unleashed a torrent of magic, wild and uncontrolled. It surged toward Draven, a chaotic storm of energy fueled by nothing but pure emotion. But Draven didn't move. He didn't flinch. His pens hovered around him, and with a flick of his hand, they responded.

In an instant, the magic was deflected, scattered like dust in the wind.

Joel staggered, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried again, and again, to strike Draven down. But every spell was met with the same cold precision, the same effortless control.

"You're weak, Joel," Draven said quietly, his voice cutting through the chaos. "And now, you've lost everything."

Joel fell to his knees, his body trembling with the weight of his failure. Blood dripped from his hands, staining the floor beneath him. "I won't stop," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desperation. "I'll find a way… I'll find a way to make you pay."

Draven watched him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "There's no justice in what you're doing, Joel. There's only destruction. You've become the very thing you sought to destroy."

And then, without another word, Draven raised his hand, and the pens moved in unison.

Darkness filled the room.

The memory faded, and I was back in the present, standing before Amberine. Her eyes, still burning with fury and hurt, were locked onto mine, demanding an answer.

I then remember, the scene of me and Sophie after the goblin king subjugation.

Yes.

I've decided this path.

And the original Draven agreed with the path that I've chosen.

And it seems that this world also agreed to it.

As the quest, an unexpected quest appeared. It's easy, but I could feel the consequence

It's such a weird one. I got the skill [The Villain's Fate] that rewarded me everytime I completely removed the potential of me dying from someone.

But this time.

It's as if the system, the world, it telling me to die.

But it's fine. Go on.

I will never die.

[Quest: Admit as The Killer of Joel Polime

Reward: +1 Store Currency +300 mana]

I smiled looking at the store currency reward.

It's exactly what I needed.

I could feel the weight of the original Draven's memories pressing down on me, the cold logic that had guided him through every decision, every action.

I met Amberine's gaze, my own voice calm and unwavering as I finally spoke.

"Yes," I said, my tone steady. "I killed your father."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final, and the world seemed to hold its breath as Amberine's eyes widened, her body trembling with the impact of the truth.