I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 872: Familiar Yet Different

"I think that one looks very good," Layla said, looking at the pale-gray coat held up before Edward. "Perhaps this should be our final choice."

The coat was elegant without being overly decorated. Its pale-gray fabric gave it a refined, almost regal appearance, while the black shirt beneath created a sharp contrast. Silver details ran along the cuffs and collar, subtle enough not to overwhelm the design.

Layla turned toward Edward.

"What do you think, Honey?"

Edward stared at the coat.

It was one of countless outfits he had tried on that day.

At some point, every coat had begun looking the same to him. Different colors. Different embroidery. Different collars. Different fabrics. Yet all of them felt equally restrictive and equally exhausting.

Still, he liked the color.

He nodded.

"Hm."

Layla brightened.

"Put it aside," she told the staff. "But we may need to look a little more. We need to find the best one for Honey."

"Layla," Edward interrupted quickly, "it is time to look for your dress. Otherwise, we will remain here all night."

Layla blinked.

Then she glanced at the time.

"Right," she said with a sigh. "God, time passed quickly."

(Even for me, it felt like an entire day, Master.)

"I will see how the others are doing," Edward said, turning toward the door. "Take your time here."

Without changing to his former clothes, he just went on wearing the white coat suit he just had tried on.

"Wait, Honey."

Layla hurried after him and caught his arm before he could leave the fitting room.

She walked beside him toward the door, holding onto him with a small smile.

"I want you to choose for me."

"There is no need," Edward replied. "You look good in everything."

Layla giggled softly.

"That is a very old-fashioned compliment, Honey."

"I am serious," Edward said. "And I would prefer to see the dress for the first time on the day of the ceremony."

Layla looked at him.

Then her smile became warmer.

"Oh, my."

She leaned closer.

"Then I will keep it a surprise. Only you will get to unwrap it on the night of the ceremony."

"I cannot wait," Edward replied.

A small smile appeared on his face.

He reached toward the door and opened it.

But before he could step outside, Layla placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned toward him.

Edward turned back to her.

His arm moved around her waist, drawing her closer. He kissed her softly, his lips lingering against hers for a quiet moment.

"Do not get into trouble, Honey," Layla whispered.

Edward looked at her.

"Who do you think I am?"

"God, what a body. Who are you, my lady?"

A man’s voice suddenly echoed from the corridor behind Edward.

The first comment came out low but was unfortunately loud enough for both Edward and Layla to hear.

Layla’s expression remained calm.

But Edward’s changed immediately.

The warmth disappeared from his eyes.

Layla ignored the man.

Instead, she kissed Edward gently on the cheek.

"Do not get into trouble, Honey," she repeated.

Edward gave her a brief nod.

Then he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

He did not immediately turn toward the man.

"You are a lucky one, are you not?" the stranger continued. "I have never seen someone that beautiful so close."

(He is seeking death.)

[Master, he is not worth your time.]

(He looked at Princess Layla with those disgusting eyes.)

[Do not instigate the Master.]

The man, entirely unaware of the quiet discussion happening around Edward, moved closer.

Then he caught sight of Edward’s profile.

He blinked.

"Wait."

His eyes widened.

"I have seen you before..."

The man quickly took out his phone and began searching.

Within seconds, recognition appeared on his face.

"Are you that Utopian King?"

He sounded shocked.

Then, to Edward’s annoyance, the shock turned into excitement.

"Oh, Gods. I cannot believe it. You certainly have had some nerve appearing in Veyra like that."

He raised his phone.

"Anyway, let me take a picture."

Edward did not allow him the chance.

His expression remained emotionless.

The man hesitated when he saw it, but only for a moment.

"You are acting very cocky," he said with a sneer. "But you are only the King of a small country like Utopia. You should behave yourself in Edenis Raphiel you should know."

He stepped closer.

"I am saying it for your own good, King."

(What about now, Brain?)

Brain did not answer.

Even so, Edward remained calm.

At least, until he stopped walking.

A group stood ahead of him in the corridor.

Not far away.

He recognized three of them immediately.

Aurora.

Sylvia.

Jeanne.

Edward’s eyes darkened.

Was this Layla’s doing too?

No.

He doubted she had planned something like this. Layla was mischievous, but even she could not arrange every coincidence surrounding him.

It was simply another coincidence.

He had not expected to see those three until the entrance ceremony.

Yet there they were.

And they had already noticed him.

"Hey, I am speaking to you, idiot—"

The man behind Edward finally lost patience.

He reached toward Edward’s shoulder.

That was enough.

Edward lifted one open hand and stepped aside.

An invisible force caught the man.

The stranger was pulled forward with terrifying speed, as though a giant unseen hand had seized him by the back of the neck.

Before his face could fully strike the tile floor, Edward brought his foot down against the man’s cheek.

The impact was brutal.

A sharp sound echoed through the corridor.

Blood splattered across the pale tiles as the man groaned in pain, several of his front teeth knocked loose from the force.

That was the limit of Edward’s patience.

"Beg," he said.

The man groaned against the floor, his voice distorted by pain.

"Ugh... p-please..."

Edward’s foot remained pressed against his face, pinning him to the tiles. The man could barely move. Pain coursed through his body, and panic had replaced every trace of the arrogance he had shown only moments earlier.

"Beg me," Edward repeated.

"P-Please..."

"Please what?" Edward asked.

The man trembled.

"Please... my King...aghh!!" He said coughing out more blood.

Edward finally raised his foot.

Then, without looking at the man again, he wiped the sole of his shoe against the stranger’s expensive coat before stepping away.

"Um... My Lord?"

The staff member who had been guiding Aurora, Sylvia, and Jeanne forced herself to approach.

Her fear was obvious.

But she could not simply stand by after someone had been beaten in the middle of the private corridor.

Edward did not even turn toward her.

"He started it," he said coldly. "Get him out of my sight."

Then he began walking away.

The woman stared at him.

Only now, as he passed close enough for her to see his silver hair, pale features, and cold eyes, did recognition begin to settle over her.

"The name is Edward Falkrona," Edward added.

He glanced back only slightly.

"King of Utopia."

The last thing Edward wanted was unnecessary trouble.

If this situation became complicated, if the man tried to accuse him of assault or make a scene, then Edward would simply end the matter before it could begin. His position was more than enough to silence any complaint.

The woman’s face turned pale.

"Y—Your Majesy!"

She immediately bowed deeply.

But Edward had already walked past her, his hands tucked into his pockets as though nothing significant had happened.

As his footsteps came closer, Aurora, Sylvia, and Jeanne all tensed despite themselves.

Seeing Edward on television was one thing.

Standing only a few feet away from him was something entirely different.

Only now could they feel his presence properly.

It was frightening.

There was an oppressive weight around him, something cold and distant that made the air itself feel heavier. In that moment, they understood why so many powerful figures on the stage in Veyra had not openly challenged him, had simply watched him instead of trying to force him away.

When he wanted, he could look very intimidating.

Even the two Celesta knights stepped forward instinctively.

They positioned themselves between Edward and the three women, their bodies forming a protective wall as he approached.

Edward did not acknowledge them.

He walked past without slowing down.

He had recognized them.

That much was obvious.

But he said nothing.

Then he continued down the corridor, disappearing beyond the turn toward the elevator.

Only when the sound of his footsteps faded did the pressure in the hallway seem to lessen.

It felt as though they could breathe again.

"A-Aura?" Sylvia asked.

She looked toward her sister.

Aurora had gone silent.

For several seconds, Aurora did not answer.

Then she slowly looked at Sylvia.

"I...did not expect that," she said.

"Neither did I," Sylvia replied.

She hesitated.

"But I thought you would say something."

Aurora had not said anything either.

In truth, no words had come to her. She had been too stunned by Edward’s presence.

And perhaps she was a little offended as well.

He had ignored them.

His eyes had clearly shown recognition. He knew who they were. If he truly was Edward, or even connected to the Edward they had once known, then was it not cold to simply pass by without a word?

"I do not know," Aurora muttered.

She looked back toward the direction Edward had gone.

"Perhaps I should have spoken."

He was the Utopian King now.

Aurora was a princess of Celesta and the future Empress of Arvatra. Even if their past had been complicated, even if he had ignored her first, it did not seem right for her to simply pretend he did not exist.

And deep down, Aurora still wanted answers.

"I do not know if he even knows us," Sylvia said.

Her tone carried a trace of frustration.

"He ignored us."

Aurora said nothing.

"Jeanne," she asked after a moment, noticing that Jeanne had not spoken at all. "Are you alright?"

"Oh..."

Jeanne blinked.

She had been staring at the corridor where Edward had vanished.

Her brow was furrowed.

"I..."

She paused.

"He seemed familiar."

Sylvia gave a small laugh.

"Because you have seen him on television too many times since yesterday."

"No," Jeanne said.

Her voice was quiet.

"I mean..."

She trailed off.

Up close, Edward had looked strangely familiar.

Not because she had seen his face on screens.

Because he reminded her of Nyrel.

His appearance was different. Edward’s hair, eyes, skin, and entire presence were different from Nyrel’s. Yet something about him, the coldness of his gaze, the way he had spoken, the detached manner in which he moved, had reminded Jeanne of the Nyrel she had last seen before being summoned.

The last Nyrel she remembered.

The one she had met at a restaurant a year before she came to this world.

But that was impossible.

Why would Edward Falkrona, the Utopian King, resemble someone from her life on Earth?

Perhaps it was only because she had become involved with Nyrel in the past. The false accusations of stalking, the uncomfortable attention surrounding him, and then the news she had heard later about him losing his parents.

It had been difficult to forget.

And years later, when she had seen him again in that restaurant, he had seemed completely different.

That gaze he had given her then...

It was faintly similar to the one Edward had just shown.

But no.

She was overthinking.

It could not be possible.

For a brief moment, Jeanne considered whether Nyrel might have been reincarnated into this world, much like Eric had somehow come here.

But she immediately pushed the thought away.

It was absurd.

There should be some limits to coincidences right?

Maybe there was a very faint resemblance but that was all.

"Are you going to speak to him or not, Aura?" Sylvia asked.

Her question pulled Jeanne from her thoughts.

Aurora hesitated.

Then she shook her head.

"No."

She looked toward Jeanne.

"Let us focus on what we came here for. We will see him again at the entrance ceremony eventually."

"Honestly," Sylvia said, "he looks completely different from Edward. At least, different from the Edward I remember."

"He does," Aurora agreed. "However, a lot has happened since then."

They began walking again.

The staff member had already called for other employees to take care of the unconscious man lying on the floor. Several workers hurried into the corridor, their faces pale as they saw the condition he was in.

Aurora, Sylvia, and Jeanne all grimaced slightly as they passed.

They did not know exactly what had provoked Edward.

But they remembered how quick and ruthless he had been.

He had not even looked angry while doing it.

That was what made it worse.

And although he looked different from the Edward they had known, he had seemed far more familiar than Amael, the man who had apologized to them, who had spoken calmly, and who had seemed almost like a stranger wearing Edward’s face.

"Are you alright, Aura?" Sylvia asked.

Aurora had become lost in thought again.

"Yes," Aurora replied.

Then she let out a quiet breath.

"I am only confused."

"Likewise, Sister," Sylvia said with a wry smile.

Sylvia had hardly interacted with that version of Edward.

The one she remembered most clearly was the Edward from Aurora and Alfred’s birthday celebration. He had helped her that night. It had not been something that changed her life, but he had still helped when he did not need to.

Sylvia had been grateful.

She had never been able to thank him properly.

But if Edward had changed this much, if he had become so cold that he could pass them without even speaking, perhaps there was no reason to thank him anymore.

Somehow the thought left a bitter feeling in her chest.