I Will Create a Good Ending for the Yandere Villainess

Chapter 481: Lillian’s Past? [2 - END]



Chapter 481: Lillian’s Past? [2 - END]



$100,000.


That was the price they told us to convince them to continue the treatment of my mother. Was it not against the Hippocratic oath to do injustice against them? Was this not ten times more than the original cost!?


"Your mother’s condition had reached a point where it would be more optional to let her go... I’ve already checked your family records, and the amount of money you are spending will only cause you to have a bad life in the future. It’s best if you call your father here and go in together to say your last goodbyes to your mother."


All I could do was grit my teeth and glare at the doctor. What gave him the audacity to tell me this? Were these really the doctors I was admiring in the past?


What they said was true. The amount of money my father and I have been putting into this was far more than they could make back... Their debt to the bank was far more than they could have hoped.


But...


"Fine... At the end of this month right? I’ll get the money. I’ll get the money and shove it in your face, you damn vampires..."


She couldn’t give up on her mother, not when she had sacrificed so much for her...


After putting on a sterilised suit and entering my mother’s room, I clutched her hand and promised from the bottom of my heart.


"I promise I’ll get the money for you... Please wait, mum. Me and dad will find a way, I promise..."


My mother was weak, but I knew she had heard me, given the way she smiled. She heard and promised, she acknowledged my promise... And yet, in the end...


I failed her.


No matter how many jobs I took, I couldn’t earn enough. No matter which bank I went to, they refused my request for a loan, after checking with the past banks I had been to.


This was the same for my father.


We could only watch from the insides of our sterilised suits as they pulled the plug on my mother. And as I looked down at my mother, who moved her lips weakly...


I read:


"I’m... disappointed in... you..."


Although the way my mother’s lips moved was hard to read, I still managed to decipher it. And... It was something that had stuck with me ever since.


I... I knew she would hate me for not upholding my promise, but... to say it to my face...


...


After using whatever money we had scrounged for my mother’s treatment to pay off the due bills for the rented building, we grieved together. The worst part was that no one showed up to my mother’s funeral.


I knew my other family members didn’t want to associate with us, but... Why? Even when someone had passed away? Was it not common courtesy to come and pay some level of respect for the dead?!


As time went on, I began to find beer bottles scattered throughout my home whenever I returned from work or school. The state I saw my father in left me heartbroken; he had become an alcoholic after my mother passed away.


Because of the state that my father was in, it was up to me to do everything around the house.


Cleaning, cooking, working. Whatever I could do, I tried my hardest; this led to whatever time I had for myself for leisure or to study disappearing, with only sleep being my only moment of rest.


Because of that, my mood hit an all-time low. The next time I was bullied in school, I lashed out, leading to their hospitalisation.


Due to that, I was suspended for a few days, not expelled, since it was self-defence, but still...


When my father heard the news of her suspension, he lashed out at me, drunk and half-conscious about the world around him.


Why... Why was he lashing out at me? It’s his fault. He was the reason for this.


He may be grieving, but so am I, yet—why am I the one needing to do everything myself? Why can’t he lessen some of my burdens too!?


...


"Please... Please focus on your studies from now on. Leave anything outside of that to me."


One day, my father approached and begged me on his knees. I wasn’t sure what had happened. I remembered he had gone out for something, but never told me.


But whatever it was, it seemed to have caused my father to stop drinking entirely—he had even found work.


I was glad, joyful even, after so long.


Once I was let back into school, I pushed all of my attention to studying like he asked, scoring top marks and fixing my horrible grades. I had even tried to socialise a bit, which... It was rather difficult at first, but I soon got the hang of it!


I even managed to pull together all of my courage to ask someone out! Although... I did get rejected in the end... But that was fine! It was much easier to handle compared to my mother!


And unlike that time, I felt like I was moving forward, especially when I was given money by my school to pay for college—wasn’t this a scholarship?!


Everything was going in the right direction! I felt like nothing could go wrong.


I now had the money to go to college, my father had a promotion at an office company he was working for, and all of our rent payments had been on time.


Things were looking up!


...


But when I returned home to tell my father about the scholarship, I found him lying still on the ground.


It was his day off, something he usually spent on the couch watching a sport.


Of all places, why was he lying still on the kitchen floor?


...


When the ambulance arrived and took him away, I learned that my father was suffering from a severe case of liver failure. He was hiding this from me...


I looked around my home and found a hidden stash of alcohol... He hadn’t given up drinking like I thought, and because of his decisions, he had passed away... Leaving me all alone by myself...


How could I not have known? Why’d it take me so long to find out?!


...


I had always been alone, but why... Why did this feeling of loneliness feel much more painful and cold?


"Why... Why did you two have to leave me all alone...?"


I cried... And cried for several days straight until I lost my own voice.


...


I spent the scholarship on myself to forget the pain I felt—to forget the loneliness I felt. I knew it was a dumb decision, but... I just couldn’t move on from that.


I invested in alcohol like my father to drink away my sorrows. I invested in cigarettes, but threw them away due to the smell them. Luckily, I was still in a state of mind where I was responsible enough not to purchase narcotics.


The thought of ending my life had appeared more than once in my mind, but... I could never go through it. I’m not sure why, but I felt as though I should wait a little longer.


Waiting for what exactly? I wasn’t sure...


But eventually, I ran out of money.


Having used up the money that would’ve been for my further education, I looked for a place to work and managed to land at the company where my father used to work before he...


Well, let’s say that after acquiring that job, I managed to make some steady income at the cost of my mental health. But it wasn’t like I was healthy in that department anyway...


"ARGH! THIS BITCH, SHE KILLED ME AGAIN!"


"Huh...?"


I was now 23 years old—it had been seven years since life took a sharp turn.


During one random evening, one of my coworkers suddenly screamed in frustration. At first, I wanted to ignore it and get on with my work, but... The glimpse of a digital woman with black hair and red eyes caught my attention.


Marionette Von Roselle was the name my coworker called her. Apparently, she was some major villainess in a viral game going around.


I wanted to scold them for playing games during work hours, but the more I eavesdropped on my coworker, the more inclined I was to know more about this character.


Marionette Von Roselle... Marionette Von Roselle...


An assassin that belonged to a powerful noble family that ruled over a quarter of the Underworld and was trained since birth—a character from a game called "The World of Millis".


Taking a gamble, I decided to buy the necessary equipment to play this game. At first, I wondered why anyone would spend their time playing games when they could be doing something much more productive.


But as time went on, I grew to love this game. Since the death of my father, I hadn’t been able to look at things positively—I was pessimistic about everything.


However, the very moment I played through the game’s storyline and died over and over again, a flame lit up inside me—a flame of wanting to continue doing something out of pure compassion.


I died. Over. And over.


But I didn’t stop for even a moment, and with every moment I could get, I used it to admire a certain Assassin, who always remained silent and cold-hearted about everything.


I couldn’t help but admire her.


I felt similar to her in ways during my time in high school. Silent, introverted, and of course, horrible with social activities. But still capable when it came to academic topics.


However, unlike me, she was strong, confident, and steadfast in what she did. Nothing—not even the player—could put her down without a fight that would leave them with a sliver of life left.


Despite the fact that her life might’ve been far more traumatising than mine, she still remained strong.


I... I really admired her... A lot.


And even after undergoing a surgery that resulted in her becoming more ruthless and colder with her actions, I couldn’t help but feel pity.


Although she killed the player several times, I can’t help but want to help her endure the effects of her surgery because it reminded me of the terminal illness my mother had.


They weren’t the same in the slightest, but the feeling that the sight of someone you valued enduring an extreme amount of pain as if they were infected by an illness was enough to remind her of it.


No matter how many routes I played, things I did, or interactions I made, she would always remain hostile to the player. It was disappointing and extremely frustrating.


I couldn’t do anything but watch and replay the scenes that included her.


"My name?"


I wanted to soothe the pain that plagued her...


"Can’t you even remember the simplest of information, Vellen?"


I wanted to know more about her without the unnecessary fighting...


"I am..."


I wanted—


"Marionette Von Roselle."


—To be of use to her...


"..."


I shifted in my seat as I held a hand over my chest.


This feeling I had once forgotten throbbed inside my chest whenever I heard her voice or laid my eyes on her. This... This was love, wasn’t it?


I was actually in love with a digital character... Someone that I would never meet in real life...


Why... Why was life so cruel?


Beep.


I looked back at my screen and found a notification from inside... The game?


{Happy Birthday, Melissa! On this day, [April 14th 2025], we hope you will come to find yourself around those you love and celebrate such a special moment! Please make a wish!}


"Ah... It’s my birthday... That means I’m 24 now, right?"


I looked back at the video I was watching of Marionette and remembered, "We have the same birthday don’t we? Ah... Happy Birthday, Marionette..."


As I said that, the corners of my lips curled up into a smile... A rare smile. To think I would be so lucky to experience my birthday with someone else, even if they weren’t real...


"Please make a wish...? Hm..." I thought about the game’s request and noticed the text box beneath it. My lips opened slightly before sealing shut.


[Wish: I want to be with Marionette Von Roselle]


"Some day... I want to meet you, Marionette... I want to meet the real you one day..."


Click.


’Until that day comes, I’ll try to take care of myself... I promise.’


And just like that... Marionette became something more than just a digital character I admired.


She was a character I shared my most precious day and... Someone I had chosen to live for, as weird as it may be...


I really... Really was hopeless...



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