Trapped in an Lust Game as an Extra—Now I’m Ruining Every Heroine

Is that really a question? Kael scoffed. "Regretting it now? Just so you know, once the payment made, there's no turning back."

"That's a pretty eager response," Thalia replied, tilting her head. "I thought you were more loyal than that, Mikael."

"Huh?"

Thalia took the last bite of her lunch. "I'm not regretting it. I'm just curious."

"Didn't your parents told you already?"

"I wanted to hear it from you. Firsthand."

Hear what, exactly? That was a bold answer. Truthfully, Kael didn't even know what it meant to feel like an Ashborn.

Sure, he had all the original Kael's memories now—but that didn't make him him. Not really.

He could understand the anger, the rejection, the bitterness—but always from a distance. It felt like someone else's story.

So all he could say was:

"...it's not that different. Whether you're an Ashborn, a legitimate heir, a Duke's son or a Baron's—it's the same."

Kael scoffed again. "You should be asking commoners. People with nothing. They'd tell you what hardship really means."

Coming from someone who used to be a retail worker, even being a noble's illegitimate child felt like a privilege.

Thalia blinked at him, surprised. "That's... not the answer I expected. Wait—is that just another one of your teases, or...?"

Kael clicked his tongue. "Whatever."

Thalia chuckled softly. "It's a relief, then."

Kael glanced at her again.

There was something strange in her expression—a quiet dread, mixed with guilt. Fear, maybe. Pressure. Probably because of Gideon.

But the guilt—where was that coming from?

Was it because she'd break her sacred vow? Gone against everything she'd believed in? Against the Bonded Fated system?

"Hey, Mikael."

"My name is Kael."

"... when this is all over, will you come back here with me again?"

#

When this is all over?

Did she want him to pick her up again tomorrow?

They got lucky this time—no run-ins with Gideon or his lackeys.

But rumors would fly. After that scene they caused, it was inevitable.

And the whole thing just felt… strange.

Why risk this much for such a public 'date'?

She'd offered herself up as his bride—for what? A rebellious gesture?

If she really wanted a way out, she could've just told him to break Gideon's bones. He'd have done it. It wouldn't have been easy, sure, but it wouldn't be impossible.

That thought nagged at him all the way to his door.

It was slightly ajar, with a snack wrapper sticking out.

Kael clicked his tongue. I told her not to turn this place into a mess again.

He shoved the door open, half-ready to yell at Ellaria.

And a mess, he saw.

But Ellaria wasn't the one who made it.

She was floating—dangling, her head gripped in a massive hand that squeezed her throat so tight her body had gone stiff.

What?

Kael froze, struggling to process what he was seeing.

There, in his own room—Renwick Vale, bruised and bleeding, was choking Ellaria mid-air.

Her blood already soaked the floor.

Renwick turned to him. One eye gone. "So you finally showed up," he growled—and hurled Ellaria into the wall.

There was a sickening thud, a crunch, more blood.

"This bitch," he spat, blood—and an eyeball—falling from his mouth. "I asked her what she could do to please me, and she attacked."

The gaping hole in his face began to close. Flesh reknit itself, bone reformed. Everything healed.

Even now, his injuries from Ellaria were disappearing. "You Ashborn bastards are truly savage creatures."

Punch!

"Huh?"

Kael struck him—square in the nose. Hard. Sharp. Direct.

It should've shattered bone. But it barely felt like a mosquito bite.

"You should stick to writing rumors like a girl does," Renwick sneered. "Leave the punches to real men. Because real punch…" He grabbed Kael by the wrist, lifted him like a toy, and slammed a fist into his elbow. "...goes like this."

Crack!

"Aaaagh!"

His left arm bent the wrong way, and the pain made him scream.

Renwick tossed him down like trash. His spine and skull bounced off the floor with a sickening impact.

"Lord Halbrecht gave you a chance to reflect. But you're too dumb to realize you're not even worth standing in front of him."

Fueled by sheer rage, Kael stood—unsteady, panting.

Not just to survive. But to fight back.

He lunged—head-first—aiming for Renwick's chest.

Renwick slapped him aside like a fly, then drove a fist into Kael's throat.

Kael's vision blurred. His throat burned with every breath and his saliva stung like knives.

He screamed, adding insult to injury.

Renwick kept talking—about Kael's cowardice, his pathetic attempts, his shame—then smashed Kael's solar plexus.

Kael collapsed. Powerless. Defeated.

Defeated? Me?

His rage still burned, but his body was finished.

"Lord Halbrecht thinks you should stop moving before you cause more trouble," Renwick said. "One arm's gone. Three limbs left to break."

No—

And then the pain swallowed him whole—draining whatever hope he had left.

Kael couldn't even look away. Couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe.

He begged—silently, desperately—just to be spared.

And his consciousness slipped.

No.

It froze.

 [You have been summoned directly by ]

[Entering Dream of Destiny Zone]

[ confirmed as part of Sky Authority]

[You will now meet: The Forgotten One, The One Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken]

[Goddess of Ruin and Suffering …]

[... Nightmare]