Young Master's PoV: Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day

With all that chaos in her mind, 'helping' Ivan had been the perfect distraction.

Juliana took another slow drag from her cigarette, then flicked the ash over the balcony rail.

Below, the city lights shimmered like stars tangled in a net, and beyond the floating islands, the endless sea of clouds glowed faintly beneath the moonlight.

Ivan had gone quiet. Probably sulking. Or pretending to sulk.

He was an annoying little mutt. But lately, Juliana had started to find his presence… oddly tolerable.

Gods, she must really be losing it.

No, but really, he was one of the few people she didn't actively want to stab to death. No usually, at least.

He was like a pet dog. Or maybe a kitten.

And slowly molding him into something useful — shaping him however she wished — had started to become mildly entertaining.

He wasn't as much of a nervous wreck as before.

He didn't stammer while speaking anymore either.

He used to walk like he was afraid of his own legs — so she beat it into him. Taught him how to walk like he owned the ground. Like the noble he was supposed to be.

He even looked taller now that his posture had straightened.

His messy brown hair was always combed back now, his oversized glasses were replaced with something smaller and sharper, and his clothes finally made him look like he belonged to old money.

He carried himself differently too — more confidence in his step and in his voice.

He didn't even flinch much nowadays when she or Samael poked at him. He'd just sigh and move on, like a man who'd accepted this as his new normal.

And that quiet confidence suited him strangely well.

Yes, he was doing good.

…But not nearly good enough to compete with Viktor yet.

"Look, Ivan. The problem is that Irina likes manly guys. You, on the other hand — and I'm not saying this to emasculate you — are the opposite of what one would call masculine."

Ivan's lips twitched. "If that's not emasculating in your opinion then I'd sure as hell would not like to know what is."

"I mean, you've got that whole meek, wide-eyed scholar vibe going on," she continued, ignoring him. "It's cute. But Irina doesn't want cute. She wants a guy who looks like he could break her bed and then march into battle shirtless."

Ivan's face somehow turned even redder. "I– I can do that!"

Juliana snorted. "You can't even look at me while saying it."

"I can't look at you because you're in the jacuzzi!" he all but shouted, steam practically rising from his face.

"I'm wearing a modest one-piece, Ivan. Grow up," Juliana replied flatly, sipping her smoothie. "But that's exactly the point. Some girls might find your total lack of confidence endearing. But a girl like Irina? It repels her. You'll never be on her radar — not as a man — because you don't excite her."

Ivan scowled. "And how would you know that? You watched her for ten minutes and suddenly you've got her figured out?"

Juliana almost laughed. "Actually,. I figured h out the second I saw her. Girls like that are easy to read. And your buddy — Viktor, her crush? Boys like that are even easier."

Ivan didn't respond, but his mouth twitched like he wanted to argue and couldn't find the words.

Juliana sighed. "Fine. I'll analyze them for you. You've known them forever, right? Stop me if I get anything wrong."

The frown on Ivan's face eased slightly. He opened his mouth to say there was no need — but the white-haired menace had already started speaking:

"Viktor has a hero complex. Major repression issues. Probably raised by parents who only praised his accomplishments. He doesn't believe he deserves love unless he's saving someone. I'd wager something traumatic happened to him as a kid. He doesn't laugh much, shows affection in quiet ways, and out of the three of you, he's the most reckless."

Ivan's eyes widened with every word.

"Irina's a textbook validation addict. She mistakes 'being chosen' for 'being loved.' She's bubbly, light-hearted, and a little clumsy. Wears her heart on her sleeve. Naive, in a charming way. She's into Viktor because he probably saved her — literally or emotionally. That's all it took. Classic damsel archetype."

Ivan stared at her, jaw slack.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again, caught somewhere between denial and a kind of horrified awe.

"That's… no," he said weakly, shaking his head. "That's not who they are."

Juliana didn't respond. She just smirked, lazy and patient, as silence pressed in around them.

Ivan looked down. Then up. Then away, as if the night sky might offer some kind of escape.

But the worst part — the part that made his stomach churn — was how right she was.

Viktor had watched his brother die. That was the tragedy he carried.

And Irina was nearly kidnapped when she was little. Viktor had saved her with his quick thinking. He pulled her out of that moment like a knight in a storybook.

Juliana hadn't just guessed.

She… knew.

It was like she'd peeled them open with a single glance. Like she'd whispered a spell he didn't know could exist.

And he hated how accurately it worked.

"Okay, fine," he muttered under his breath. "Maybe you're not entirely wrong."

Juliana looked as unbothered as ever. "Correction, you meant to tell me my insight is frighteningly correct and now you fear me on a spiritual level."

Ivan scowled, cheeks flushing. "Shut up. Please!"

"I accept your surrender," she said smugly.

He glared at her — but there was something new in his eyes now. A reluctant fascination. Wariness. Maybe even… respect.

She wasn't just the unhinged sadist who barked commands and criticized his style of fashion.

She was something else.

Something dangerous.

Something sharp.

She didn't just watch people. She studied them.

Always.

From just ten minutes of distant observation, she understood his friends inside out.

He had seen her manipulate people, become their friends then use them for her gain… but now he had seen how easy it was for her to do all that.

It was unfair.

It was unnerving.

It was—

Kind of impressive.

"Okay, how did you do that?" he asked finally, the question spilling out before he could stop it. "What's the trick? Or did you stalk them beforehand and now you're just trying to show off?"

Juliana laughed a melodic laugh.

"I'm not some desperate conman," she said. Then paused. "Though, now that I think about it, I've come to appreciate that some conmen can be quite impressive."

Her smile returned a little thinner now. "But no, Ivan. Sorry to pop your little bubble, but there's no trick. People are just books. You can read them, know everything about them... if you just know where to look."

Ivan swallowed, suddenly regretting his own curiosity. "…Alright. Then what about me?"

Juliana tilted her head, eyes gleaming with something wicked. "You sure you want to know?"

"Please," he scoffed, trying to sound braver than he felt. "Let's hear it."

She leaned forward, arms resting on the edge of the jacuzzi. Her voice was a soft drawl — almost gentle. That made it worse.

"You're a chronic overthinker. The kind that rewrites conversations in your head hours after they happen. You apologize too much, but not out of politeness — out of fear. You grew up walking on eggshells, didn't you? Someone in your life made you feel like you always had to earn your place. Earn your worth. That's why you're not arrogant or even confident despite being a northern noble."

Ivan stiffened.

"You pretend you're okay with being in the background, but deep down, you hate it. You want to be seen. Not just tolerated. You want to be someone's first choice. You hate conflict, but not because you're peaceful. It's because you're afraid you'll lose everything if you allow yourself to snap."

Juliana's voice lowered a notch, almost contemplative now.

"And you're loyal. Stupidly so. To people who don't always deserve it."

There was a long moment of silence. The city lights indifferently twinkled below.

Ivan stared at her. His mouth was dry when he spoke, "…You done?"

Juliana gave a nonchalant shrug. "Hey, you asked."

He didn't respond. Not right away. After a bit, he said, "That was way meaner than Viktor and Irina's."

Juliana raised a brow. "I told you I don't say things I don't mean, Ivan. That's your job."

He blinked. "My job?"

She looked at him with eyes half-lidded and vaguely amused. "You lie to yourself every day. About who you are, what you want, what you're willing to do to get it. You've built this whole image of yourself that's nice and small and safe. Because you think that's the only version people will accept."

Ivan didn't reply. The silence this time was heavier.

Then she added quietly, "But people don't become interesting until they stop trying to be likeable."

He stared at her, then let out a dry laugh. "Is that why you're not likable?"

She chuckled. And without answering, she got up, exited the jacuzzi, and went inside.

Ivan exhaled and leaned against the balcony rail, eyes scanning the sea of lights and clouds below. The wind was gentle. And the night was too quiet.

•••

"Okay, why are we here?" Ivan asked, fidgeting with his fingers.

"Why do you think?" Juliana shot him a look. "You're going to try to put your training to the test."

Ivan had changed — a lot.

But not enough.

Not as much as Juliana wanted, anyway.

So, for the past few days, she had been giving him a few pointers, some tips and tricks, and teaching him how to flirt without looking like he was having a seizure.

It hadn't been easy.

Ivan, for all his book smarts and random trivia knowledge about obscure philosophers, was an absolute train wreck when it came to anything remotely romantic.

The boy could create complex alchemical potions and recite poetry in the old world languages, but ask him to wink at a girl and he'd start blinking instead.

So, they were at a café today. One of those open-air rooftop places with fairy lights strung above and a soft jazz tune playing in the background — the kind of place where people wanted to fall in love.

Perfect for training.

"Well, I don't think this is going to work," Ivan mumbled, tugging at the hem of his shirt. "Also, it kind of feels like I'm cheating on Irina if I flirt with other girls."

Juliana facepalmed. "For the last time — you can't cheat on someone you're not dating!"

Ivan opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off, pointing toward the far end of the room, at a girl who was there by herself.

"Look over there," she said. "That one's been waiting for someone. Long enough to start feeling ghosted. Probably second-guessing herself. Perfect setup. Go over, give her a few compliments. Say something like, 'I can't believe someone would make a girl like you wait.' It's cheesy. But keep it light. Smile. Compliment her hair clip or her smile — nothing creepy. If she responds well, lightly touch her forearm. Just a tap."

Ivan's face contorted in panic. "W–What if I touch her wrong?"

Juliana rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful. "Then I'll bail you out of jail. Now go."

Ivan went.

He remembered the steps. The plan. The psychology he was taught.

It should've been easy — the girl was already disarmed by disappointment. It was practically a golden opportunity.

And yet… he approached with all the confidence of a deer stepping onto a frozen lake.

"Hey," he said, voice cracking slightly. "You… have really nice ears."

It should've been easy… for anyone but him!

The girl blinked.

Ivan's face turned red. He turned around and walked back to where he came from.

Juliana smacked her face. "Congratulations. You invented reverse flirting."