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

Vereshia Morrigan's face remained on the screens.

The silence in the coliseum hung heavy with anticipation as every new Cadet stood frozen, waiting for her next words.

"Many of you are nervous, perhaps even frightened."

Her voice echoed across the vast arena.

"And you should be. This is Apex Academy — the most prestigious institution in the world. A place where weakness is purged, and strength is revered."

The tension in the air seemed to coil tighter.

I could sense the anxiety rippling through the Cadets around me. Some shifted uneasily from, while others stared fixedly at the massive video boards surrounding us.

Vereshia leaned forward slightly, her fingers steepled beneath her chin.

"The entrance evaluation is a simple process. Survive. Compete. Excel. And perhaps – if you're good enough – you will be recognized. You will be remembered. You will be rewarded."

Her words were like a lullaby made of sharp knives, each syllable carrying an edge.

"Now, let me explain the rules."

As she spoke, the screens flickered, displaying a three-dimensional model of the coliseum.

"The exam this year is straightforward." She paused for emphasis. "You have three orbs attached to the belt we've provided. These orbs absorb a certain amount of damage dealt to their wearer. Once that limit is reached, the orbs will shatter. Your task is to destroy as many of your opponents' orbs as possible while defending your own."

Another pause.

"The more orbs you destroy, the more points you will accumulate. Your score will be displayed on the bracelet we've given you. But if you lose an orb of your own, twenty-five percent of your total score will be deducted. And yes, your score can drop into the negatives."

I swear, when she spoke again, her voice had a faint hint of amusement.

"To make things more interesting, the terrain will change every thirty minutes. Forests, mountains, rivers – anything could appear at any time. So, prepare for the unexpected."

As she listed off the possibilities, the 3D model of the arena shifted fluidly on the screens, its ground morphing into various landscapes.

I scoffed inwardly.

This was going to be fun.

"The exam will last for twelve hours. No breaks. And do not think that simply being accepted into the Academy guarantees your place here. In fact, if you lose all three of your orbs within the first four hours, you will be expelled."

A murmur of panic swept through the crowd at that warning.

Four hours? They had to fight for four hours straight? And the entire exam was going to last for twelve?

It felt impossibly harsh!

How could the Academy expect them to endure such a trial?! This was just unfair!

But the Academy didn't care, much like Vereshia, who kept on speaking.

"You may use whatever Cards you have in your Arsenal. Deal as much damage as you can. Go. All. Out. We have the world's best medics and alchemists are on standby. We will not allow you to die. So do not be afraid, and do… not… disappoint us."

The 3-D model on the video boards faded, replaced once more by Vereshia's crimson-eyed image, her gaze piercing as if she could see and measure each of us from behind the screens.

After that, she continued to explain the exam in detail, but my attention was already drifting. Hey, it's not my fault I had ADHD! Sue me!

I stifled a yawn and glanced around lazily, not paying attention to the video boards anymore.

That's when, far off in the distance, I spotted a few figures perched atop the walls of the coliseum, observing us from above.

They were the medical teams, alchemists, and staff Vereshia had mentioned.

Their job was to safely supervise this whole exam and intervene only when someone's life was at risk.

"Oh?"

Suddenly, my eyes caught something interesting.

Standing casually on a wall, overlooking the crowd of Cadets, was a man who seemed to be in his mid-twenties.

His dark hair fell neatly around his face, and his light hazel eyes seemed to gleam with bright exuberance.

All that, paired with his soft facial features, gave him a young but undeniably handsome charm.

He wore a flowing robe of gold and white, and while he wasn't particularly tall, he carried himself with an elegance that made him stand out.

That robe... and that face! No doubt about it. I instantly recognized who he was.

He was the Concocter, one of the most brilliant alchemists alive today.

A grin spread across my face as I turned to Juliana. She was standing right beside me.

I nudged her, keeping my excitement barely contained.

"Juli! Juli!" I whispered, pointing upward. "Look!"

She spared me a strange look and then followed my finger to where I was pointing on top of the wall. Clearly, she didn't recognize him, so she remained unimpressed.

"What?" she asked, her voice cold and flat.

"That's the Concocter!" I said, unable to hide my enthusiasm.

She shot me a scowl that still somehow managed to look polite and respectful. "The who?"

I stared at her, almost in disbelief. "You don't know him? The Concocter! Rexerd Cronwell!"

"Am I supposed to know him?" She asked, and I almost gasped.

"Yes!" I exclaimed dramatically. "He's the one who made Rexerd's Brew, perfected the formula for the Mindscape Drug, and created countless Essence Refinement Potions."

Juliana was quickly losing interest in my nerdy ramblings.

Her eyes were turning back to the screens, where Vereshia was explaining what actually mattered – the upcoming exam.

However, I wasn't done, "And more importantly, he's the most knowledgeable person on the topics of Spirits and Portals! The man has more than three doctorates in mystic studies. Honestly, no one knows more about Spirits than he does."

That caught her attention. Like a cat suddenly alerted, her ears perked up.

I wasn't lying there. In the game, Rexerd Cronwell, the assistant head professor of alchemy, was a treasure trove of knowledge when it came to Spirits.

He was an invaluable ally to the main characters and helped them get through quite a few perilous situations.

If it weren't for him, the heroes would've been dead when they were stranded in the Spirit Realm in Act One.

So, yeah. He was a lot of help… until Michael, the game's protagonist, killed him.

Why did Micheal kill him? I can't tell that. That would be a spoiler.

Juliana was trying to hide her curiosity, but I saw through her façade. She was definitely interested now.

She tried to keep her tone calm when she spoke, but her voice held a spark of intrigue, "Really?"

"Yes!" I nodded, thrilled. "Remember that theory I presented to the Grandmasters about the Portals? Well, it was largely inspired by Rexerd's research. I just tweaked a few things."

That was a total lie.

But I doubted Juliana was focusing on what I was saying anymore — her mind was probably racing with thoughts of her own. I bet gears were already turning in her head.

"Is that so?" she hummed absently. But then, as if suddenly recalling something, "Wait, how do you even know all this, Young Master?"

This time, I frowned at her. "What do you mean, how? I like alchemy. Of course, I'd know a few things about the field."

"You don't like alchemy," she shot back, her accusatory tone dripping with skepticism.

"What?! Of course I do! Remember, I took alchemy classes last summer?"

"You took one class. One."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, fine. I was inspired by Sir Rexerd to study alchemy, but after just one class, I realized it wasn't my thing."

She gave me a sidelong glance, then nodded to herself, seemingly satisfied with that explanation.

Meanwhile, I couldn't help but smirk.

And so, the first step of my plan begins.

•••

Vereshia spent a few more minutes explaining everything about the exam in meticulous detail — the rules, the rewards, the reasons for the exam. 

It was all just tedious information I was too bored to focus on.

Finally, she leaned back in her chair, her crimson eyes sharp as a blade glinting in the moonlight.

"Lastly, if you wish to forfeit or if all your orbs are destroyed, you will need to exit the grounds. Once all three of your orbs are gone, so are you. That's all."

The entire coliseum held its breath, waiting for her final words to fall. Waiting for her to start it all.

"And with that... let the evaluation begin!"

The massive screens surrounding the arena flickered for a moment. The broadcast was cut off, replaced by a ticking countdown:

[11:59:59]

Twelve hours. That was how long the test would last. Twelve hours to fight, to survive, to prove we deserved to be here at the Academy.

For a few heartbeats, no one moved.

The air was thick, almost suffocating, as the tension gripped us all. Everyone stood rooted in place, minds torn between the same questions.

Should they strike first?

Or wait for someone else to make the first move?

Because if you lost all your orbs within the first four hours, it was over. You'd be expelled — gone before even setting foot in a classroom.

That fear, that uncertainty, kept everyone from moving.

The stakes were too high to act recklessly.

But there was an obvious loophole here.

If we all stood our ground for the first four hours and did nothing, no one would be eliminated. No one would be expelled.

Play it safe, wait out the risk period, and only then start fighting.

In theory, we could all make it through. All it required was patience.

And for a brief moment, it seemed everyone shared the same thought.

The arena fell into a strange, eerie stillness.

It was the kind of silence where you could hear your own heartbeat thumping in your ears.

The kind of silence that pressed against your skin like smoke, waiting for even the faintest sound to tear it apart.

I didn't move either, but a small smile tugged at my lips as if I knew a joke that the others didn't.

Because I did.

That loophole wasn't left there by accident — it was deliberate. Because to utilize it, we'd need to trust each other. Completely. Unconditionally.

We'd have to believe, beyond a doubt, that no one would make a move during these first four hours.

We'd have to trust strangers.

This wasn't just a battle of strength. It was a test of will. A psychological trial as much as a physical one.

The Academy wanted to see who would crack under pressure and who could keep their nerve.

The mental strain was bound to be enormous in a scenario like this.

The fear of making the first reckless move was paralyzing. No one wanted to attack first and draw attention to themselves.

Because once you attacked, you'd expose yourself. 

You'd show your hand and make yourself known.

You might score a few points, but you'd also paint a target on your back for everyone else to see.

Was it worth the risk?

Not for me. Not for most.

But waiting silently had its own dangers.

The longer you hesitated, the more the doubt crept in: What if I'm missing my chance? What if someone else attacks me? What if I can win this test?

Because if everyone played it safe…

If everyone just waited, the first person to strike would gain the advantage. They'd shatter the calm and force everyone else to react.

They'd control the flow of the battlefield and dictate the pace of the chaos.

Attacking first was reckless, yes — but it also gave you power. The power to set the tempo.

And it was a power worth exploiting if you knew how.

But again, the moment you strike, you become visible.

You stop being just another competitor and become the one to watch out for. The one to eliminate.

It was a tough choice. Most people were too frozen by fear, caught in a deadlock of indecision.

The longer the silence stretched, the more unbearable it became.

The arena seemed still on the surface, but beneath that calm was a storm of nerves and second-guessing.

Each person was sizing up the other, trying to read who might snap first or who was the easiest to deal with.

After all, not everyone would want to wait.

Some people thrive on chaos.

Some people understood that hesitation bred weakness. 

Some people were willing to take the first risk and disrupt the balance, knowing that if they waited too long, they might end up as prey instead of predator.

Some people believed in their own strength and underestimated that of everyone else's.

…Then there were people like me.

The opportunists – the ones who wouldn't attack first and were waiting for the silence to be broken by someone else.

They would move the moment chaos took hold, capitalizing on the panic and confusion.

These people didn't want to start the fire, but they'd sure as hell take advantage of it once it was burning.

That was what I was doing.

I was waiting for someone else to make the first move.

And I didn't have to wait long.

—BOOOM!!

Not even twenty minutes had passed when a booming explosion in the distance shattered the stillness.

The game had begun.

Instantly, the tension snapped, and the coliseum erupted into chaos.

Everyone broke into action, some charging toward the noise, others scrambling for safety.