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

Juliana stood amidst the swirling dust, her cold eyes fixed on the massive figure in front of her — a burly cadet wielding a warhammer nearly as large as she was.

Around her, the battlefield was a choir of violence.

Explosions echoed in the distance, screams and battle cries rising above the clashing of steel. The air was thick with the scent of ash and smoke, of blood and gore.

Yet, Juliana remained untouched and unaffected by it all, as though the very chaos surrounding her was beneath her notice.

In front of her, the burly cadet swung his warhammer in wide, brutal arcs.

Each swing cut through the air with terrifying force, creating strong gusts of wind.

His stray strikes against the ground left deep cracks in the concrete. The sheer strength behind his attacks was undeniable.

Currently, he was battling two other cadets — a wiry boy with lightning dancing at his fingertips, and a red-haired girl launching bursts of flame from her mouth.

Behind her, two more stood — a petite girl with oversized glasses on her small face and a staff in hand, and a thin boy with a long dagger.

The girl was a healer capable of mending small wounds, and the boy could move short distances with incredible speed.

These were some of the people Juliana had "befriended" in the dorms.

But, of course, they weren't actually her friends. 

Juliana didn't make friends.

Friendship implied equality, trust, and mutual care — things she found laughable, childish even.

The people around her were not her equal, to begin with.

They were just there.

They were hers, simply hers, to take, to mold, to bend, to manipulate.

Their purpose was singular — to serve her whims, to be used and discarded at her convenience. 

They weren't allies. They weren't comrades.

They were her pawns. They were her puppets.

They were her pets.

They were useful.

Especially these guys.

Since these guys had been friends before coming to the Academy, they shared a close bond.

Juliana couldn't care less about their pathetic personal lives, but it made them a good team on the battlefield.

Even now, they were fighting against the warhammer-wielding Cadet like a single, cohesive unit. Like a well-oiled battle machine.

The healer stood at the back, providing support quietly, while the dagger-wielding boy darted in whenever there was a clear opening.

The other two fought at the front, unleashing waves of electric shocks and fireballs to overwhelm their opponent.

…But despite it all, it was Juliana who was feared the most here.

She didn't look like it at first glance, but the lithe, white-haired Shadow moved like a demoness from the depths of hell.

Her swordsmanship was a thing of deadly beauty — every strike sharp and clinically precise, each movement as fluid as it was calculated.

She was always exactly where she needed to be, attacking from the enemy's blindspot, punishing any mistake they made, exploiting every weakness they had.

She was merciless. She was unforgiving.

Even now, she was slowly circling the burly cadet like a predator, her eyes cold and calculating as he blocked an attack from one of her "allies."

Despite his towering size, the warhammer Cadet was quick on his feet and strong as a moving mountain.

Above all else, he knew how to use his weapon well.

He swung his warhammer to deflect a fireball before kicking the wiry boy square in the chest, sending him crashing into the ground.

Without pausing, he caught the red-haired girl by the throat, lifting her off her feet before slamming her into the ground with bone-rattling force.

A net of cracks splintered across the concrete where she was violently chokeslammed, and one of her orbs shattered on impact.

It was clear that despite their strength, Juliana's teammates were mere distractions.

They were not a real threat to him — at best, a fleeting annoyance.

They wouldn't last much longer.

But Juliana didn't care.

They were serving their purpose, and their purpose was to serve her.

In her world, everything was a means to an end.

And she was that end.

At that moment, another member of their group charged forward — the boy with the dagger. He wasn't able to accomplish much.

His dagger barely grazed its target before the massive warhammer swept across the air and swatted him aside, sending him sprawling like an insect.

Though, that gave Juliana an opening.

Without hesitation, she darted forward, her rapier aimed at the warhammer Cadet's exposed side.

He barely managed to turn, raising his massive weapon just in time to block.

Clang—!

The impact sent a jarring tremor through her arm, but Juliana's expression remained as uncaring as ever.

She didn't even flinch.

The Cadet growled, swinging his warhammer in a wide arc, forcing her to step back.

But just as he moved, the ground beneath them began to tremble.

The first thirty minutes were over. The terrain was shifting.

Massive stone pillars erupted from the ground all throughout the arena and the battlefield was reshaped.

One of the pillars exploded from the earth directly behind the burly Cadet, throwing him off balance.

His heavy footwork faltered for just a moment, but that was all Juliana needed.

Her lips curled into a faint, cruel smile.

In a flash, her rapier struck again, this time aiming for his inner thigh. The blade didn't pierce the skin, but it was enough to disrupt his stance.

Using that opportunity, she slipped around him like a snake and struck a blow at the back of his knee.

"Arghhh!" He let out a roar of pain and started cursing as his leg buckled under him. "You bitch! Do you even know who I am?!"

His grip on the warhammer tightened as he swung it wildly, smashing it into a nearby pillar and sending huge chunks of stone flying.

"I'm Bradly Stormwatch! Heir to the Stormwatch clan! Firstborn of Daniel Stormwatch, ruler of the four seas!"

A chunk of stone shot toward Juliana. She moved out of the way as swiftly as she could, but the edge grazed her side, cracking one of her orbs.

Fortunately, it didn't break. The damage was far from lethal.

"Tsk," she clicked her tongue in annoyance, calling out to her allies for support. "Someone shut his mouth!"

The red-haired girl responded immediately, breathing a fireball at Bradley, who was still down on one knee.

He raised his warhammer in a futile attempt to block, but it was too late.

The fireball exploded right in his face, sending him staggering back with a howl of frustration. "Argaaah!"

Juliana moved in to capitalize, her rapier moved in a blur as she unleashed a flurry of quick, lethal stabs and slashes.

One by one, Bradley's protective orbs shattered under the relentless assault — the first broke after just a few strikes, the second after a few more.

The burly Cadet collapsed, writhing and heaving heavily on the ground in pain, barely able to move.

Juliana raised her rapier, ready to deliver the final blow, but then abruptly paused as her cold gaze shifted to the red-haired girl in her party.

"...Finish him," she commanded, stepping back.

These people were disposable, sure. But they were still useful for now. She needed to control them a while longer.

Control was a delicate balance of reward and punishment. Even the most loyal pets needed incentives to continue obeying.

They needed direction, a firm hand to guide them, to remind them of their place.

So when they performed well, they deserved a treat.

What about those who failed or outlived their usefulness? Well… they could be broken without hesitation.

Because in the end, they were all hers to break.

The red-haired girl grinned appreciatively, murmuring a word of thanks before moving to eliminate the burly Cadet.

Juliana, however, had already lost interest. Her eyes roamed the battlefield, searching for her next prey.

It was at that moment she heard it…

"Ahaha! Hahahaha! Ahahahaha!"

Juliana winced as that obnoxious, all-too-familiar laughter drilled into her ears, grating on her nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

The sound was faint, as if coming from far away, slightly muffled by the cacophony of the chaos on the battlefield.

But it was undeniably there.

Sighing, she slowly turned toward the distant noise, already regretting the decision.

And there he was.

Samael stood a dozen meters away, arms spread wide in a dramatic pose like he was the star of a movie.

All around the arena, Cadets were locked in fierce combat, fighting tooth and nail for points. 

Fighting to secure their place at the Academy.

But that guy? Oh, no.

Samael had… other priorities.

"What the hell is that moron doing?" Juliana squinted to see better, then immediately cringed.

Apparently, Samael had turned a section of the ground around him into something resembling quicksand.

Several unfortunate Cadets flailed hopelessly in it, like toddlers trapped in a ball pit.

Some others had their arms or legs awkwardly fused into stone columns.

…And there was even this one kid who looked like he was crucified on a pillar?! Huh?!

The whole thing looked like an art exhibit gone horribly wrong.

What the actual hell?!

"How… how did he manage to do all that?" she muttered, caught between disgust and reluctant admiration.

Meanwhile, Samael surveyed his handiwork with the self-satisfaction of an artist admiring his new masterpiece.

After his crazy laughter subsided, the golden-haired boy looked at the poor souls he had trapped and exclaimed:

"Hear me, you filthy peasants! I am your god now! And guess what? I'm fresh out of mercy! If you don't want to be my next elimination, give me ten — no, scratch that — fifteen thousand Credits! Immediately!"

Juliana's jaw nearly dropped to the ground.

What?!

W-Was he… extorting those people?

In the middle of the exam, no less?! 

What the fuck was wrong with him?!

She blinked, her brain short-circuiting in a struggle to process the sheer absurdity of it all.

"Oh, and you! Yeah, you with the sword!" Samael pointed at a trembling Cadet. "Hand it over."

"B-But sir!" The boy stammered, desperation clear in his voice. "My father took out a massive loan to get me this sword! And my little sister has a chronic illness—"

"Do I look like I care, boy?" Samael cut him off with a deadpan snort. "Listen here! There aren't enough languages on Earth to convey the amount of fucks I do not give for your sob story. Hand me the sword… or I'll rearrange your fucking face!"

The boy, eyes brimming with tears, sobbed like a kicked puppy. In the end, he had no choice but to surrender the sword, sniffling pitifully as he did.

"My god," Juliana whispered, still staring at the scene in disbelief.

And here she thought she was a bad person. But next to Samael, she was practically a benevolent saintess.