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

At the beginning of the story, Michael Godswill was nothing more than a bullied kid.

His daily routine consisted of getting shoved into lockers, ignored by classmates, and mocked by the aunt and uncle who were supposed to take care of him.

He had nothing in life – no friends, no family, and not a shred of strength to stand against this cruel world.

No one saw greatness in him. Not even Michael himself.

Except for this one girl in his class – Lily. She always believed in him when no one else did.

And, as stories tend to go, by the end, Michael became a legend. He stood as the champion who fought the Spirit King and his Defiled army.

He became the hero of this story.

But how?

How did someone who couldn't even stand up to some petty bullies find the courage to face an ancient evil?

The answer was simple.

He was the protagonist.

The chosen one.

And like any typical protagonist in a zero-to-hero fantasy, he was given a cheat item.

A cheat item is basically one of those convenient plot devices that gives the main character an edge over everyone else.

Call it what you like — a golden finger, a lucky encounter, the author's lazy way to make the hero overpowered.

It could be anything — an almighty system, a wise old man in a beggar's disguise, or a mythical item that lets the hero restart his life.

But Michael's cheat item was a bit different. It wasn't just a blessing. It was a curse wrapped in power.

Let me explain.

A couple of decades ago, the Spirit King sent his six generals — the Demon Princes — to invade Earth.

But before they could step foot on our planet, the Monarchs led their armies to the Spirit Realm and destroyed the Demon Princes.

Or so everyone thought.

What the Monarchs didn't know was that as long as the Spirit King himself lived, his generals could not truly die.

Their souls were bound to some cursed artifacts they had hidden on Earth beforehand.

And by the sheer twist of fate, Michael had one of those artifacts in his possession – the sword of the sixth Demon Prince, Xaldreth.

His parents had passed it down to him, not knowing its true nature. Michael didn't know either, not until the day the sword awakened, and Xaldreth revealed himself to him.

Michael's first instinct was to throw the cursed thing away.

But Xaldreth was a great demon. He was cunning, silver-tongued, and deeply manipulative.

He knew exactly what to say to a boy who had always felt small and weak all his life.

Power. It was the one thing Michael craved more than anything, yet never had.

Why had he been born weak?

Why, when he had the heart to do what was right, was he the one left to suffer while scum like his bullies were blessed by the heavens?!

Why?!

It wasn't fair! None of it was fair!

Michael had sworn that if he ever gained power, he would use it for good. He would fight for those who couldn't fight for themselves, for people like him.

But the heavens remained indifferent to his pleas.

So when Xaldreth offered him the power to change his fate, Michael — desperate to escape his miserable existence — reluctantly accepted.

The cursed sword awakened his Origin Card, fortifying his soul, and filling him with Spirit Essence beyond what he thought was possible.

However, that power came with a cost — Xaldreth's constant presence.

The demon couldn't manifest in the physical world since Michael wasn't strong enough to channel the sword's full power. Not yet.

So, Xaldreth could only appear as an apparition in Michael's vision. A specter. A ghost. A phantom.

No one else could see him. No one else could hear the honeyed words and tempting whispers of power he fed to Michael day after day.

He promised to be his ally, his only true friend.

And Michael, all alone and yearning for power, believed him. After all, Xaldreth had given him everything he'd ever wanted.

But, of course, the demon had his own plan.

He was waiting…

Waiting for the moment when Michael could unlock the sword's full potential.

Thus, to help him grow, Xaldreth taught him the brutal arts of combat, revealed ancient knowledge, and even shared the dark secrets of alchemy and crafting.

That's how Michael became strong.

Strong enough to stand here now.

Strong enough to block my sword!

Clang—!!

His blade met mine, stopping me from eliminating my target.

"Ahhh!" The girl I was supposed to backstab turned at the sound and saw us both standing there. She yelped in shock and immediately fled.

The protagonist and I remained standing, staring at each other, our expressions turning serious after the initial shock faded.

After a moment, a stray smile found its way on my face.

"Michael!" I greeted, my tone laced with exaggerated sweetness like I was reunited with an old friend. "How are you?"

I made a show of looking him up and down. "Wow, did you lose some weight? That's good! No offense, but you used to look like a sack of potatoes before!"

What the hell?! Why did I say that?

Seriously, why on earth did I say that?!

Michael's nose scrunched up in disgust as he gritted his teeth and swatted away my sword with his own.

Then, a dark grin spread across his lips.

"So you passed the interview, huh?" he muttered, his voice full of bitter amusement. "I suppose it's to be expected from the great Samael Theosbane. I'm glad. Now I can beat you senseless without any consequences."

Before I could even blink, he shot a kick at my chest, and I barely managed to dodge it by a hair's breadth.

Damn, he was fast!

That kick came out of nowhere.

How was he still moving this quickly? We'd been fighting for the same amount of time, yet he did not look exhausted at all!

Well, I knew how.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I raised my hands in mock surrender. "Why are you attacking me, man?!"

I swear I saw a vein pulse on Michael's forehead.

"You're asking me why?" His voice practically erupted. "Where do you get the audacity? You made my life a living hell!"

He swung his longsword again, and I quickly parried it with my mia dao, stepping back to create a safe distance between us.

"Hey, you stole my girlfriend!" I shot back.

"Huh?!" Michael tilted his head, his face a canvas of anger. "I didn't steal anyone! She didn't love you, to begin with! I doubt even you did!"

I shrugged. I mean, he wasn't wrong.

Lily and I had only been together because of our elite backgrounds. Had there been a girl at school with a higher status, I would've been with her instead.

It was a shallow relationship, but that's just how things worked in higher society.

It wasn't that I didn't like Lily. I did. Just... not romantically. Or maybe? I don't know. It was all confusing.

But still! Still!

"Anyway," I shook my head. "Didn't you already beat me up? I was in a coma for a day, dude! Isn't that enough?"

"Fuck you!" he snarled. "That's not nearly enough to make up for the physical and mental trauma you put me through!"

"Arghh," I groaned, rolling my eyes.

This was going nowhere.

Michael was the perfect protagonist — kind-hearted, generous, compassionate, morally righteous, selfless, all that goody two-shoes crap.

But if there was one thing he wasn't, it was forgiving.

He didn't just hold grudges. He nurtured them, let them fester and grow.

That was one of the things that irritated me about him. He was always so emotional about the most trivial things.

Someone hurt you? Okay, move on, man! Life's too short for petty revenge!

In fact, I never really understood the whole revenge thing. Just live and let live!

Sadly, not everyone could share my infinite wisdom.

I sighed as Michael raised his sword again, clearly ready to strike.

But before he could move, I yelled at the top of my lungs, "Juli! I'm in a situation here! A little help?!"

Michael's face twisted in confusion.

He frowned, probably about to ask what I was doing, when suddenly a swarm of people attacked him from all sides.

Wow, she worked fast.

Without wasting a moment, I turned and ran.

I didn't look back. Never look back. A rule every tactician lives by when making a strategic retreat.

"Run, run, run!" I muttered under my breath, weaving through the chaotic battlefield like my life depended on it — because, well, it did.

Behind me, I could hear Michael's voice rising over the clashing of blades. "Samael, you coward! Get back here!"

I felt a chuckle bubble up in my chest.

I could picture the expression on his face – a mixture of rage and confusion as Juliana's minions swarmed him. 

Oh, poor guy.