Noob6_writer9

Living a normal life is boring, but I was happy with what I had.

Even when I spent most of my life in regret and misery, I lived because I had someone that I loved dearly.

And that said someone took my life...

But fate had different plans for me...

As if death wasn't enough for me.

As if the gods were mocking me.

I got reincarnated into a hardcore romance game that I used to play.

That too when the prequel game that I played the most ended twenty-five years ago.

A game where death is everyone's mistress.

A game that people either liked or hated too much.

Now reincarnated into the body of the Villainess's son.

I became someone that I hated the most...

"Hahaha..."

I laughed at my own misery.

As if that too wasn't enough, I also became the slave of someone else's desires.

Now, one might say a mother is a mother even if the world sees her as a Villainess.

But what if your mother is the very incarnation of evil?

That your mother is the hurdle that you have to overcome?

What if your mother is the very reason you might die?

Gentleness and love are the last things one could expect from her.

"Hahaha..."

Again, a hollow laugh escaped my lips as the realization dawned on me.

That I have been...

Reincarnated As The Villainess's Son...

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Reincarnated As The Villainess's Son

I scanned the palace around me, its walls adorned with countless ornaments and marble of varying shades.

It was extravagant—breathtaking, even—yet there was an eerie coldness to it.

Towering pillars stretched toward the ceiling, which was painted, their outlines traced in gold.

Zenith had told me this was merely a replica of the original palace, but—

The sheer beauty, the impossible level of detail… Could something like this even be replicated?

I shook my head, pushing the thought aside.

"And where does this map lead to?"

I grumbled, glancing at my palm, where I had hastily sketched the map from the ceiling.

The path led deeper into the palace, where the light grew dimmer with every step.

The little bird sitting on my head chirped loudly.

A soft glow radiated from its body, casting a bluish hue over the walls and floor.

[Who Killed Mary?] [5] [Origin]