I'm Billy Martin. Seventeen. Professional disaster.
Unlucky? No. That word doesn't even cover it. I'm a natural catastrophe with legs, a walking, talking embodiment of bad decisions, genetically licensed to fail spectacularly.
Even my dad couldn't handle it. He left me when I was five, leaving behind a note I still keep because apparently, trauma needs souvenirs.
> "Son, I've met a young man named Goofy. He wants to become the King of Pirates. I must help him find the legendary Two Piece. Goodbye."
I laughed. Thought it was a joke. Then the news came:
"Local Man Arrested for Attempted Kidnapping."
There he was, straw hat and all, dramatically pointing at the ocean like he was about to star in an anime opening. Beside him, a terrified kid gripped a Pokémon lunchbox. Witnesses swore he shouted:
> "JOIN MY CREW! YOU HAVE POTENTIAL!"
…before three officers tackled him into the sand like he was an illegal piñata.
I realized then that maybe I was better off without him.
Twelve years later, my life had not improved. No friends. No girlfriend. No job. I existed in a constant haze of expired tea, bad manga, and the faint smell of regret.
And then came the truck.
Not just a truck—a flying, honking, midair, physics-defying truck that crashed through my ninth-floor apartment window while I was watching Doraemon. I didn't even have time to scream. Or maybe I did, but the sound got obliterated by glass and suspension of disbelief.
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When I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was the smell of expensive marble and fresh paint, which, by the way, screamed "you are about to be executed for a crime you didn't commit." The second thing I noticed was my own face, which, miraculously, looked like the kind of villain you'd fight in the tutorial dungeon. Sharp eyes, cruel grin, shadow aura that said "I will personally haunt your nightmares".
"Okay," I muttered to myself. "So. Flying trucks are canon now. Great. Sure. Makes sense."
Then came the voice. A silver-haired noble lady marched toward me with the kind of fury usually reserved for people who catch you stealing their dessert—or poisoning their hero fiancé.
"You. Stop. Talking. Now."
I blinked. "Uh… hi? I'm… sorry? Who—"
Before I could finish, my face betrayed me. The villain calibration system in my skull had apparently decided that talking normally was treason. My neutral expression twisted into a terrifying grin that could have ended three careers.
Everyone around froze. A maid fainted. A guard dropped his spear. Even a stray dog ran away screaming.
"I… I'm not trying to look scary!" I shouted.
"You… you are a monster!" the noble lady hissed, taking a cautious step back.
"I—no! System! HELP! I'm trying to talk normally!"
> SYSTEM NOTICE: Talking normally reduces Villain Credibility.
Penalty: Immediate Death. Maintain intimidating expression.
"…F***. GREAT. THANKS." I muttered, flailing uselessly.
The noble lady's glare sharpened. "Trying to poison a hero. Endangering lives. Pretending innocence. Do you even know what humanity is?"
"I… literally just got here! I don't even know what's happening!"
She trembled for a second, then snapped. "GUARDS!"
Two armored knights sprinted toward me, weapons drawn. I panicked. "WAIT—MY FACE IS NOT ME! I SWEAR! I'M NOT EVIL!"
> SYSTEM: Maintaining Villain Expression… Mandatory.
Survival Status: Highly Dangerous.
Tutorial Hint: You are the walking embodiment of misunderstood evil.
"No! I was watching Doraemon ten minutes ago!" I shouted.
The guards grabbed me. My villain grin widened uncontrollably. My aura darkened. A shadowy laugh escaped my lips despite my frantic protests.
"KUHAHAHAHA—WAIT—STOP—THIS WASN'T ME—!!"
The noble lady pointed with righteous fury. "Take this monster to jail immediately!"
And just like that, I was dragged away. Everyone screamed, fainted, or ran. Birds exploded. Physics filed a formal complaint.
> ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: Welcome to Hell!
Message: Enjoy being misunderstood and feared by everyone.
I didn't even have a chance to ask who decided I was a villain. My life, apparently, was now a parody of every bad RPG and chaotic web novel ever written.
And the worst part?
The system was still smirking at me.
> SYSTEM: Congratulations! You are now officially a walking disaster. Please enjoy your new role as the Tutorial Villain.
I screamed again.
"WHY IS MY FACE DOING THIS?! I JUST WANT TO TALK NORMALLY!!!"
And with that, my first day in Elyndria ended: arrested, misunderstood, and villainized by default, staring at my own reflection in the guard's chainmail and wondering what the f*** I did to deserve this life.
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