Alex Thorne's last memory of Earth was embarrassingly mundane.
He'd been rage-quitting a mobile gacha game at 3:17 a.m., eyes burning, phone battery at 4%, when he'd stood up too fast, tripped over his own charging cable, and cracked the back of his skull against the corner of his desk. The last thing he heard was the pathetic *thunk* of his head and the game's victory fanfare mocking him from the speakers.
Death by gamer rage. Classic.
When consciousness returned, it didn't come with white light, angels, or even the comforting smell of hospital antiseptic.
It came with pain.
Sharp, throbbing pain behind his eyes, like someone had used his brain as a stress ball. His mouth tasted like copper and old wine. His body felt… wrong. Too heavy in some places, too lean in others. Silk sheets clung to sweat-damp skin that definitely wasn't his usual post-all-nighter stickiness.
He cracked one eye open.
Candlelight. Stone walls. A four-poster bed carved with snarling gargoyles. Tapestries depicting men in black armor impaling screaming peasants. A massive arched window showing a bruised purple sky and two moons—one crimson, one pale.
Alex blinked slowly.
"…the actual fuck?"
A voice answered. Not in his ears. Inside his skull. Dry, amused, and dripping with sarcasm.
«Congratulations, host. You've successfully died like a bitch and reincarnated like an even bigger one. Welcome to the body of Duke Vesper Blackthorn, age twenty-eight, current most-hated man in the Kingdom of Aetheria, and star antagonist of the web novel you were hate-reading last week. Title: *Light of the Chosen Hero*. You may remember chapter 147, where he gets publicly castrated by the saintess before the hero beheads him. Fun times.»
Alex sat up so fast the room spun.
A translucent blue screen hovered in front of his face like an augmented-reality HUD from a budget VR game.
**[ULTIMATE VILLAIN DOMINION SYSTEM – INITIALIZATION COMPLETE]**
**[Host: Alex Thorne → Vesper Blackthorn]**
**[Current Evil Points: 0]**
**[Level: 1 (Pathetic)]**
**[Main Quest: Survive the Next 72 Hours Without Getting Assassinated, Betrayed, or Accidentally Poisoned by Your Own Servants. Reward: 500 Evil Points + Basic Shadow Manipulation Skill]**
**[Penalty for Failure: Permanent -50% to All Stats + Public Humiliation Event Triggered]**
**[Bonus Objective: Seduce at least one woman who currently wants you dead. Reward: +200 Lust Aura, Unlock "Irresistible Gaze" passive]**
The voice in his head chuckled.
«Oh, and one more thing. You now have a charisma stat of 92. That's god-tier for this world. Unfortunately, 98% of the female population still wants to stab you in the throat. Good luck turning that around, Casanova.»
Alex stared at the screen. Then at his hands. Long, pale fingers. Black signet ring engraved with a coiled serpent. Nails manicured to sharp points. Definitely not the calloused, Dorito-dusted mitts he was used to.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed. Bare feet hit cold marble. He was wearing nothing but black silk boxers that probably cost more than his old apartment rent.
"Okay," he muttered aloud. "Okay. Deep breath. This is fine. I've read enough of these stories. I died, got isekai'd into the villain, got a system. Standard template. I just need to—"
A sharp knock at the massive double doors.
«Incoming plot armor warning,» the system chimed cheerfully. «It's your personal maid. She's carrying a tray. Stat check: 87% chance the tea is poisoned. 12% chance it's just really bad. 1% chance it's actually fine and she's just incompetent.»
The doors creaked open before Alex could respond.
A young woman stepped inside.
Early twenties. Raven-black hair pinned in an elegant updo. Maid uniform in deep crimson and black—far too form-fitting for actual cleaning. Porcelain skin, violet eyes, and an expression that could curdle milk.
She curtsied. Perfectly. Mechanically.
"Your Grace," she said, voice flat. "Your evening tea. As requested."
She set the silver tray on the bedside table. Steam curled from the porcelain cup. It smelled faintly of bergamot… and something metallic.
Alex stared at her.
She stared back.
Neither blinked.
The system pinged again.
**[New Side Quest Unlocked: "First Taste of Treachery"]**
**[Objective: Drink the tea without dying. Reward: +100 Evil Points, Insight into who wants you dead most]**
**[Alternative Objective: Force her to drink it first. Reward: +300 Evil Points, Unlock "Dominance Aura" (Low Tier), +1 Loyal Servant (Forced)]**
**[Hidden Objective: Seduce her on the spot. Reward: ??? (System deems this statistically improbable at current affection: -78)]**
The maid—Liora, the name floated up from Vesper's fragmented memories—tilted her head slightly.
"Is something wrong, Your Grace? You seem… unsettled."
Alex's brain short-circuited for a second.
She was beautiful. Objectively, unfairly beautiful. And she hated him. Viscerally. He could feel it radiating off her like heat from a forge.
He swallowed.
Then, because panic makes idiots of us all, he smiled.
It was the smile Vesper Blackthorn was infamous for: slow, predatory, the kind that promised pain dressed up as pleasure.
Liora's pupils contracted.
Alex leaned forward, elbows on knees, chin in hand.
"Tell me, Liora," he said, voice low and velvet-smooth—apparently the body came with a built-in radio announcer voice—"if I drank that tea right now… would I be dead in five minutes, or ten?"
Her composure cracked. Just a flicker. A tiny widening of those violet eyes.
Then she recovered.
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Your Grace."
Alex laughed. A real one. It startled both of them.
The system chimed happily.
«Oh-ho. First laugh in this body. +5 Evil Points for sheer audacity. Keep going, you magnificent disaster.»
He stood up. Slowly. Towering over her. The silk boxers did very little to hide anatomy that—yeah, okay, villain perks apparently included that department too.
Liora didn't step back.
Brave. Or stupid.
Alex reached past her, picked up the cup, and held it between them like a grenade with the pin half-pulled.
"Bottoms up," he murmured.
Then he tipped it toward her lips instead.
Her hand shot up, grabbing his wrist. Stronger than she looked.
"Don't," she hissed.
Their faces were inches apart now. Her breath smelled faintly of mint and fear.
Alex raised an eyebrow.
"Worried about your master, little viper? Or worried I'll make you drink it after?"
For the first time, something real flickered in her eyes.
Not just hate.
Confusion.
And maybe—just maybe—the tiniest spark of something else.
The system pinged like a slot machine hitting jackpot.
**[Affection +3 (Current: -75)]**
**[Achievement Unlocked: "Reverse Psychology Level 1" – You've successfully made someone who wants you dead hesitate. +50 Evil Points]**
Alex grinned wider.
This body might be doomed.
This world might want him dead.
But goddamn if it wasn't the most fun he'd had in years.
He set the cup back down untouched.
"Pour me a new one," he said softly. "Fresh pot. No poison this time. And Liora?"
She stiffened.
"Next time you try to kill me," he continued, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear with deliberate slowness, "at least make it interesting."
He walked past her toward the wardrobe, feeling her stare burning holes in his back.
The system cackled in his head.
«Welcome to villain arc one, host. Population: you, a murderous maid, and approximately eight hundred people who want your head on a pike. Buckle up. It's gonna be a messy, sexy, hilarious ride.»
Alex smirked into the darkness of the wardrobe.
Yeah.
He could work with that.