A sharp crack echoed across the dining hall.
A glass cup shattered against the marble floor, fragments scattering across the tiles as red wine splashed outward like spilled paint.
The smell of fermented grapes quickly filled the air.
The maid froze.
Her fingers trembled around the tray she was holding as she stared at the broken glass.
Across the table, the teenager glared at her with pure irritation.
"You dare give me such cheap wine?!"
His voice rang loudly inside the hall.
"I already told you to spend my father's savings!"
The maid flinched as if struck.
Her shoulders shook while she bowed deeply.
"I—I apologize, Your Grace…"
She hurried away, nearly stumbling over the hem of her dress as she rushed to replace the bottle.
The teenager watched her leave.
Then he leaned back in his chair.
A smile slowly crept across his face as he looked outside the large window beside the dining table.
Sunlight poured through the glass, illuminating the polished wooden floor.
He looked pleased.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway.
A boy around sixteen stepped inside the room.
He wore polished knight armor that reflected the sunlight like a mirror.
The metal plates clinked softly as he walked.
Stopping a few steps away, he bowed respectfully.
"Sir… may I ask a favor?"
The teenager didn't respond.
The knight hesitated before continuing.
"Please be more considerate with Miss Miraine. She only wanted to save what's left of your father's will—"
The teenager slowly turned his head toward him.
For a moment, there was silence.
The knight thought perhaps his words had worked.
But before he could even relax—
The teenager raised a single finger.
"If she messes up again…"
His voice was calm.
Cold.
"I'll have her killed."
The knight's expression hardened immediately.
Disgust flashed across his face.
Why did such a child carry the title of a duke?
At least his father had been reasonable.
His father had understood mistakes.
But this boy…
Over a single maid?
The teenager suddenly stood up.
He hopped off the chair and casually patted the knight on the shoulder as if nothing had happened.
Then he walked toward the doorway.
Before leaving the room, he lazily added,
"Tell Miraine I'm no longer hungry."
"Just throw the food away."
The knight quietly nodded.
The teenager left.
His footsteps echoed through the long hallway of the manor.
Tall portraits hung along the walls, watching silently as he passed.
He reached his bedroom and pushed the door open.
The moment he stepped inside, he loosened his clothes and tossed his suit aside carelessly.
Then he flopped onto the soft bed.
A satisfied grin spread across his face.
"I have the whole manor to myself… haa~"
The scene slowly zooms outward.
The luxurious bedroom fades away.
The image shrinks.
Until it reveals—
A computer screen.
A high school student wearing glasses sat in front of it, gripping a controller tightly.
His eyebrows were furrowed with irritation.
"God, I hate this kid so much!"
He threw his head back dramatically.
"The audacity of being thankful when his own father died!"
He scoffed.
"If I was inside the game, I would've slapped the hell out of him!"
He tossed the controller onto the desk.
But the truth was…
It was just a fantasy game.
Still, the developers had somehow created a character so horrible that the entire fandom hated him.
And honestly…
It worked.
Online forums were filled with complaints about one specific character.
Izniz.
Players loved talking about how much they hated him.
Some even used extremely rare magic potions just to instantly kill him when the moment came in the story.
Especially during the scene where he begged for mercy.
Serves him right.
Still, reaching that part of the story took time.
After all…
Izniz did something unbelievably low.
He used literal orphans as his weapons.
Children who possessed terrifying magical potential.
Children who could easily kill him if they wanted to.
He manipulated them.
Promising they would receive anything they wished for if they helped him deal with the hero.
But the darkest part of the game?
You couldn't save them.
Those children had fallen too deep under Izniz's influence.
They would fight to the death for him.
Even if it meant killing the protagonist.
What a monster.
The student sighed and stood up.
He removed his school uniform jacket and tossed it onto a chair.
Then he stretched his arms and walked toward the kitchen.
Behind him—
A loose electrical wire sparked quietly.
Once.
Twice.
But he didn't notice.
Inside the kitchen, he opened the fridge and grabbed a cup of instant noodles.
He placed it into the microwave.
Unfortunately…
There was still a metal fork inside.
He pressed the microwave buttons.
The machine began humming.
The kitchen filled with the low mechanical sound.
Meanwhile, the student grabbed a frying pan and placed it onto the stove.
Soon—
Sizzle.
Eggs cracked against the pan.
Oil popped loudly.
Behind him, the microwave began sparking faintly.
But the sound of frying eggs covered it.
The microwave's humming grew louder.
Still, he didn't care.
He focused on cooking.
Then suddenly—
The microwave began shaking violently.
The cup noodles rattled inside.
The student turned around.
"Huh?"
He walked over and pressed the stop button.
Nothing happened.
He pressed it again.
Still running.
Inside, the cup noodles were vibrating aggressively.
Something was clearly wrong.
"I should unplug it."
He crouched down behind the microwave.
That's when he saw it.
The electrical wire was sparking wildly.
Tiny flashes of electricity snapped in the air.
He quickly reached for the plug.
His fingers were inches away.
Then—
BOOM.
A loud explosion shook the apartment.
Outside the building, people screamed.
Smoke poured from the kitchen window.
People pointed up toward the apartment building in panic.
Their voices echoed.
But slowly—
The sounds faded.
The world became darker.
Quieter.
Until there was nothing.
Then—
He gasped.
Air rushed violently into his lungs as his eyes shot open.
Sweat rolled down his face.
His heart pounded.
He immediately touched his body, checking for burns or injuries.
Nothing.
He was completely fine.
But the room around him…
Was not his apartment.
He slowly sat up from the bed.
"The last thing I remember was…"
"The microwave exploding in front of me."
His voice sounded strange in the quiet room.
He stood up and looked around.
The bedroom was enormous.
Velvet curtains.
Polished wooden furniture.
A chandelier hung from the ceiling.
Then he noticed a mirror across the room.
He slowly approached it.
And froze.
A teenager stared back at him.
Not his face.
A different one.
"Am I…"
His voice trembled.
"Izniz?"
He slowly raised his hand toward the mirror.
Before he could touch it—
Knock. Knock.
A voice came from outside the door.
"Your Grace?"
"Are you awake?"
The door slowly opened.
A teenage maid peeked inside.
Her eyes scanned the room before landing on him.
"Your Grace, breakfast is ready."
"Shall I bring it here for you?"
He slowly nodded.
His hand was still reaching toward the mirror.
The maid looked confused by the strange pose.
But she simply bowed and left.
The door closed.
Silence returned.
Then suddenly—
"Izniz…?!"
His eyes widened.
"AS IN IZNIZ BLACOV?!"
He grabbed his hair and shook his head violently.
"This can't be happening!"
"If I was transported into the game…"
"Why did it have to be Izniz?!"
He collapsed onto the bed in frustration.
Being Izniz was basically a death sentence.
Because he knew the story.
He had already played the game before he died.
And Izniz?
He was the main villain.
Eventually, he would die at the hands of the protagonist.
Not only that—
He was hated by everyone in the kingdom.
Izniz had grown up without parents.
His mother died giving birth to him.
His father, the duke, died when he was still young.
At the age of six, Izniz inherited everything.
Power.
Wealth.
Authority.
But without guidance…
He became a monster.
Later in the story, the characters attended high school.
On the first day, Izniz tried to impress a girl he liked.
He challenged the protagonist to a duel.
He lost.
Humiliated.
And from that humiliation—
He chose revenge.
He used orphans with terrifying magical potential.
Children capable of killing powerful fighters.
But he never realized one thing.
Compared to the protagonist's party…
Those children stood no chance.
With a full team, defeating one orphan was a completely one-sided battle.
Yet Izniz kept sending them.
Again.
And again.
Some joined him for money.
Others joined simply because they enjoyed killing.
But in the end…
None of them survived.
Many lost control of their powers in their own tragic storylines.
The boy clenched his fists.
"I want to help them."
"The children the previous Izniz used."
Sunlight poured through the window.
A ray of light crossed his determined face.
I scratched my chin.
There must be a system here… right?
"System!"
He raised his hand dramatically.
Nothing happened.
"…Seriously?"
I mean, the game had a GUI.
Maybe it just didn't exist here.
He walked around the room.
Only now did he truly notice how beautiful it was.
When he woke up earlier, he had ignored everything in panic.
Now he opened the curtains.
The view outside was breathtaking.
Gardeners carefully trimmed the hedges.
Maids carried baskets of freshly washed clothes.
Birds chirped softly in the distance.
The manor looked peaceful.
He smiled quietly as he watched the scene.
Behind him—
The same maid entered the room pushing a trolley.
She stopped.
Her eyes widened slightly.
Izniz was smiling.
A gentle expression.
Something she had never seen before.