Damn it!
Nanael cursed in his mind.
Is this karma? I die in the modern world for killing someone who absolutely deserved it—then I get punished by waking up in this bastard's body?!
He growled silently, clenching his jaw.
He already knew about Benedict's miserable past. The boy had been unwanted from the start, all because he was born out of wedlock. All he ever wished for was something simple—
To be loved. Genuinely.
But he never got that. Not once. Not with all the ugly rumors about him. Not with the shame of being a bastard child.
Do people in this world not have any damn empathy? Nanael groaned internally, his head still throbbing.
How could they just ignore him his whole life? Just because he's a bastard?!
And where the hell is his father in all of this? Duke Veritas! That bastard! The one who couldn't keep it in his pants and knocked up a maid! Now I'm stuck in this mess, trapped in the body of a villain with nothing. He has no power or allies on his side. Just someone waiting to be crushed by the hero later on!
Then suddenly a thought struck him.
Wait… that Hypnosis power! Yes! The SSS-rank Hypnosis skill!
He tried to calm down, pushing through the pain pounding in his skull. If he could get his hands on that power…
Hold on… what if I use Hypnosis on Duke Veritas himself? Or even Benedict's older brothers? Maybe I could live a decent life here. Not like the original Benedict who suffered through everything. Maybe I could finally get what he wanted all along…
Love… or at least acceptance.
A vague plan began to form in the back of his mind.
But… how did Hypnosis even work right now? In the novel, Benedict activated it through eye contact. But Nanael had no clue how to use it. He'd just been a regular office worker before—no special skills, no cheat sheet for this.
Suddenly, a whisper tickled his ear.
"Make… them… regret it…"
He turned to his right, startled, expecting someone to be standing there whispering. But there was nothing. Just a window, bathed in soft moonlight.
What was that? Who just whispered to me? No… no, I'm probably just imagining things.
Nanael ran a hand through his hair in frustration. His head was a mess.
Even now, the betrayal from his modern life haunted him. The image of his wife… cheating on him. The rage. The heartbreak. It still burned, eating away at his soul.
He didn't know what to do in this new world. Everything was foreign.
Why did I end up here? Why do I have to live again, with the scars of that betrayal still fresh in my heart?
Is this some kind of cruel cosmic joke?
"Make… her… regret it…"
The whisper came again.
This time, Nanael stiffened.
He was sure of it now—he wasn't imagining things.
That voice was real.
Is this a side effect of possessing someone else's body?
Is Benedict still here? Trying to communicate with me?
Dozens of questions swarmed his head.
Is he asking for his body back? Does he want revenge?
He didn't have the answers.
But then, a desperate idea crossed his mind.
Without warning, he slapped his own cheek. Hard.
SMACK.
His face burned red from the impact.
"Wake up, Nanael…! This has to be a nightmare," he muttered through gritted teeth.
But the pain was real. And no matter how much he wished otherwise… he had died in the modern world. He couldn't deny that anymore.
All he could do now was face this cruel new reality.
He let out a long, shaky breath.
I'm sorry, Benedict. I'll find a way… I swear I'll return your body to you someday.
"Regret…"
The whisper came again.
This time, Nanael didn't ignore it.
It's him. It has to be Benedict.
He wants something. He wants them to regret it.
But who exactly did he mean?
The Veritas family? His cold, heartless relatives?
But earlier, the whisper had said: "Make her regret it."
Who's her?
Nanael shook his head, trying to push the storm of questions away before his migraine got worse.
Focus, dammit. Think. You need to figure out the situation first.
How far was he from the start of the main story? How much time did he have before the protagonist made his debut?
And more importantly—how would he survive in this strange world?
His eyes drifted to a mirror beside the bed.
A pale, skinny boy stared back at him. Snow-white hair. Blood-red eyes.
His body was thin, his face hollow and underfed. There were shadows under his eyes. He looked average at best, maybe even a little sickly, but with proper care… that face could be refined. Maybe even handsome one day.
"Alright, Nanael…" he whispered to his reflection.
"You're Benedict now."
"And you have to survive. No more playing the villain. Live the way you want."
He gave himself a nod, steeling his heart.
Now, all he needed… was a way to awaken that SSS-ranked skill.
He had to find out how the original Benedict had unlocked it.
And then, rewrite his story.