I died reading trash.
Not even good trash - the kind of webnovel so formulaic you could predict every plot beat three chapters ahead. Hero's Destined Path had everything: a chosen one protagonist, a harem of pure-hearted beauties, and villains so cartoonishly evil they might as well twirl mustaches.
I'd hate-read it to chapter 200 before a truck sent me to whatever comes after.
Now I was living it.
"Young master, your father requests your presence in the study."
I blinked at the nervous maid standing in the doorway of my - Damien Valcrest's - absurdly opulent bedroom. Silk sheets, gold-trimmed furniture, a portrait of a sneering noble that I now recognized as my own face. The protagonist of Hero's Destined Path would kill this guy at chapter 195, right after Damien tried to assault the saintess heroine for the third time.
Three attempts. The villain tried three times before the hero finally put him down. Apparently, narrative law required maximum scumbaggery before justified murder.
"Tell him I'll be there shortly," I said, my voice unfamiliar—deeper, with an aristocratic drawl I'd never possessed.
The maid curtsied and fled. Couldn't blame her. According to the novel, Damien Valcrest was the type who'd grope servants and laugh about it.
I dragged myself out of bed, catching my reflection in a full-length mirror. Mid-twenties, sharp features, dark hair, the kind of calculated handsomeness that screamed "antagonist." The original Damien had wasted this on being a one-dimensional creep.
Think. What chapter am I in?
The hero, Aldric Brightblade (yes, really), started his journey at age eighteen. He was currently... seventeen? Eighteen? The timeline was fuzzy, but Damien's first major scene happened when he encountered Saintess Elara during her pilgrimage to the capital. That was supposed to be next month.
One month to figure out how not to die.
"Fantastic," I muttered, pulling on clothes that cost more than my previous life's yearly salary. "Reincarnated as a walking death flag."
---
The study was exactly as pretentious as expected—floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a desk carved from blackwood, my father seated behind it like a judge preparing to deliver sentence. Duke Cornelius Valcrest had the same sharp features I'd inherited, aged into harsh authority.
"Damien." His voice could etch glass. "Sit."
I sat, keeping my expression neutral. The original Damien would've been arrogant, entitled. But I had no idea what this conversation was about, and arrogance without information was just stupidity with confidence.
"The Saintess of the Holy Church will arrive in the capital next month," Cornelius said, steepling his fingers. "You will attend the welcoming ceremony."
Ah. Here we go.
In the novel, Damien had attended that ceremony specifically to harass Elara, starting his villain arc in earnest. The duke probably expected his son to make a "good impression"—by noble standards, which meant intimidation and power plays.
"Of course, Father," I said carefully. "What would you have me do?"
His eyes narrowed slightly. "Do? You're a Valcrest. Make it clear that the Church's influence ends where our territory begins. The girl is young, naive. She'll understand hierarchy once she sees it demonstrated."
Translation: bully the saintess to remind her that nobility outranks clergy.
"I understand," I lied.
Cornelius studied me for a long moment, then dismissed me with a wave. I escaped before he could assign any other cartoonishly villainous tasks.
Back in my room, I locked the door and slumped against it.
Okay. Think. I have one month before the plot truly starts. I can't just avoid Elara—Father will notice. I can't play the villain role—that ends with me dead. So what do I—
[VILLAIN'S DELIGHT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
The words appeared in glowing text directly in my vision, like a video game HUD materializing in reality.
"What the—"
[Welcome, Damien Valcrest. You have been selected as this world's true victor.]
[Your predecessor failed because he played the role assigned to him. You will succeed by rewriting it.]
More text scrolled past, too fast to read, before settling into a coherent interface:
---
VILLAIN'S DELIGHT SYSTEM v1.0
Current Status:
- Level: 1
- Corruption Points: 0
- Active Bonds: 0
- Heroines Conquered: 0/???
Primary Objective: Seduce and corrupt the destined heroines. Each heroine you claim weakens the hero's fate and strengthens your own.
Current Available Heroines:
- Saintess Elara Lightbringer [LOCKED - Encounter Required]
- Captain Seria Thornwood [LOCKED - Encounter Required]
- Queen Lyristae Silverleaf [LOCKED - Encounter Required]
Tutorial Quest Available: First Impressions
Encounter Saintess Elara. Make her remember you for reasons other than villainy.
Reward: 100 CP, System Shop Access, Skill: Aura of Interest (Rank F)
---
I stared at the floating interface, my previous life's experience with trashy isekai novels warring with the surreal reality of having one.
"So instead of dying as the villain," I said slowly, "I'm supposed to... seduce the hero's harem? That's the survival strategy?"
[Correct. The hero's power grows through bonds of pure love and righteous friendship. Your power grows through bonds of desire and willing corruption. You are narrative opposites. Only one path can reach completion.]
"And if I don't play along?"
[Then you die at chapter 195, exactly as written. The hero will kill you. Your father will be executed. House Valcrest will fall. This is your only chance to change that fate.]
The text pulsed with finality.
I laughed—slightly hysterical, mostly disbelieving. "So my choices are: be a cartoonish villain and die, or become a seduction-focused villain and maybe live?"
[Your choice is: remain a puppet of the story, or take control of it. The heroines are not objects. They are women trapped in their own narrative roles—the Pure Saintess, the Loyal Warrior, the Aloof Queen. Free them from their roles, and they will free you from yours.]
That... was almost philosophical. For a system literally called "Villain's Delight."
I pulled up the tutorial quest details again. Make her remember you for reasons other than villainy.
In the original novel, Damien's first encounter with Elara had been at the welcoming ceremony, where he'd publicly mocked her faith and made crude advances. She'd rejected him with divine magic, the hero had stepped in, and the rivalry had begun.
But what if it didn't happen that way?
What if I met her before the ceremony, somewhere private, and just... talked to her like a person?
"Alright," I said to the empty room, to the glowing interface, to whatever force had dropped me into this nightmare. "I'll play your game. But we're doing this my way."
[Acknowledged. Tutorial Quest accepted. Good luck, Damien Valcrest. Try not to die.]
The interface faded to a subtle shimmer at the edge of my vision, still present but unobtrusive.
I had one month to prepare. One month to figure out how to approach a sheltered saintess in a way that didn't scream "villain." One month to transform from a doomed antagonist into... what, exactly? The anti-hero? The seductive rival?
Hell, I'd settle for "guy who survives past chapter 195."
I sat at my desk and began to plan, a small smile tugging at my lips despite everything.
If this world wanted to trap me in a story, fine. But every story could be rewritten.
Starting with chapter one.