"Hmm..."
I narrowed my eyes, forcing my vision to sharpen as the violet glow burned into my retinas. I leaned forward, my face nearly touching the translucent text.
"Main Plot... Hero... Demon... Huh?"
The words felt like a slow-acting poison, taking their time to seep into my brain. Then, the realization hit me like a physical blow to the gut.
"WHAT?!"
I scrambled upright, ignoring the way my vision swam and my muscles screamed in protest. The screen moved with me, ghosting through the air as if tethered to my very soul.
I subconsciously reached out to grab the edges of the display, but my fingers just sliced through the light, meeting nothing but cold air.
"The Hero is coming to destroy this family?"
The implications started piling up. If a 'Hero' was coming to wipe out the Aragons, that meant I wasn't the protagonist. In fact, none of my powerful, terrifying siblings were. We weren't the stars of this show; we were the raid bosses. The obstacles. The loot drops.
"Then who is he? And what am I supposed to be? An extra?"
And then there was the other line—the one that felt like a cold drop of water tracing my spine.
"Demon-Dragon resonance... 4%? I'll die if it hits zero?"
I stared at the number. It was pulsing a low, angry red.
It's just getting more and more hilarious. When is this going to stop? Am I just a character designed to suffer one impossible situation after another? A cosmic punching bag for the Author's amusement?
I looked down at the final bit of 'advice' the screen had graced me with.
"The Hero of this sequel... he only cares about the 'Demon' blood in your veins. Try to save your family from the Hero... or at least, try to make sure they don't kill you before he does."
Haaaahhh~
A long, weary sigh escaped my lips, sounding more like a rattle than a breath. I let my head fall into my hands, my fingers digging into my scalp.
This was it. The limit.
I was officially fed up with this. I had been in this world for less than a day, and I had already been set on fire, interrogated by a sister who could sense my heartbeat, labeled a terminally ill half-demon, and now I was being told I was a target for some 'Hero' I'd never even heard of.
"So I'm the villain's side-character sibling who dies in the prologue to show how 'cool' the Hero is?"
The unfairness of it all was so staggering that it felt like a physical weight pressing down on my chest.
"Can't I just have a little bit of peace?" I whispered, my voice cracking in the empty room. "Just an hour where someone isn't trying to fry, interrogate, or execute me?"
I deserved that much at least. Didn't I? I hadn't asked to be the "Pervert Prince."
I hadn't asked for my blood to be a battlefield for two ancient races. I was just a student who had the misfortune of dying and being tossed into a story that was clearly written by a sadist.
I looked at my trembling hands. The pale moonlight made them look even more skeletal.
"Ha... Hahahaha..."
A low, jagged laugh bubbled up from my throat, filling the cold, moonlit room. I didn't know why I was laughing. Maybe I was finally going crazy.
I leaned against the bedpost, my shoulders shaking. "Good one, Author," I whispered to the empty air. "You really know how to build a welcoming environment."
As I was laughing, a soft, hesitant knock happened at the door.
I flinched and my heart hammered against my ribs.
Who now? Elena?
"Young master, everyone is expecting you at the dining table," a quiet voice drifted through the wood.
It was the maid.
I hope she didn't hear me laughing like a total lunatic. That was the last thing my "Pervert Prince" reputation needed—adding "Madman" to the list.
"Ah... Ahem... Yeah, I'm coming," I called out, my voice cracking slightly. I cleared my throat, trying to summon whatever regal dignity I had left in this failing body.
I stood up, forced my legs to stabilize, and walked to the door. I pulled it open with a sharp tug.
The maid was standing there, the one from earlier. The same veil as before obscuring her features. She wasn't looking at me; her head was bowed low, her eyes fixed firmly on her own shoes.
"Let's go," I said, trying to sound like I hadn't just been having a mental breakdown. I took two steps into the hallway, but was stopped by the maid.
"Young master..."
Hmm... what does she want?
I turned back and looked at her. She was still staring at the floor, but her hands were twisting nervously in her apron. "Yeah?"
"Are you going to get there in that attire?"
That attire?
"What do you..."
I looked down at myself, and for the second time that night, my heart stopped for a completely different reason.
My eyes widened. My clothes were a disaster. I was still wearing the same tunic I'd had on when I fought Aries.
It was covered in gray dust, stained with soot, and the left sleeve was noticeably charred from a near-miss fireball.
Shit!
I'd been so focused on the purple screen that I completely forgot to change my clothes.
"…I'm really going to die from embarrassment before the Hero even shows up."