Back at the hotel room, Herace debated whether to unceremoniously dump Luke onto the floor as a proper villain might.
In the end, he laid him on the bed. It was his way of expressing gratitude for briefly rekindling old memories.
He’d grown numb after a monotonous, drawn-out existence.
He doubted he’d experience anything similar again. In a way, he envied Luke, if only slightly.
‘Still, doing it again? No thanks.’
It’d be better to return to the Dimension Management Bureau, settle into mundane tasks, and delve into magical research.
A life filled with constant thrills might be exhilarating, but it was exhausting.
Herace left Luke alone and decided to explore this dimension’s magic by poring over grimoires.
How advanced could it be?
“Ahh!”
A sudden yelp interrupted Herace as he was absorbed in the grimoire.
The source was, of course, Luke.
Herace turned, annoyed at the disturbance.
“What now?”
Luke, somehow having slipped, was half-folded over the edge of the bed in an awkward position.
His legs were on the mattress, while his head was nearly touching the floor.
“My hand! You said you’d fix it! Look at it!”
Did he strain it trying to use it?
Herace clicked his tongue.
For a protagonist, he lacked any semblance of grace.
“You pulled such a reckless stunt I thought you might die. If you didn’t wake up, I figured I’d just toss you somewhere.”
“You jerk.”
Luke sneered.
“You did heal me, though. My arm’s fine, isn’t it?”
“I’m relieved to see you’re not a total lost cause, judging by your ability to think.”
“Why do you talk like that? Can’t you speak normally? And seriously, are you not going to finish healing me?”
“Patience. My mana isn’t limitless, you know?”
It wasn’t a lie.
Herace could’ve healed him immediately, but this was a story.
Dragging things out made for better entertainment.
“When, then?”
‘Now.’
A victorious protagonist deserved a proper reward scene.
That’s how it worked, especially in modern narratives.
Herace allowed a soft smile beneath his mask, his eyes crinkling enough to be noticed.
“You were reckless and foolish, but congratulations on succeeding. It seems you truly are the chosen one.”
“Wait, was that a compliment or an insult?”
Though he grumbled, Luke’s twitching lips betrayed his delight.
He was clearly pleased to be acknowledged, even if it came from the villain who had endangered him.
‘Desperate for recognition, huh?’
With that thought, Herace retrieved a healing potion from his subspace.
A glass vial filled with shimmering purple liquid appeared, glowing as he shook it.
“Open your mouth.”
“You’re not tricking me, are you?”
“I’m not.”
Still suspicious from previous encounters, Luke hesitated.
Herace, uninterested in persuading him gently, forced his mouth open and poured the potion in.
“Ugh…! Cough, cough!”
Luke shot a murderous glare, but it carried no real weight.
The anger dissipated as the potion worked its magic, and he stared in awe at his moving fingers.
“I-It’s working! I can move my hand!”
He flexed his fingers, then pushed himself upright on the bed, his face lighting up in excitement.
“It works! It really works!”
“It’s not like you lost the use of your hand for that long. Do you have to act so dramatic?”
“If you can’t empathize, shut up! Try losing your hand and see how you feel!”
Luke’s excitement grew.
He clenched and unclenched his hand, swung it through the air, and even started hopping around the room, elated.
To Herace, it was a ridiculous sight.
“Your hand wasn’t cut off. The tendons were damaged.”
“Same difference!”
Luke shot him a glare, clearly offended at the minimization of his suffering.
Yet, even as he glared, he kept testing his healed hand until—
Crash!
The sound of shattering interrupted his movements.
Luke froze.
“What was that? A statue? Why’s it so fragile?!”
“Don’t blame the statue. You’re the one who broke it.”
“….”
Luke grew quiet.
“How much do you think it’s worth?”
“Not a hundred million gold, surely. Don’t worry about it.”
With a wave of magic, Herace repaired the statue.
Luke, who had been crouched in guilt, brightened instantly.
Then, realizing how pitiful he looked, he quickly scowled again.
Straightening up, he hesitated before speaking.
“Hey, um….”
“What?”
“My hand.”
“What about it? Is it not working properly?”
“No, it’s fine!”
Then what was the issue?
“If you’ve got something to say, just spit it out.”
“I just… uh….”
“Don’t stutter. Speak clearly.”
“Thank you… for fixing my hand.”
Herace blinked, momentarily doubting his ears.
“What did you just say?”
“Ah, I already told you earlier! I don’t repeat myself!”
“Don’t act all high and mighty. I just thought I heard wrong.”
“Then go clean your ears!”
Luke’s face turned bright red.
Only after seeing him act overly embarrassed did Herace realize that what he had heard was true.
“Did you really just say thank you?”
“Go away!”
It was true.
“……”
The unexpected words made Herace hesitate.
‘Why is he thanking me?’
There was no reason to thank me, right?
If anything, I should be the one thanking him for fixing the statue I broke earlier.
Herace had set a condition for helping Luke achieve what he wanted, and Luke had fulfilled it on his own.
So, in a way, he had earned his wish through his own efforts.
There’s no need to thank a villain for that.
It would actually be problematic to get too attached to a villain.
Herace watched Luke’s expression, trying to read his emotions.
Luke’s face was one of shameless irritation, as if saying, “What are you staring at?”
He didn’t seem to have any favorable feelings toward Herace.
‘Is he trying to lower my guard and make a run for it?’
That seemed plausible.
But even if it was an act, it was still cute the way he stuttered and blushed while saying thanks.
It had that fresh, early-stage vibe.
Herace couldn’t help but smile a little.
“Alright, I get it.”
“What’s with that disgusting voice?”
No, never mind, it wasn’t cute at all.
“If you don’t like my voice, I’ll make sure you never hear it again.”
“I didn’t say anything like that! Seriously, your personality is the worst…”
“Is that something you should be saying? Didn’t you get kicked out of your family because of your awful personality? With that temper, who’s going to love you in the future?”
Since Herace was already playing the villain role, he let the insults fly.
Though three very different heroines would eventually get attached to Luke, at the moment, he wasn’t wrong.
Luke fell silent, his body shaking in frustration.
“…I never wanted that, so drop it!”
“Lie.”
“You don’t know anything about me! And I’m hungry!”
Saying he never wanted love was a lie, but the hunger part sounded genuine.
He had practically been asleep all day, so of course he’d be hungry.
“Alright, I understand.”
Without saying much more, Herace ordered room service.
The state bar would also require a battle with certain monsters to gain.
Only if his condition was good would he survive and gain some fortune.
When the food arrived, Luke eagerly sat at the table and started eating with his own hands.
He was so moved by the simple act of eating that his eyes even reddened a bit.
Herace decided to just ignore it.
“You’re eating it so happily.”
“It’s delicious.”
Well, when you compare the food a slave eats to hotel room service, it’s natural to have a huge difference.
“Eat something too.”
“I don’t need to eat human food.”
“Still…”
Luke hesitated for a moment.
“The food you ordered last time, I ate all of it. Don’t you remember?”
Was he talking about the cabbage stew?
Herace blinked in surprise.
Although he had mistaken it for room service, he hadn’t expected Luke to care enough to pay attention to his preferences and act kindly.
Earlier, Luke had even sincerely said thanks.
‘Is he… really a bad boy?’
Luke Clayton was supposed to be a wild and unruly villain who would clash with the heroes.
He should have been delivering punchy, decisive moments like the main character, but here he was, caring about the villain’s situation.
‘Maybe it’s because we’re still in the early stages?’
He would likely become fiercer as things progressed.
After all, challenges were meant to make protagonists stronger, weren’t they?
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