I Am The Game's Villain
Chapter 637 - 637: [Event] [The Beauty And The Beast] [17] John Being A Wingman?

Celeste stood quietly inside the museum, her eyes locked on the floating projection before her—a grainy, holographic image replaying a key moment from the war against the Behemoth.

But while her gaze remained fixed on the brutal battle scene—soldiers shouting, mana blasts illuminating the sky—her mind wasn't really there. It had wandered far, to a place only she could reach.

To her dreams.

Ever since her awakening had begun, those hazy, surreal dreams had gradually grown more vivid, more coherent. They no longer slipped away like morning fog at first light. Now, she could see specific images—faces, places, even hear voices. And yet, the more she saw, the less she understood.

Because clarity, ironically, brought even more confusion.

There was always a woman in those dreams. A divine figure, otherworldly in appearance—her hair was as white as snow, her eyes almost luminous in their pallor. She looked like no one Celeste had ever met… and yet, there was a haunting familiarity in the curve of her face, the way she moved.

Like herself…

But what truly unsettled her—what made her chest tighten every time the dream returned—were the flashes of Amael.

He appeared different in her dreams. Younger, his features slightly altered, softer. And yet, she knew it was him.

She wanted to dismiss it as a delusion. A side-effect of her emotional turmoil since the day he had rejected her. Since that moment, she'd replayed every interaction, every glance, every word between them in her head. Over and over, until it all blurred into something painful and heavy.

But was that really all there was to it? Just heartache? Or was there something more? Some truth hidden beneath the surface?

She didn't know. Not yet. The only way to understand was to dive deeper into those dreams, to chase them to their core. But staying focused was hard—so damn hard—when everything in her real life was falling slightly out of place.

"Celes."

The voice snapped her out of her trance.

She turned around with a soft blink. "Yeah?"

Amelia was standing just behind her, arms casually crossed, but her eyes were sharp—sharper than Celeste would've liked.

She was her best friend. Which meant she noticed everything, especially when something was off.

And Celeste had been off lately. Ever since classes had resumed, there'd been a subtle shift in her.

Amelia had asked about it before, and Celeste had smiled and brushed it off like it was nothing. Like she wasn't breaking inside. But Amelia wasn't an idiot, nor was she blind.

Celeste's face, as much as she tried to hide it, betrayed her. Every little crack in her armor was obvious to the girl who knew her better than anyone else.

So, Amelia hadn't pushed. She didn't ask again. Instead, she chose to stand by her—quietly, patiently—hoping Celeste would open up when she was ready.

But as days passed, and the cheerful girl she loved like a sister continued to dim before her eyes, Amelia realized something.

She couldn't stay silent anymore.

Not when her best friend looked so heartbreakingly lost.

This time… she was going to get something.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on or not?" Amelia asked seriously.

Celeste blinked, trying to muster her usual smile. It came out awkward and stiff. "About what?"

"Come on, Celes. I'm not stupid. Something's eating you up inside. Did Amael say something? Did he hurt you?"

"No! Nothing like that!" Celeste answered quickly, maybe a little too quickly.

Amelia leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing. "Don't lie to me. He rejected you, didn't he? That's what this is about, right?"

Celeste didn't respond. She looked away instead.

Amelia's mouth dropped open slightly in disbelief. "I knew it," she muttered. Then louder, "How dare he! Seriously—he goes for Alvara of all people, and turns you down? What's actually wrong with him?!"

The disbelief in her voice wasn't forced—Amelia was genuinely outraged. To her, the idea of anyone rejecting Celeste was borderline insane. The girl had everything: beauty, kindness, even status... and yet here she was, quietly hurting because a boy couldn't see what was right in front of him.

"What reason could he even have?" Amelia continued. "Charm? Sure, I get it that Layla's hot. Even I'll admit that. There's just something about her, right? Like, she walks into a room and you feel it."

She threw her hands up. "But you—Celeste—you have something none of those girls do! Not Alvara, not Elizabeth, not even Layla! You're... you're radiant. You shine without trying."

Celeste shifted uncomfortably, her cheeks tinged pink. "A–Amelia..."

"No, let me finish. The only explanation is that he's a masochist," Amelia said as if she found the true of the universe. "Seriously, he must enjoy suffering. Why else would he pick girls like Alvara and Elizabeth over you?"

From down the hall, a new voice cut her off. "Why are you shouting again?"

John had wandered over, brow furrowed as he eyed the two girls. He didn't look amused.

Amelia gave him a dismissive look. "We were talking about your best friend, John."

John raised an eyebrow. "Best friend? I don't have one of those."

Amelia smirked. "Oh? Then what's Amael to you? Your spiritual big brother maybe?"

John's face twisted like he'd just bitten into something sour. "Like hell he is!"

The speed of his reply was honestly kind of hilarious. Even Celeste cracked a small, surprised smile at how fast he rejected the idea.

Still, Amelia wasn't done. She crossed her arms again and asked, "Then you tell me—do you know why he rejected Celeste?"

"Why would I know that?" John said with a grimace, clearly uncomfortable with where this was going.

"You've known him the longest," she said. "Even before he came to Sancta Vedelia. You two are always around each other."

John groaned, dragging a hand down his face. She had a point, even if he hated admitting it.

Still, it wasn't like he and Amael had ever been that close. Not really. Not in the way people assumed.

Back before Edward had regained Nyr's memories, John had found him downright despicable. After Oryanna's death, the guy had spiraled. He'd become a true trash. Not someone John could stand, let alone befriend.

And after he got those memories back? Sure, he wasn't despicable anymore… but now he was something else but still irritating in his own way.

So no—John didn't have some deep insight into Amael's love life. And honestly, the idea of discussing it made his skin crawl.

John wasn't an idiot. He had a pretty good idea why Edward had rejected Celeste—at least, a vague one. And it didn't take a genius to figure out that whatever was going on, it probably had something to do with that crisis Amael was stuck in.

He'd seen it before, after all. Hell, he'd gone through something similar himself after his mother passed away. It hadn't hit him as hard as it had Amael, though. What Amael was dealing with... it went deeper, more personal. Something that cut at the root of who he was.

"He's just a weirdo. Ignore him," John muttered at the end of his thoughts, waving the issue off with the sort of dismissive shrug he didn't actually feel.

He wasn't sure if it was his place to talk about Amael's identity crisis—hell, no, it probably wasn't. He hadn't even told Celeste about his past life yet, and John was honestly kind of surprised about that. If Amael was even thinking about starting something serious with her, he'd need to open up eventually. You can't build a future on lies and half-truths.

John, for his part, had already made up his mind. Once his business in Sancta Vedelia was over, he planned to come clean with Amelia. Reveal everything. Not that it'd be much of a surprise—Amelia was sharp. She probably already suspected something, and he'd dropped enough hints along the way that she had to be piecing things together by now.

But Edward? That guy was a complete enigma. John had no clue what he was doing—or what he was even trying to do. At times, he couldn't shake the feeling that Edward was hiding something incredibly important, something he wasn't ready to talk about. Something that mattered to him on a level John couldn't quite reach.

It was in the way Edward moved these days—detached, distant, almost like he was slowly preparing to say goodbye.

John's train of thought was abruptly derailed by Amelia's soft voice, tinged with frustration and worry.

"I can't just ignore my best friend being sad, John…"

He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair as he turned toward Celeste. She was quiet, eyes flickering downward with a conflicted look playing on her face.

"You really like that guy, huh? Edward?" He asked.

Celeste's cheeks turned a light shade of pink. She didn't answer right away. Instead, she looked away, hiding a faintly pained expression that said more than words ever could.

Even John, as dense as he could be, didn't miss that look. It was obvious—even from his perspective. The tension between her and Edward wasn't just some passing misunderstanding. There was something deeper going on. And for the life of him, John couldn't believe Edward had somehow ended up charming nearly every single one of the so-called Heroines around them.

Still, Amelia had asked him to do something, and he wasn't about to leave her hanging.

"He's just scared," John said flatly. "A coward, really. Too afraid of losing the people he actually cares about. If that kind of guy scares you—even a little—then maybe it's better to just walk away."

"I–I'm not scared of him!" Celeste shot back, a little too quickly.

John raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"If that was the only reason," she continued, her voice quieter now, more strained, "I've told him... again and again... that he doesn't need to be afraid about that. But he just... keeps avoiding me. Keeps pushing me away like I'm some kind of burden."

Her fists clenched in her lap, trembling slightly.

John didn't know what to say. He didn't have any answers either. From what he'd seen, Edward had been interested in Celeste from the start. Hell, the guy had practically 'seduced' her from day one—at least from John's point of view.

So why pull away now?

Had his feelings changed?

No. That didn't feel right. John was pretty damn sure Edward still liked her—probably more than he was willing to admit.

Which meant… there was something else. Something Edward hadn't told either of them.

Something big.

Until now, John had tried not to think too hard about it. He figured if Edward wasn't saying anything, then maybe it wasn't that important. But maybe he had it backward. Maybe it was exactly because of how serious it was… that Edward was keeping it hidden from everyone—even from him.

Maybe it was the war.

Maybe it had shaken Edward more than anyone realized. It had shaken John too after all—and he considered himself a pretty resilient guy. But even so, that didn't explain everything. Not really.

What bothered him most was hearing that Edward hadn't even returned to his kingdom after everything. He hadn't visited his family, hadn't reached out. Nothing. Just... silence. And that silence felt louder than anything else.

Then there were the messages John had gotten from Christina—messages that had come out of nowhere. Seriously, how the hell had she even gotten his number? He still hadn't figured that out. But what mattered more was what the messages said, or rather, what they hinted at.

Something had clearly happened between Edward, Christina, and Alea. Something big.

John originally assumed it was tied to Edward's past life. But that didn't quite make sense—they'd already talked about that stuff before. It wasn't new territory.

So… what changed?

His mind drifted to that time Edward had been judged by the Heads. That was around when things started to get weird. Distant. Had something happened back then that Edward hadn't told anyone about?

Usually, he'd open up to John about that kind of thing. At the very least, he would've ranted, dropped a few cryptic lines accompanied by jabs toward his relation with Amelia. But this time—nothing.

He was even distancing himself from Victor, and that was saying something.

Was it really just because he wanted to leave him and Victor with their girlfriends?

No. If it were something that petty, Edward wouldn't act like the world was ending. If he was keeping his distance… it had to be for something serious. Maybe even final.

But final in what sense?

Was this Edward's way of saying goodbye?

The thought crept in slowly.

Because in the game... the point where Edward's character had died was slowly approaching.

But that was in the game. This was reality. Wasn't it?

Why would Edward think he was going to die?

Unless—John's eyes flicked up to Celeste, standing quietly beside them, lost in her own thoughts.

'Don't tell me… he got a Prophecy or something?'

His thoughts were cut off by Amelia tugging at his sleeve, her voice snapping him back to the present.

"Oh, look! Speak of the devil!" She said, pointing.

Amael had just walked into view.

But he wasn't alone.

A woman walked beside him—masked who was definitely Roda, John knew it.

John narrowed his eyes.

"This guy…" He muttered under his breath.

He had been the loudest about all the dangers of breaking the timeline, about staying low and avoiding attention. And now here he was, casually walking into the museum with Roda on his arm like it was a damn date.

And not just any museum. The same one their classmates were in. The same one crazy Elizabeth—was prowling around.

But even that wasn't the biggest issue right now.

No. The worst part of this scene was Celeste.

"..."

She stood silently, eyes locked on Amael. Her face was calm—too calm—but her gaze said everything. The way Amael smiled at the masked girl… it was the kind of smile Celeste hadn't seen directed at her in a long time now.

A small, brittle smile pulled at her lips for a second before vanishing, like a crack in porcelain.

"S–Somewhat chilly here, isn't it?" Amelia murmured awkwardly, rubbing her arms as if the air had suddenly turned colder.

John grimaced. He could feel the tension swirling around them like a storm about to break. He took a cautious step away from Celeste and gently pulled Amelia along with him.

Yeah… this wasn't going to end well.

At this rate, the one who will kill Edward wouldn't be Lucifer nor would it be Eden.

It'd be one of his own women.

And John was starting to wonder if he'd live long enough to say 'I told you so'.