I Became the Mastermind Who Betrays the Heroines
Chapter 139

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]

Chapter 139 – Drunkard (3)

“What exactly was this experiment you mentioned?”

“It wasn’t anything directly harmful. All I did was stay nearby, observe your mana flow, collect leftover energy samples… things like that. It was more observation than experiment, really.”

“Data collection… In that case, it’s strange. Why only watch? Things would’ve gone much smoother if you’d taken a more direct approach. Even a dissection post-abduction would’ve yielded far more data. I don’t understand why you took such a passive stance.”

“…I don’t know, either.”

Faced with the pointed question, the woman murmured.

Perhaps it had been her final line.

Throughout her cooperation with the dark mages, the drunkard had never once directly harmed any students.

She had only passed along information and materials that the cult requested. In return, she was given tomes on resurrection or samples for her research.

Selena spoke quietly.

“I never meant to grow close to you, either. I told myself you were just a necessary sample... and yet…”

The distance between them had become far too short.

Even though she kept her demeanor cold, even though she drew clear boundaries—

The boy always drew closer.

And smiled, as if it didn’t matter.

That smile…

“That smile… reminded me of Lianne.”

The days now shrouded in monochrome rose vividly to her mind.

The drunkard had begun to waver.

The guilt that clung to her was so crushing that she could barely stay upright unless she was drunk.

Her inner self was brittle, ready to shatter at the slightest nudge.

Looks like it worked.

It had all been intentional.

From the beginning, I had deliberately acted in ways that would burden Selena with guilt.

Kind words. Subtle gestures. Proximity. And finally… a smile that mirrored her sister’s.

To keep her from running away from reality.

All this time, I’d been reaching for something inside her.

“…I’m sorry.”

And in the end, what filled her mind completely was guilt.

And what she was now facing…

Was me, sitting in a wheelchair.

A gaunt figure.

Pale from depleted vitality.

Yet still smiling, as if nothing was wrong.

To anyone who looked, I was clearly a critically ill patient.

The drunkard hadn’t been able to bear that reality.

“…I know I have no right to say this.”

The fact that someone had gotten hurt because of her decisions must have eaten away at her.

Especially when it was the student who had been closest to her.

The one who had always offered warm words.

In that sense, the toll taken on my vitality had proven useful.

It had pushed her deeper into this emotional breaking point.

Selena’s lips trembled.

The redness in them drained, streaked instead with resignation.

“…Perhaps, I saw Lianne in you, Yuda.”

“Was it… something like this?”

Snap—

I flicked my fingers lightly.

A flash of illusion shimmered.

In the next instant, what appeared before the woman wasn’t a blonde boy in a wheelchair…

But a violet-haired girl.

Exactly as she remembered her sister in those final days.

“Ah…”

Selena flinched for a moment.

But she quickly realized it was only an illusion and exhaled the breath she’d been holding.

The drunkard gripped the edge of the blanket tightly.

“You really don’t miss anything, do you?”

“You’re not asking how I knew what your sister looked like.”

“I’m in no position to question you about something like that.”

She bit her quivering lips.

A silence that dropped like a stone into a pit.

She’d been answering my questions all this time, but now she asked one of her own.

It was a question born of the nightmares that had haunted her for days.

Her eyes trembled.

“…Can I ask you just one thing?”

“Of course.”

“When I was caught in your hypnosis, Yuda… that dream—those faint memories I saw in between consciousness… were those illusions you carved into my mind?”

“Yes.”

Back during the attack—

When Selena had tried to stop me from charging into danger and had attempted to evacuate me to safety—

I had put her to sleep… and fed her a dream.

The contents?

What would have happened had everything followed the original script.

The vision of an Academy crushed by disaster.

The drunkard had wandered that hallucination for days on end.

Not even realizing it was a dream.

She had shed tears and blood, again and again.

“What did you see there?”

“…The Academy in ruins. I was sitting in front of it. Gathering shattered chunks of flesh, repeating over and over that I didn’t want this… that this wasn’t what I wanted…”

Of course—

I had hidden the part where the cult stabbed her in the back, and the truth behind Lianne’s death.

If she’d known, anger or betrayal might have diluted her regret.

I wanted her to suffer purely from the weight of her own sins.

To not even be allowed the grace of begging for forgiveness.

I had only shown her the consequences of her choices.

“In that case…”

This time, I asked the question.

What had she learned from those consequences?

“…How did it feel, when you woke up?”

“…I had a thought.”

Recalling the memory, her eyes clenched shut.

Dream or not, the illusion I had created was beyond the normal bounds.

Visuals, touch, smell… every sense would have retained it.

As if she had truly experienced it.

Corpses crushed beneath rubble.

Flesh and blood jammed beneath her fingernails.

The stench of smoke clinging to her nose.

The woman recalled those sensations clearly.

The warmth slowly draining from lifeless bodies.

The drunkard dropped her head, then spoke in a voice barely forced out.

Drip.

A thin line of tears trailed down her cheeks.

Tears of relief.

“…I was relieved.”

That it hadn’t been real.

That no lives had been lost.

That peace still lingered.

She had felt overwhelming relief.

She had whispered thank goodness again and again.

“I should’ve been worried about Lianne… I should’ve grieved the failure of the plan… but instead, I was just glad the students were alive, glad that the success of the resurrection had only been a dream… and I hated myself for being that kind of person…”

The mask of stoicism cracked apart.

Feelings she hadn’t realized she’d buried—

Guilt she had justified away with grief—

Now, awakened by the illusion I had planted, bloomed once more.

The buds of emotion began to flower. There was no stopping them now.

Her tears fell heavier with each breath.

“That’s when I realized.”

That I—

“…I love this place more than I thought I did.”

Blind love had clouded her eyes.

It had eroded her reason, her life, and even the love she should have directed elsewhere.

The drunkard had closed her eyes beneath the shadow of the one she had lost.

It wasn’t until she had destroyed everything else she loved—

That she realized she had loved it all along.

Foolish woman.

That was probably why Selena’s final regret hit so hard.

She hadn’t realized her love until it was too late.

Blinded by Lianne’s death,

She forgot her affection for the Academy, her mentor, her colleagues, her students…

Everything that had once given her warmth.

She betrayed those who had given her a home.

“I know. It’s far too late to go back. I’ve come too far.”

The woman spoke.

It would have been easier not to realize anything.

To just keep obsessing over her sister’s resurrection.

But she had seen other lights at the end of her long, straight road.

“…I lost my reason for betrayal. And yet… I missed Lianne so badly, I could barely stand it.”

Selena.

You and I had far too much in common.

No—You were me.

We had the same wounds. The same cracks in our souls.

We understood what grief after loss meant.

If it had been me…

Would I have done the same?

No… with my power, maybe I would’ve done something even more terrible.

That’s why I understood her.

That’s why—even as I rebuked her—I had hoped her ending wouldn’t be like mine.

Because my own had been utter destruction.

I’m sorry.

For the game-addicted life I’d thrown away in my past.

I didn’t want her to fall as far as I had.

“…What do you plan to do now?”

“…If I can’t go back, then I have to stop.”

I wanted to save you.

No—

I wanted to save the past version of myself, reflected in you.

Our gazes locked, two selves colliding in silence.

“I’ll end everything. I’ll take responsibility for it all.”

“And what does that responsibility mean?”

“…I can’t go against them. Not with the mana vow placed on my heart. But if it’s just tying up loose ends… I can still do that. Punishing them—and myself.”

“Don’t tell me…”

“Yes. That’s right.”

Her eyes, wet with tears, lowered.

As if she had already let go of everything.

She spoke as the tears rolled freely down her cheeks.

“I’m going to die.”

A declaration of suicide, spoken without drama.

Her crimson eyes were emptied—completely and utterly.

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]