Villainous Me: Help! The heroines are yanderes!
Chapter 62: Assessment begins[GTG]

Chapter 62: Chapter 62: Assessment begins[GTG]

The instructor’s grin was a predator’s, devoid of warmth despite the amusement glinting in his eyes. "This," he declared, his voice heavy with sadistic glee, "will be your first official assessment since joining this esteemed academy. Don’t expect any kindness – I made this exam a nightmare, just like I promised." A wide, toothy smile stretched across his face, revealing far too many gleaming teeth. "And to make things even more ’special,’" he added, his voice dripping with mock sincerity, "I designed it myself."

He cleared his throat, the cruel amusement still lingering in his voice. "Listen closely, maggots," he barked, his tone shifting from playful to drill sergeant, "because these are the rules. You’ll be graded based on points you gather – no limit there. However, harming your fellow worms is strictly prohibited, and breaking any rule will result in swift and severe point deductions. Normally, you’d respawn near your team after, well, kicking the bucket. But not this time. I’ve made certain you’ll all rematerialize scattered far and wide, completely isolated." With a booming laugh that echoed through the room, he gestured towards the pods, each containing a headgear that resembled a metallic spider clinging ominously. "Good luck, everyone! You’re going to need it."

Ryan, ever the pragmatist, knew this wouldn’t be a walk in the park. Stepping into his transparent pod, he examined the unfamiliar mechanical connectors with a practiced eye. As the headgear settled on his head, the instructor’s voice boomed once more, "You’ll be trapped in this virtual world for a whole month!" A collective gasp rippled through the room. A month of simulated reality was daunting, to say the least. The implications of being trapped in a world that felt real for such an extended period sent shivers down spines.

Ignoring the murmurs of discontent and the prickling unease that settled in the pit of his stomach, the instructor continued. "Time flows differently here. We can’t monitor your every move, but those watches track any rule-breaking. Consider them a constant reminder that Big Brother is always watching, even in a virtual world." The next instant, Ryan’s vision blurred, and he plunged into blackness.

He awoke with a gasp, finding himself amidst the ruins of a city that looked like it had been ravaged by a war. Broken buildings, their skeletal frames reaching for the sky like skeletal fingers, and smashed cars, their twisted metal carcasses littering the dusty streets – a wasteland stretched before him. Wasting no time, he bolted towards a building, his instincts honed by countless hours spent in virtual battlegrounds. He couldn’t afford a repeat of his previous virtual experience, where he’d been woefully unprepared.

With a single, powerful kick that echoed through the desolate cityscape, he shattered the door and entered the derelict house. Plush chairs, now charred remnants of their former glory, and a smashed TV littered with flowers, an unsettling juxtaposition, painted a picture of devastation. He crept towards the window, its shattered glass offering a precarious view of the wasteland. Seeing no immediate threat, he slumped against the rough brick wall, his mind racing with strategies.

One thing was clear – he was utterly alone. Reuniting with his team wasn’t an option, not yet. He had to rely on himself for everything – food, shelter, and those darn points – for the entire month. A wry smile touched his lips. "Well," he muttered, pushing himself to his feet, a spark of determination flickering in his eyes, "at least it won’t be boring."

***

Across the desolate cityscape sprawled another scene entirely—a young man with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes, their intense gaze ablaze with a fierce, simmering anger. Before he could even process his surroundings, he found himself embroiled in a brutal clash with a powerful adversary he’d encountered purely by unlucky chance.

"Just my damn luck," he muttered under his breath, his voice edged with grit and frustration. He lunged forward with his spear, every movement sharp and disciplined, the honed instincts of countless battles guiding his every thrust and parry.

Barely a minute had passed since he’d respawned. His only intent had been to find a quiet corner, someplace to clear his head, to recover from the wounds of his last fight—the bruises, and the scars left deeper still. But fate, it seemed, had a different plan. Someone else had just respawned nearby, and from the steely glint in her eyes, it was clear she wasn’t interested in sharing this digital battleground.

"Is this all you’ve got?" taunted the girl, her long blonde hair flowing as she moved, her own sharp blue eyes gleaming coldly. She dodged his strikes with effortless grace, a mocking smile tugging at her lips, sparking a fierce surge of frustration in him. "I expected more of a challenge from you."

The frustration rose within him, an uncontainable tide of resentment. "Shut up and die!" he roared, his desperation echoing in his voice. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. There was a time when they were all on the same level—the three musketeers of mediocrity, bound together by their shared place at the bottom of the ranks. Back then, they’d felt no pressure to be exceptional, no constant need to improve. But things had changed.

Lucas had transformed, seemingly overnight, into an unparalleled talent. Ryan, his once-close friend, had been swept into admiration of the most sought-after girls in their class. It was as if they’d become celestial bodies with their own gravitational pulls, drifting in orbits that no longer intersected with his. Lucas, once his comrade, now wore an enigmatic distance, his gaze rarely finding him. And Ryan—he’d gone from loyal friend to stranger, leaving him feeling stranded, a lone asteroid drifting in an endless void.

The betrayal lingered, raw and aching, like an open wound. He remembered the day Ryan had disappeared, how worry had gnawed at him like a feral beast. Relief had come only when Ryan returned, bringing a fragile spark of hope. But something had changed—Ryan had changed, grown distant, and, worse, he wasn’t even allowed to meet anymore. Even the girls who used to ignore Ryan were now gravitating toward him, leaving him feeling isolated and left behind.

It was maddening. Ryan had always been the weaker one, the follower. Why was he the one left to struggle alone now? He lunged again, his spear slashing with all the fury he could summon. But the girl, with almost supernatural speed, dodged and laughed, a mocking glint in her eyes. He braced for her next move when, suddenly, a blinding pain tore through his chest. He looked down, wide-eyed, as her dagger’s tip protruded from his heart.

The world around him disintegrated into a swirling mass of pixels, his vision splintering.

"Where are you, Ryan?" the girl murmured, her voice drifting into the empty, barren landscape as his form faded from view.