Villain's Odyssey: Enslaving heroines, Conquering Villainesses
Chapter 60: The Awkward Confrontation

Chapter 60: Chapter 60: The Awkward Confrontation

Creak

The door swung open and she found... no one?

She frowned at this sight have expecting someone to jump out from the corner. But she saw no one.

"Eh...? Where is the guy?" Natalia asked, hoping it wasn’t just her imagination and she hadn’t done all that for nothing.

"You done?" she heard, then turned to find Asher leaning casually beside the door. He had his arms folded, one leg raised and placed against the wall, while his eyes remained closed as he faced upward in a picture of studied nonchalance.

"Um... sorry about that," she said with an awkward giggle, really finding this whole atmosphere uncomfortable, there was just something about the young man that set her off.

"Are you done?" he asked instead of acknowledging her apology, and somehow his calm tone made the atmosphere ten times more unbearable.

She noticed immediately that the approachable young man from her first door-opening had vanished completely. In his place stood someone who radiated the kind of controlled irritation that suggested her panicked door-slamming had not been well-received.

Petty, she thought, her own annoyance beginning to rise in response. So what if she’d slammed the door on him? It wasn’t her fault he’d caught her completely off guard! Any reasonable person would understand that girls don’t appreciate unexpected intrusions into their private spaces. If she’d been warned about this beforehand and still reacted badly, then maybe—maybe—it would have been her fault. But this time? Definitely not.

And it wasn’t even intentional! I even apologized! she grumbled internally. There’s no reason to act like such a jerk about it.

Was she being unreasonable? That wasn’t even a question worth asking.

Was she aware she was being unreasonable? Well... that would be a definite no.

She folded her arms and took a deep breath, centering herself before asking the question she probably should have led with instead of stress-cleaning her entire room: "Can I see some proof?"

The young man pushed himself off the wall with fluid grace, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Pardon?"

"Can I see your ID card or something—anything that proves you were actually assigned here?" She let her voice turn cold and professional, adopting the kind of tone that brooked no nonsense.

The worst thing you could do in front of a guy was appear easy or gullible. She’d learned that lesson the hard way during her first year, when her previous roommate had turned out to be a complete degenerate. At first, the guy had seemed normal enough, even charming. She’d actually hoped they could become good friends, considering they’d be sharing such close quarters.

But no. Not only had the idiot taken her kindness for granted in the most disgusting way possible, but he’d eventually tried to force himself on her. She’d dealt with him decisively—so decisively, in fact, that she’d been suspended for a whole month while the disciplinary committee sorted through the aftermath. What exactly had she done to him? Well, let’s just say she’d made sure he’d never again be able to lust after anyone.

What? He’d deserved it. She’d even discovered that the pervert had been stealing her underwear for his own twisted purposes. It was because of that traumatic experience that she’d developed her current defensive stance against strangers, especially male ones.

"I don’t have it," Asher said simply, and she felt her eye twitch.

"What do you mean you don’t have it?" Her annoyance was climbing toward genuine anger now. Was this some kind of elaborate prank? Because if it was, she’d make sure he understood exactly how hilarious she found it.

"Just what I said—I don’t have it."

But the young man appeared to be carved from stone. He didn’t seem affected by her domineering front in the slightest, even though she was clearly stronger than him. She could sense it through her magical perception—he was strangely weak for someone who should be a third-year student. That was part of why she felt so confident challenging him; he was obviously small fry in terms of raw power.

Well, not entirely small fry. Did he trade his strength for good looks or something? she wondered, because honestly, he was just too handsome for his own good. In fact, it was getting genuinely irritating. For as long as she’d known herself, she’d never been the type to be swayed by appearances. Given her traumatic experience with boys during her first year, she’d grown increasingly prejudiced against them and was probably only a few bad encounters away from becoming a complete man-hater.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that not even the most handsome man in the world could affect her judgment at this point. Well, that had been the theory until about five minutes ago.

"Are you... are you actually serious right now?" she asked, genuinely shocked by his boldness. He’d just walked up to her room and declared himself her roommate with absolutely no evidence whatsoever.

"Look," he said with a long sigh, "if you don’t believe me, we can always head to the admin block to clear this up. But I suggest you wear something... else first."

His eyes trailed downward as he spoke, and she automatically followed his gaze. When she saw what he was looking at, she froze completely.

Her jacket’s zipper had been pulled down far too low for comfort, revealing her thin white undershirt beneath. The problem was—the very big problem was—that in her rush to clean up the room, she’d never put her bra back on.

"..."

The realization hit her like a physical blow. Through the thin fabric of her shirt, everything was clearly visible. She’d been standing there arguing with this infuriatingly handsome stranger while essentially flashing him.

BAM!

This time, she couldn’t even pretend it wasn’t her fault.

The door slammed shut with enough force to rattle the hinges, and she pressed her back against it, face burning with the kind of mortification that would probably haunt her dreams for weeks.

"Oh my god," she whispered to the empty room, sliding down the door until she was sitting on the floor.

Outside, she could hear his voice, muffled but still annoyingly calm: "Take your time. I’ll be here."

She buried her face in her hands and wondered if it was possible to die from embarrassment. Because if it was, she was definitely about to become the first recorded case.