I'm a Villain in My Own Game?

[??? PoV]

Grenaut City—the center of the Duchy of Grenaut, ruled by Duke Reyes de Cavelina.

Even though it lay far from the capital, this region drew plenty of Imperial visitors, thanks to its many historic buildings and landmarks, such as Saint Velicia Cathedral, the Blackfire Dragon Museum, which housed the bones of the dragon defeated by the Legendary Hero Pendragon, and Vesemir Field, where Pendragon’s legendary battle with that dragon took place.

Right now, I’d just finished shopping for cooking ingredients at the city market. I ran an orphanage located on the outskirts of Grenaut City.

I’d named this orphanage La Nuevas, meaning ”a new beginning.”

I wanted this place to become the start of a different life for these unfortunate children, ones society couldn’t accept in this world.

Arriving at the orphanage, I opened the front door and locked it again behind me.

”Sister Giada! You’re back!?”

”What are you cooking today, Sister!?”

”I want cookies and milk!”

The moment I stepped in, the children living here rushed to greet me.

”Alright, alright, just wait a moment. Sister will make your favorite food.” I stroked the children’s hair and headed toward the kitchen.

Our group ran three orphanages within the Aragon Empire itself. One was located in the imperial capital, Terragon, and another in the Duchy of Jimena.

The children we cared for at La Nuevas numbered twelve. My colleague and I served as Sitters here, responsible for caring for and watching over these children.

”Hahaha! I’m flying! Sister, Thomas made me fly!”

I saw a young girl floating around inside the house. Her friend nearby was moving his hands, controlling the girl’s levitation.

—Crash!

But the girl’s fun was cut short as she suddenly slammed into a cabinet.

”Deana! Are you alright?” Thomas said, rushing to his friend’s side.

The girl got up and smiled at Thomas. ”I’m fine. Look! My body’s strong — hitting a cabinet won’t hurt me.”

Thomas was a ten-year-old boy with telekinetic ability. We’d found him six months ago in a village in the Kingdom of Britonia.

Meanwhile, Deana was a nine-year-old girl we’d found in the Kingdom of Weimar three years ago. She possessed incredible physical strength — even at her age, she could lift up to 300 kilograms.

”Thomas, I’ve told you to practice with small objects first before using your power on something big, especially your own friend,” I scolded him.

He simply hung his head, looking gloomy at my words.

”Sister! This isn’t Thomas’s fault — I asked him to use his power on me myself!” Deana defended Thomas.

I could only sigh, watching the two of them.

Every child at this orphanage was a Cursed Child. They’d been blessed with extraordinarily rare and powerful abilities, yet incredibly difficult to control.

”Alright, go play somewhere else, and don’t break anything, understood?”

They both nodded and left the kitchen area.

I lit the stove to heat water, preparing to make soup for the children’s dinner.

It had been exactly ten years since I joined this group.

I once had a younger brother. He was a good boy, my only remaining family after our father died in a monster attack.

When he turned seven, he came down with a severe, prolonged fever. At the time, I was still a teenager and didn’t know what to do.

In the end, I contacted a Priest from the Temple to help my brother.

After examining his condition, the Priest said my brother needed to be brought to the Temple immediately for proper treatment. But when I tried to accompany him wherever they’d take him, they stopped me.

They said only authorized personnel could be present during his treatment. I complied with the Priest’s words without much thought, my only concern being to heal my one remaining family member.

After that, I waited, but heard nothing at all about my brother, even after repeatedly asking the Temple. By the fifth day, I grew increasingly desperate.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from NovelPhoenix. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Maybe my brother had already died, and the priests simply didn’t want to break such terrible news to me. Still, I wanted to see him one last time.

But when I asked about my brother’s whereabouts again, they simply answered, ”The treatment process is still ongoing.”

I could only return home, alone, with no one to talk to.

The next day, two mysterious masked men suddenly showed up at my house. They said they could take me to see my brother again. But they warned me to prepare myself for what I was about to witness.

That night, the two mysterious men destroyed the Temple of Goddess Diana in this area, then brought me down to the Temple’s underground chamber.

I couldn’t believe what I saw down there — several children around my brother’s age.

They were chained, their bodies covered in countless scars.

The two mysterious men told me they’d been testing the emotional stability of children suspected of being Cursed Children. The goal was to trigger their powers to awaken, so the Temple’s authority would then have concrete evidence to justify punishing these children.

I saw my brother’s body, covered in blood, dried tears streaking his face. It was agonizing, knowing he’d been tortured this severely, and that I was the one who’d brought him to such a horrifying place.

In the end, of the seven children we found, only two managed to survive. We took those two children to the hideout of these two mysterious men.

At that moment, I swore before my brother’s grave that I would avenge what the Temple’s people had done to him and the other children. I would fight against this injustice and swore I would never let the same thing happen to another child again.

After that incident, I joined The Masquerade. But since I had no talent for combat or magic, I could only serve as a Sitter, caring for children labeled as Cursed Children.

I didn’t mind this at all.

I would always stay by their side. Even if the entire world refused to accept these children, I would always be their kind, loyal older sister, protecting them so what happened to my brother would never happen again to another child.

”Sister! Uncle Steven’s back! He brought Uncle Puppeteer and another man with him!”

I heard Deana’s voice from outside and washed my hands to welcome the Tracer and Performer assigned to this area.

Entering the living room, I saw a man in his thirties and two masked men.

”Giada, I’ve brought a new Performer,” Steven said.

I turned to look at the two masked men.

”How are you, Sister Giada?” Puppeteer greeted. ”Are the kids still as annoying as ever?”

”Nothing’s changed, Puppeteer. They’re always causing a ruckus,” I answered him.

Puppeteer was the Performer who’d recruited me back then. He and the previous wearer of The Fool’s mask were the ones who’d destroyed the Temple of Goddess Diana in the Duchy of Hernand and freed several captive Cursed Children.

I then looked at the man wearing the black mask, covering his face from nose to eyes, revealing a pair of green eyes.

”Greetings, Sister Giada,” the new Performer said. ”You can call me Joker. Pleasure to meet you.”

He offered a handshake. I took it and studied his face and build more closely.

Judging by his physical features, this Performer seemed quite young...

Maybe around 17 to 19 years old.

If my brother were still alive, he’d be about the same age as this man now.

Still, would he be capable of carrying out a Performer’s duties, at such a young age?

Within The Masquerade, a Performer’s role was the most difficult, since they had to face the Temple of Goddess Diana’s Aques authority directly.

Especially when facing Inquisitors, most of whom possessed abilities equal to veteran knights.

”Let’s discuss the new child we’re about to bring here,” Steven said. ”We need to move quickly, before the Temple’s people find them before we do.”

The three of us nodded at Steven’s words and headed to the living room.

Steven then explained about a child strongly suspected of being a Cursed Child, in a village located 40 km from this city.

Last month, he’d received information that this child had suffered a prolonged high fever, similar to what my brother had experienced before being taken to the Temple. But after a month of the fever refusing to break, the child had suddenly recovered, seemingly by miracle.

”After recovering from that fever, this child started frequently hurting other children her age,” Steven explained. ”I don’t think this is mere coincidence.”

”So, do you know what kind of power this child possesses?” Puppeteer asked.

”I still haven’t gotten any concrete information about her power — just uncertain rumors I’ve heard from there,” Steven answered, shaking his head.

It was extremely important to first know a Cursed Child’s power before adopting them and bringing them here.

If we got it wrong and approached the child improperly, we could lose their trust entirely, and they might refuse to come along peacefully, like the case with Deana before, who resisted so violently another Performer got hurt.

”Alright, we’ll head there now to assess the situation first,” Puppeteer said, standing up to leave.

Joker followed him, walking out of the orphanage.

I hoped everything would go well for both of them and for that child.

.

.

.

.

.

[Raul PoV]

After running for nearly two hours using Acceleration, we finally arrived at the village where the child lived.

I was... utterly exhausted...

”Just running 40 km and you’re already this out of breath,” Puppeteer mocked. ”How are you going to survive facing a large group of enemies if your stamina’s this poor?”

Easy, I’ll just run away instead of playing hero like some protagonist.

I wanted to answer him just like that, but it would only drag this out further.

”Look over there.” I pointed toward a group of children playing.

Right now, we were hiding to assess the situation around the village.

”Get away from us, you freak!” a boy shouted, shoving a girl to the ground.

”Why? I want to play with you too! Why are you all avoiding me?” the girl asked.

”Weren’t you the one who hurt Perun’s hand until he cried?” the boy shouted loudly.

Every child there stared at the girl with looks of hatred.

”I don’t know what you’re talking about, I never meant to hurt anyone!” the girl shouted, trying to defend herself.

”We don’t care. I don’t want my hand burned like Perun’s yesterday! Go far away from here!”

The girl could only lower her head and walk away from her friends.

She then sat on a swing, crying, biting her own lip to hold back the pain of being shunned by her peers.

—Crash!

Suddenly, the swing’s rope, gripped by the girl, snapped, sending her crashing to the ground, dirtying her clothes entirely.

She then ran toward the river, crying loudly.

Beside me, I saw Puppeteer clench his fist tightly — it seemed he’d witnessed this heartbreaking sight often before.

”Puppeteer, did you see that rope she was holding?” I asked him.

”Yes... it gave off smoke right before it snapped,” he answered quietly.

”I think I have some idea now of this child’s power,” I murmured, already working out a plan to persuade her to come to our orphanage.

”Hey, Puppeteer,” I called out to him.

”What is it?”

I smiled at him and said, ”Can you put on a theatrical performance?”