Young Master's PoV: Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day

Chapter 495: After Getting Betrayed By My Best Friend And Girlfriend, I Found A Dying Heiress In The Hallway!

“Get out of here! Don’t ever show me your face!”

“You’re dead to us, you rascal! Go be a dog for Theosbane! That’s all you’re good for anyway— being someone’s lackey!”

Ivan sighed, not even bothering to dodge the heap of clothes being hurled at him.

A shirt struck him in the face. He pulled it off, glanced at it, then folded it over his arm. “Is this really necessary?”

A pair of shorts flew past his head.

So it was necessary.

His ex-girlfriend Irina and his ex-best friend Viktor seemed to have decided that throwing all his belongings at him was a more appropriate way of communicating their feelings than simply asking him to leave.

Fair enough.

As soon as they were discharged from the medical ward, the two of them came down to their shared apartment and practically kicked Ivan out the door along with all his stuff.

Honestly, Ivan had been expecting this drama. He was even prepared for it.

But what he wasn’t prepared for was the sheer amount of clothing they were throwing.

Where the hell had they even gotten all of this?

Another shirt flew through the doorway. Ivan caught it with one hand. Then a jacket, and then yet another shirt before a pair of trousers followed.

Okay, seriously, were all these clothes really his? He never realized he owned this many.

A boot came flying for his face next. Ivan sidestepped it. “Thanks. Can you guys throw the other one, too?”

Irina’s face twisted with fury. “Fuck you!”

She let out a string of some very colorful curses in their native language before finally slamming the door in Ivan’s face.

“Come on, guys.” Ivan rolled his eyes, more exhausted than anything. “It was just a game. Vik, I didn’t mean anything I said.”

“Die!” came Viktor’s voice from the other side of the door. “You meant every word! Just die!”

Ivan stared at the closed door before sighing once more. He then looked down at the pile of clothes in his arms.

At least they didn’t throw his underwear.

That would’ve been awkward.

The teen silently bent down and picked up the remaining clothes scattered across the hallway before gathering everything into one massive bundle.

His apartment building’s hallway was strangely quiet. Probably because everyone had heard the screaming and decided it was safer not to come outside.

Smart.

Once he was done, Ivan turned on his heel and started walking. Viktor was right. Ivan had meant every word he had said. Even if he could, he would not take them back.

But there was a slight problem.

The Academy was experiencing a shortage of dormitory rooms.

Which meant Ivan couldn’t simply move into one of the empty residential buildings because there were no empty residential buildings anywhere.

He had already checked. Twice.

The first time, the staffer apologized and told him that every available room had been occupied.

The second time, the staffer looked at Ivan with pity and said the most he could do was arrange a shared room for him on Zephyros Street.

Now, Ivan firmly believed that what he did in the Mock War wasn’t wrong.

But if it was a choice between living on Zephyros Street and swallowing his pride so he could beg his former friends for a place to stay… he’d beg.

Unfortunately, they didn’t seem to be in the mood to forgive him. Or even let him sleep on the couch.

“Arghh,” Ivan groaned, carrying the stack of clothes. “Should I just go and threaten that staffer?”

The staffer had been rather unhelpful.

And Ivan was currently homeless.

Those two facts seemed sufficient to justify a little intimidation.

Following that line of thought, he took a right turn around the corner… and immediately tripped over something.

“Whoa—!” was all Ivan had the chance to squeal out before his foot slipped off whatever was lying in the middle of the hallway there, sending him stumbling forward.

The mountain of clothes flew out of his arms. He could barely throw his hands out to catch himself before his shoulder and skull slammed into the wall beside him.

—Thwack!

“Ow.” He stayed there for a moment, awkwardly bent, forehead resting against the cold stone of the hallway wall.

Then he slowly pushed himself upright, rubbing the side of his head.

“Fantastic.” Apparently, getting kicked out of his own apartment wasn’t enough humiliation for one day. Now the Academy wanted him to trip over its floor, too.

Ivan turned around to see what the hell he’d just stumbled over, but froze when his eyes found the object.

Because the object in question was… a girl.

Yes. There was a living, breathing girl lying in the middle of the hallway.

At first, Ivan thought she was simply sleeping… as strange as that would’ve been.

She was lying completely still, her body curled on its side. Long, silky blue hair spilled across the floor around her like a sheet of water.

She was slim and supple, dressed in a white patient gown from the medical ward. It was possible she was recently discharged.

But something was wrong.

Ivan’s expression slowly changed as he crouched next to her.

The girl’s eyes were tightly shut, and her breathing was so faint that he almost couldn’t see her chest moving. On top of that, her lips were turning blue. So were her cheeks.

This wasn’t sleep.

She was unconscious. And judging by the color draining from her face, she wasn’t exactly doing well.

Obviously, Ivan recognized the girl as soon as he saw her.

It was none other than Casey Torr Snowrite.

•••

Casey jerked awake, breath hitching and chest heaving. For several long seconds, she had absolutely no idea what was happening.

Her vision was blurry, her thoughts sluggish, and her entire body felt as though it was run over by a truck.

Huffing and puffing, wheezing and coughing, she kept lying there like she had just finished running a marathon.

The sheets beneath her were damp with sweat, clinging uncomfortably to her skin as she stared up blankly at the ceiling.

She tried to move, but nothing happened.

Well, not nothing. Her fingers twitched slightly, yet even that tiny movement felt like it required an absurd amount of effort.

What… happened?

Casey slowly turned her head, and the familiar walls of her bedroom gradually came into focus.

It was her apartment. She was in her own bed.

That… only made things more confusing.

The last thing she remembered was leaving the medical ward.

She had insisted on being discharged prematurely because she couldn’t risk staying there any longer. The doctors had already asked too many questions, and Casey had no intention of explaining how she’d been poisoned.

She remembered walking back to her apartment.

She remembered reaching for the door.

After that…

Uhh…

What happened after that?

She couldn’t remember.

Wait. Had she passed out at her doorstep?

Casey frowned, trying to force her memories into some kind of order.

No. If she had collapsed outside her apartment, someone would’ve found her and reported the incident to the staff.

She was fairly certain she hadn’t somehow crawled into bed while unconscious, either.

So how had she gotten here?

And why did her ribs hurt more than the rest of her body? It felt like someone had stomped on them.

Coughing a couple more times, she slowly tried to sit up, but her arms immediately gave out. She fell back against the pillow with a weak gasp, staring up at the ceiling again in disbelief.

Great. Just great.

Even sitting up was beyond her capabilities now.

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a few slow breaths. That was when she noticed… a scent. A very enticing scent.

Casey’s nose twitched.

It was warm and savory, with the unmistakable aroma of spices and herbs and something else she couldn’t quite identify.

The scent seemed to have seeped into every corner of the apartment, drifting in from the other side of her bedroom door and making her stomach rumble.

Was… someone in her kitchen?

Casey looked at the door. Then, she gathered whatever little strength she had left and tried to sit up again, this time managing to prop herself against the headboard.

Her heart was already beginning to race from the effort.

Just as she was about to call out to the intruder, the bedroom door suddenly swung open and in came a boy.

Short brownish hair, large round spectacles resting over his eyes. Slumped shoulders, meek expression, and average height. He had a rather unassuming appearance, not exactly plain but not far from it either.

Yet, as soon as Casey’s eyes took him in, a flood of memories came rushing back into her mind. “I-Ivan…?”

Her voice came out as little more than a hoarse whisper. Only then did Casey realize just how sore her throat really was.

Ivan, meanwhile, didn’t give her even half a second to process his presence.

“Oh, you’re awake. Good.” He walked toward her bed, and Casey’s eyes widened when she saw he was carrying a steaming bowl.

The smell she’d been noticing all this time suddenly became much stronger.

“I went through your fridge; hope you don’t mind,” said her guest before carefully setting down the hot bowl on her lap. “There was no chicken, so I ordered some and made you soup.”