The Villain Professo Chapter 3: Where am I?

Huh...? I have died...?

I see... My obsession with fantastical things turned out to be rooted in the mories of my previous life and the curse still imprinted on my soul. Rembering those mories ended up breaking the curse, but the process, which involved using and creating mana, damaged my unprotected soul.

How ridiculous.

I could only laugh at my own pathetic state. In my first life, I was born with a curse, and now in my second life, I carried the sa curse despite finally being able to harness my potential in intellect and other fields.

How many people have I made miserable in both of my lives...?

Will they forgive , I wonder...?

As I pondered these thoughts, a strange sense of peace washed over . Perhaps it was the acceptance of my fate, or perhaps it was the hope that, sohow, I could make ands. But just as I felt myself slipping away, the voice spoke again.

Another chance? Could such a thing be possible? After all the harm I had caused, could I really be given the opportunity to set things right?

the voice replied as if reading my thoughts.

So I wouldn't know that I am Draven and won't have any recollection of my first life as Draven, but I could bring my second life's mories as Dravis when I'm back reincarnated as Draven?

I hesitated, the weight of my past mistakes bearing down on . But the thought of redemption, of making things right, was too powerful to ignore.

Especially... When the faces of those dear to

appeared in front of my face...

"Yes," I declared. "I would like to try again."

With that, I felt a surge of energy enveloping , pulling

away from the void and thrusting

back into the world I had once known.

___

!!!

Pant! Pant! Pant!

My chest felt heavy, my heart pounding as if I had been running a marathon. But this wasn't the result of physical exertion; it was a visceral fear gripping every part of my being. Why? I rembered entering the ga, feeling a surge of excitent before being consud by unbearable pain in my chest and head.

Wait. Where am I?

I scanned my surroundings, taking in the ornate room around . The walls were lined with rich, dark wood paneling, each piece intricately carved with patterns of vines and mythical creatures. Heavy velvet drapes, a deep shade of burgundy, hung from tall windows, filtering the sunlight and casting a warm, almost golden glow across the room.

A grand chandelier, adorned with glistening crystals, hung from the ceiling, its light reflecting in myriad directions, adding to the room's opulent atmosphere.

To my left, an enormous tapestry depicted a heroic battle scene, knights and mythical beasts locked in combat, their detailed expressions frozen in ti. The floor was covered with a lush, ornate rug, its intricate patterns blending seamlessly with the room's overall design. A massive wooden desk, cluttered with scrolls, books, and quills, stood against the far wall.

The scent of aged paper and ink mixed with a faint hint of incense, creating a strangely comforting aroma. To my right, a large canopy bed draped in rich fabrics looked inviting, the kind of bed that promised restful sleep and luxurious dreams.

As I tried to process everything, my mind raced with questions. What is this place? How did I get here? But more importantly, why did it all feel so hauntingly familiar? As I shifted my head, my thoughts ca to an abrupt halt as my reflection in the mirror entered my line of sight.

In the mirror stood a tall, imposing figure with an aura of authority and mystery. His jet-black hair was slicked back neatly, showcasing a face of sharp, angular features. High cheekbones and a strong, defined jawline frad piercing, deep-set erald green eyes that seed to hold secrets and a lingering sadness.

His thick, dark eyebrows were perfectly grood, arching slightly to give him a look of perpetual curiosity and intrigue. The faint scar above his left eyebrow added a touch of ruggedness to his otherwise flawless visage.

The figure was dressed in a long, tailored coat of deep black, the luxurious fabric shimring subtly under the light. Intricate silver embroidery adorned the cuffs, collar, and down the front of the coat, depicting arcane symbols and patterns that hinted at his magical prowess and noble status.

Beneath the coat, a high-collared shirt of fine black silk clung to his form, with delicate silver threadwork around the collar and cuffs adding an air of understated elegance. The coat fit him perfectly, accentuating his tall, lean fra and lending him a regal, commanding presence.

The final touch to his appearance was the array of ornate brooches and pins that adorned his coat, each embedded with small, gleaming gemstones. The most prominent brooch, with a large dark red gem, sat at his collar, serving as both a decorative piece and a potential magical artifact.

His trousers, made of rich, dark fabric, were tailored to fit snugly and tucked neatly into polished black leather boots that reached just below his knees. The entire ensemble exuded an air of sophistication and authority, befitting a man of his standing.

"This is the body that I've designed, but with more detail than I've organized..." I whispered, the realization hitting

with both awe and confusion. This was a character I had ticulously created for the ga, a reflection of the mory from my dream that I had envisioned for the in-ga character.

But how could I be inhabiting it so fully, feeling the fabric of the coat, the weight of the brooches, the slight pressure of the boots against my legs?

I believe that there should be no character-making in such a beginning of the ga. And it should be impossible to impersonate the ga's NPC, especially one of the area boss. Is this is a bug?

As I pondered this, a knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. "Lord Drakhan, are you awake?" a voice called from the other side, formal yet tinged with concern.

"Yes," I responded, the voice that ca out sounding both familiar and foreign. "Enter."

The door opened to reveal a young man in a butler's uniform, his expression a mix of relief and worry. "My lord, we were concerned when you did not rise at your usual ti. Is everything alright?"

There was too much detail in his movent. The AI we had designed for the characters was not this real. I was familiar with the design, and the visuals from the computer should have been quite similar. But this... he was too human.

I nodded slowly, still trying to piece everything together. "Yes, I just needed a mont. What is the schedule for today?"

The butler bowed slightly. "You have a class to attend in two hours, followed by an audience with several petitioners. Shall I prepare your breakfast, my lord?"

"Yes, thank you," I replied, dismissing him with a nod. As he left, closing the door quietly behind him, I turned back to the mirror. The reflection stared back at , a figure of power and nobility.

I narrowed my eyes, staring intently at the mirror. "Log out," I uttered.

I waited for several seconds, but nothing happened.

"I see... This is not a ga..." I carefully accepted the situation. I wasn't so foolish and dense not to recognize the gravity of what was happening. I didn't know what had transpired, but it was clear that I was now in the body of Draven Arcanum von Drakhan.

Suddenly, as if responding to my voice, a familiar sensation washed over , accompanied by an otherworldly voice that resonated in my ears.

The words floated before , glowing faintly in the air before fading away. Comprehension... a skill that seed apt, given my background in academia and research. It felt almost poetic, a bridge between my lives.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I'm the one who design this world, and if this world is the sa as what I've known, then I should be able to walk through this.

This is my reality now. I had to adapt, to learn, and to navigate this world with the knowledge and skills I had accumulated in my previous life. As Draven Arcanum von Drakhan.