Villain's Odyssey: Enslaving heroines, Conquering Villainesses Chapter 88: The Infirmary... Again

::ANGELICA IS THE VARIABLE. KILL HER BEFORE ’IT’ HAPPENS AGAIN!::

"Haah!" I gasped, springing up from the infirmary bed to find a familiar white ceiling staring back at .

Fuck.

What was that?

I looked around, and sure enough, I was in the infirmary. The reason I was able to realize this so quickly was that, as Azalea, I had been here over a thousand and one tis. In fact, I was here about four tis a week if ti permitted. There was always just that bully to encounter, that person to save that would nearly get killed, or that experint that blew up in my face. It’s a wonder I survived till this day. Well, that aside...

WHAT WAS THAT?

That voice... it was exactly like mine.

Is it... the altar?

Tsk.

I can’t tell, but it said sothing about killing Angelica. Could it be that bitch would be more trouble than I predicted? I an I know she’s one scheming bitch, but that voice sounded different. It sounded afraid. Terrified. Of her. I was terrified of her. What the hell is really happening?

The infirmary slled like antiseptic and lavender, a combination that always made my stomach turn. White curtains hung between the beds, creating little pockets of privacy that never felt private enough. The afternoon light filtered through tall windows, casting long shadows across the polished floor. Everything looked normal, but that voice kept echoing in my head.

"You’re awake," I heard, and it was now I actually realized Tracy was here. She was seated just beside , her expression sowhat dark and unreadable.

Damn.

I rember now.

Carlla.

It seems she shot with an arrow to the chest, but why would she do that? Her usually calm deanor had cracked completely when I approached her during training. One mont we were talking, the next mont her bow was drawn and an arrow was flying toward my chest.

Tsk.

Perhaps my words triggered her? Could I be right about what I was thinking then? Did she really change because of getting expelled from the advanced combat program?

Perhaps...

Or perhaps she was just annoyed about being noisy and decided to shoot. She did say she would make a mistake if I ca closer. Her hands had been shaking, I rember that now. Carlla never shook. She was one of the most composed people in our year, always precise, always in control. But sothing had broken in her that day.

"Sighs," I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

"Really? Don’t you have sothing to say?" Tracy asked in an annoyed and frustrated tone, to which I had no imdiate words.

I didn’t want to be soone who apologized for everything, even things I had no idea about. It would just make look weak in her eyes, and I would lose the little influence I could exert over her. I might not be strong yet, but I maintain a level of confidence that sowhat compensates for my weakness in her eyes. That’s why I’m able to cool her down when she goes full yandere mode... though I’m still not sure why she’s already obsessed with . I’ve barely done anything significant with her.

This whole situation reeks of red flags.

But anyway, as I was saying. Apologizing is good, but overdoing it is not ideal, as you constantly make yourself look weak. I definitely do not want that, given what I noticed in class when she caught staring at Maria. If I hadn’t been able to cool her down then and there, she would have slowly built this mindset that I was a weakling she could control at any mont, given she was literally more powerful than I was. However, since I stopped it early, she can still be managed now... wait, where am I going with all this.

Tracy’s dark hair fell in waves around her shoulders, and her green eyes held that intense look she got whenever she was worried about . She wore the standard academy uniform, but sohow she made it look elegant rather than institutional. The way she sat so close to my bed, the way her fingers kept fidgeting with the hem of her skirt - it all scread possessive concern.

"What happened?" I asked, to which she looked even more annoyed, but I gave a blind eye to that.

"You were trying to ask out Carlla and almost got killed, you pervert," she said, and I understood. It seems so people made quite the rumor about that incident. Well, I don’t really care. I only care about my targets, so any other person’s opinion about is equivalent to shit.

"That’s not what happened," I said, to which she folded her arms across her chest, pushing up her already generous cleavage. Not that I was looking. Much.

"Then tell , why did she almost kill you?" she asked, leaning forward slightly.

I thought deeply. I couldn’t say sothing stupid. How about this... "I was supposed to ask her for help with training since I just joined the club. When I approached her, she seed a bit... aggressive. I believe I unintentionally ntioned soone she lost, which wasn’t deliberate, but it seed to trigger her."

Tracy’s eyes widened, and for a mont her annoyed expression softened into sothing more understanding. "Oh," she muttered, then gave a complicated expression for a while, as if she was processing sothing.

"Well, what’s done is done. Just avoid her from now on."

"Why?" I asked, trying to sound confused.

"She literally tried to kill you, you know," she said with a blank look.

"...," I used my right to remain silent.

"Look, I don’t an to be deaning or sothing like that, but boy, are you weak," she said, and I felt like an arrow shot through my chest. I an, I know I’m weak, but to hear soone I’m supposed to be manipulating say it so bluntly is kind of... weird.

"This is all the more reason you should stick close to ," she suddenly said, her voice taking on a slightly possessive edge.

Oh?

"I wouldn’t have let her do this to you if I were there, but I wasn’t. So while I’m not around, you have to be mindful of the people you interact with. I can’t always be there, you... idiot, so stop trying to approach people who could kill you without even thinking about it!" she yelled, her cheeks flushing with what looked like genuine concern mixed with frustration.

I gave a strained smile and nodded. "Understood, ma’am."

Her face flushed red with indignation. "Tsk. Annoying." She folded her arms again, but this ti there was less anger and more embarrassnt in the gesture.

"You kinda look cute when you’re pissed," I delivered the classic dense-protagonist line, and she flushed red even more.

"Shut up!" she fud, but there was no real heat behind it.

"Sure," I said, and silence fell between us for a brief mont. The infirmary was quiet except for the distant sounds of students in the hallways and the soft ticking of the wall clock. Tracy’s breathing had cald down, and she was looking at with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

Until she finally broke the silence. "You keep promising a date, but it’s been so long already," she said, and there was sothing almost vulnerable in her voice.

I nodded. "Why don’t we go after this?"

"Like... right now?"

"If they’ll let leave... yeah," I smiled, and she looked genuinely happy for the first ti since I’d woken up.

Psycho.

But a cute psycho, I had to admit.

"But where would you like to go?" I asked. "I’m not really familiar with Elfla yet."

Her face lit up as she began talking about different places around the academy town. There was a small café that served amazing pastries, a bookstore that stayed open late, a park where students often went to practice magic away from prying eyes. As she talked, I replied occasionally, making jokes that seed to amuse her more than they should have. With ti, she was laughing at my terrible puns, and the atmosphere was getting warr and comfortable.

However, my mind wasn’t entirely present. It kept drifting back to that voice I’d heard upon waking.

Should I kill her?

...

...

"Vena," a young man with striking blue hair and matching eyes rushed forward to embrace the girl who had just been permitted to leave the infirmary.

"Kai?" she said, surprised. Before she could react properly, the young man hugged her tightly, his arms wrapping around her with a desperation that spoke of genuine fear and relief.

"You gave us a scare there," he said, his voice slightly muffled against her shoulder. She could feel the tension in his muscles, the way his hands trembled slightly where they rested against her back.

The young man - Kai - had always harbored feelings for her, feelings he dared not show, given how they were all raised. He was ant to be a killing machine, just the sa as she was. He wasn’t supposed to feel emotion; after all, that was considered inefficient by their handlers. But he did feel, despite trying his best to suppress it. He still did.

She was literally the only person he’d known since childhood, as all the others put through the training in their ’section’ had been eliminated, leaving only the two of them. The only reason he’d even survived their final test was because she didn’t kill him. It wasn’t that she couldn’t - he’d seen her move, seen the deadly grace with which she dispatched their fellow trainees. Instead, she had already killed enough to prove herself to the authorities. They were satisfied with her performance, so there really was no need to kill one more.

However, he still saw that mont as rcy, and it had changed everything for him.

They were trained to be heartless, to crave blood and feel nothing beyond the satisfaction of a completed mission. But at that crucial mont, as her bloodied sword rested against his neck, she hadn’t gone through with it. The blade had been steady in her hand, her breathing calm, her expression as unreadable as ever. But sothing had flickered in her eyes - just for a split second - and then she’d simply flicked her wrist. The sword flew in a perfect arc to embed itself in the far wall, and she’d walked away without a word.

Since that day, he’d genuinely co to care for her in ways that went far beyond their shared trauma. But he hid it carefully, burying those feelings deep where they couldn’t betray him. He couldn’t let her know, couldn’t afford to show weakness.

Why?

Because she would have killed him without hesitation.

As it was drilled into them daily: they were trained not to feel, only to kill.

He was perhaps the only anomaly in that entire project, the only one who’d retained sothing resembling a human heart.

She, on the other hand, was as unfeeling as stone. Perfect in her emptiness, exactly what their creators had wanted.

"Where are the others?" was all she asked, her voice flat and professional. No acknowledgnt of his concern, no recognition of the fear he’d felt when he heard she’d been injured.

He felt that familiar stab of pain in his chest, the one that ca whenever she reminded him just how little their shared past ant to her.

Why couldn’t life let him have just this one thing? This one thing he actually wanted?