The Villain in the Novel Lives as the Second Best at the Academy

My father wasn't like that from the beginning.

When my mother was still alive, he was at least someone who thought of family first.

My mother had been sick for a long time. At first, I thought it was just a mild cold. But the coughing became more frequent, her appetite decreased, and eventually she couldn't even get out of bed.

The hospital bills were at an unbearable level. As her condition worsened, my father spoke less and less.

Then, one day.

My mother was no longer breathing.

I remained silent, and my father collapsed.

That's when it started.

Alcohol and gambling entered our home. My father came home late every night and drank, and unmanageable debts piled up.

At first, he seemed to just spend time listlessly, but gradually he started to get irritated. He would get angry over small things, and eventually his hand was raised.

I mostly endured the beatings. In fact, I was used to being hit. I thought if I could take it, at least my little sister would be hurt less.

I thought I just had to endure and bear it. But I didn't know.

That violence becomes rougher with time.

And that those hands wouldn't stop with me.

That day, my father was especially drunk. Disheveled clothes, unsteady gait, hollow eyes. It was a familiar sight. But when my little sister accidentally dropped a cup in front of my father, the atmosphere changed.

I moved immediately. No, I tried to move.

But my father was faster than me.

At a distance beyond my reach, my little sister was being hit by my father.

I instinctively realized that this couldn't continue. And—

I still remember that moment. I slowly stretched out my arm. My fingertips were almost, but not quite, reaching. But it was too late.

The small body collapsed to the floor.

She didn't move.

I couldn't scream or run to her. I just crawled on the floor, reaching out. My fingertips were almost, but not quite, reaching. But it was too late.

After that day, the air in the house sank heavily.

My father became quiet. And a few days later, he was arrested by the police. I just remained still. My knees were numb, and my fingertips were cold.

My father went to prison. I was left alone.

After that, I just... existed.

I didn't go to school. I didn't go outside.

Instead, I read novels in my room. The world in the stories was quiet, warm, and beyond my reach.

There, no one got hurt. No one died.

The last time, I went up to the rooftop of the apartment.

Fortunately, the door wasn't locked.

And naturally, I closed my eyes.

○

...When I opened my eyes, the first sensation was the moist feeling trickling down the nape of my neck. It was sweat.

My body felt strange. Something was wrong.

When I tried to move my arms, I heard the clanking of iron chains. My wrists were bound.

I took a deep breath. An acrid smell stung my nose. The smell of blood, stagnant water, and dried blood.

"Looks like you're awake."

An unfamiliar voice was heard.

I turned my head.

A man with rough skin, short-cropped hair, and sharp eyes was looking down at me. Behind him, other children were crouched down. All of them with thin bodies, terrified expressions, and torn clothes.

And me as well.

I looked down at my body.

It was young. Too young. My hands were small, and my legs were scrawny. A body too thin, too exposed.

"...What is this."

A voice came out. But it wasn't my voice. Too high, too small.

I couldn't understand.

"Did they pawn off a sick one again?"

Another man's voice was heard.

"Don't know. If it dies, we just throw it away."

The men spoke dismissively.

My mind went blank.

I couldn't understand where this was, why I was here, nothing.

The only thing certain was:

I am now being sold.

But to where?

'The last memory I have is clearly being on the rooftop...'

Even amid all this disorder, there was something I couldn't feel.

A dirty, sticky sensation clung to my entire body, but the weight that should have been there was missing.

My lower body felt strangely empty.

Something was wrong.

I tried to move my hands, but the chains rattled. I was bound. My body was so weakened by hunger that I couldn't properly feel sensations. But the emptiness, as if something had escaped, was certain.

It was unfamiliar. An alien sensation.

I lowered my gaze.

Only then did I realize.

It was gone.

Something that should have been there, something that should naturally exist, had disappeared.

Despite such a shock, before I could gather my thoughts, the iron chains were roughly pulled.

"Get down."

I was dragged away without being able to say anything. My body felt heavy. No, my mind felt heavy. The ground beneath my feet swayed. Even trying to exert strength, it was difficult to stand properly. But I couldn't refuse.

Clank—

My feet touched the ground. It was a sandy floor under the blazing sun. The pungent smell of dust and sweat mixed together stung my nose. And—

Dozens of eyes were looking at me.

Children bound here and there, people starved to the bone, some were crying, others sitting as if they had given up. The sound of chains being dragged could be heard from all around.

"That young one looks quite usable?"

"It's still not skinny enough. Kids like that die before you can put them to work."

"Still, it looks worth the face value. Was it some noble's child that was abandoned?"

Noble? I am not a noble.

No, who am I in the first place?

My mind went blank. Everything was distorted. I looked down at my hands. They were thin. Once again, I ran my hand over my throat. It wasn't there. I looked down. The familiar presence was now gone.

The unfamiliar sensation and reality overlapped. My heart was beating wildly.

"Don't just stand there gawking, walk!"

Clank, the iron chain around my neck was pulled forcefully. I staggered forward.

And only then did I realize.

I am now a slave.

○

The iron chains rattled.

The cold metal around my neck dug into my flesh. The same chains were wrapped around my arms and ankles. Even a slight movement of the wrist caused a scraping sound that clawed at my ears.

There is no way to escape from here.

By now I should be used to it, but I still kept repeating this thought.

My feet were stepping on a rough, damp floor. Blood and waste flowing from somewhere, puddles mixed with the sweat and despair of those who had fallen. Every time I walked over them, dirty water splashed up and wet my ankles. With every breath, the sticky smell clung deep in my throat.

As the auction house drew closer, the noise grew louder. The sound of people gesturing and setting prices, laughter, the clinking of cheap alcohol against glasses. Someone was crying, and the sound of someone else being kicked while trying to escape could be heard.

At the center of it all, I too would soon be standing.

"Next in line. Bring it out!"

A hand roughly grabbed my arm. The chain was pulled, and my neck was tilted back. My breath was suddenly cut off. The strength gripping my thin wrist was rough. I had no strength left to resist. As my thin body was dragged along, I could see the platform in the distance.

It was high.

A height from which escape was impossible.

With each step up the stone stairs, my body swayed. I felt dizzy. My body, which hadn't properly eaten or drunk for days, staggered, and my chest ached. And finally, the scene of the auction house unfolded before me.

I was breathless.

People dressed in splendid clothes were seated in rows. Holding fans in their hands, tilting wine glasses, or whispering to each other, but their gazes were all directed toward one place.

They were looking at me.

Their gazes swept over my skin.

Our eyes met. Some looked as if they found me interesting, others seemed to be mocking. Disgust, curiosity, desire. Familiar emotions were mixed together.

"The last item of this auction!"

The auctioneer's voice rang out loudly.

"A very rare item indeed! Look at this white hair! And those violet eyes! Such a combination is rare even among the nobility! Excellent as a refined pet, or even as a quiet ornament!"

Ornament.

Hearing those words, my skin crawled.

This was a place where people were bought and sold. But at least I knew they would be used as 'workers.' But, an ornament?

What could that mean?

Surely not, surely not.

"What's the body condition?"

An unfamiliar voice asked.

"Not a single wound! However... it is a bit thin. But being young, it's easy to tame! Because it's obedient!"

At those words, several people nodded with satisfaction.

Ah, so that's what it means.

They decline the thin body. But if it's obedient, that's fine. Because it can be trained like a pet.

So, according to the nobles' moods... it could be tamed in the way they want.

My stomach twisted. I felt like I was going to retch. But there wasn't even time for that.

"How much do we start with?"

"500 gold!"

"600!"

"700!"

The price was rising.

The numbers they called out with smiles were my worth. I was life worth a few hundred gold.

"1,000!"

In an instant, the price jumped. Nobles raised their hands as if competing. A noblewoman hiding her face with a fan, an elderly man, a young and handsome man. Each for their own reasons, for their own desires, they were trying to possess me.

At that moment, a man raised his hand.

"3,000."

The auction house stirred.

Everyone murmured, and some looked at him with surprised faces. I slowly raised my head.

Our eyes met.

The man was smiling.

It was a subtle smile. A slightly mocking expression, like someone who had found something amusing.

"Duke Dukas..."

Someone muttered.

"This isn't your taste, is it?"

"My mood has changed."

Duke Dukas left those words and made a light gesture.

"Let's wrap this up."

The auction ended. And I was dragged away to him.

Inside the carriage.

The rattling sound of wheels echoed in my ears. The interior was splendid, but the air here was heavily weighed down.

Duke Dukas was looking out the window.

Then he glanced down at me and smirked.

"No need to be afraid. I don't intend to work you to death painfully."

His voice was soft. But wrapped within it was something cold.

"Instead, you'll have to be an interesting toy."

At that moment.

The space distorted.

The wheels slipped. The carriage shook.

"...What's this?"

The duke frowned. And—

A hand shot out from the darkness.

Black, long hand.

That hand grew from the void, and in an instant, it grabbed the duke's neck.

"—!"

Without giving the duke time to scream, the hand pulled him in.

Into the book.

In an instant, the duke's body disappeared.

And all that remained was me alone.

The auction house, the carriage, the duke.

Everything had disappeared, and I was left alone.

[You've lost your name.]

I turned my head at the unfamiliar voice.

Something was floating in the darkness.

A black book with purple magic circles densely covering its cover.

It spoke.

[If you desire, I can give you power.]

I couldn't say anything out of fear.

But—

The book was gradually approaching me.

[Now, it's time to choose.]