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I am The HERO I am The VILLAIN

"What was that? People cheering me as a hero for saving them? Well, I didn't plan on that." "What!? Those very people are also branding me a villain for the lives lost? Well, I didn't plan on that either." "That f*** survey really screwed me over. I'll definitely find that jerk responsible for this mess." "Mhm... What did you ask? So am I a villain or a hero?" "Well, it seems according to everyone," "I am The Hero, I am The Villain"  ------- Karl was never a heavy thinker, heavy worker, or heavy anything. All he ever wanted was to sit and relax for ages and he was doing that just fine until he answered some random questions online after completing a long novel. He didn't think too much about the survey and answered every question with whatever answers came to his mind. Suddenly the day after, he found himself in the very same world of the novel he finished. And he can't even take advantage of the future knowledge of the events as he was thrust 1000 years before the beginning of the plot. "What kind of shitty twist is this?" he screamed. Moreover, the real tragedy is that his physical abilities are worse than a 10-year-old as a gentle breeze could whisk him off and a mere sneeze could send him fly with his abilities being pretty much useless in a fight. But there's no one to blame for that except his lazy ass. If only he’d wished for cool stuff like Super Strength, Dragon Breath, or much better, a Nuclear Attack when the survey asked what abilities he would like to have. As humans worse than predators close in on him, he’s stuck with nothing but some lame abilities. —or so he thought. Little did he know that his powers far surpassed his initial understanding. As he delved deeper into their capabilities, he uncovered the unprecedented true potential of his abilities. And that’s how Karl’s seemingly lazy choices, transformed a vulnerable Prince into the most dreaded and dangerous entity, not only in the world of Nevora but also across the realms beyond imagination. ------ Author Contact Information: Email: KalamitiCker@gmail.com Discord: https://discord.gg/t8ehdyCxXu

KalamitiCker · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
22 Chs

Mouthful Of Trouble

Going back in time...

Following Jandar and Dorian's chase after Renga into the Hunter's Society, Patricia found herself alone in Jandar's office chamber. 

Initially, she contemplated returning to her own house, as Dorian had suggested. However, an inexplicable hesitation held her back. Her heart, heavy with worry and unease, resisted the idea. 

If Lander wanted to return, he would have already come to the house by now. Patricia's intuition told her that something terrible had occurred. 

Feeling lost and helpless, she stood in the office chamber, overwhelmed by a sense of uncertainty similar to being stranded in an endless desert without a sense of direction.

But despite the uncertainty, a glimmer of hope flickered within Patricia. Jandar and Dorian had embarked on a quest to find her son, which gave her a small measure of reassurance. 

Also Dorian informed her before that the hunter society, housed within a vast three-story building, offered a beacon of possibilities. 

As an independent network bustling with hunters tirelessly at work, the building catered to every conceivable need.

It boasted emergency quarters for temporary stays, a bustling canteen serving hearty meals, and, most importantly, a well-equipped medical room complete with a dedicated apothecary exclusively to the needs of the hunters.

With these resources in mind, Patricia reasoned that if Jandar and Dorian were to locate her son and any urgent medical attention was required, they would undoubtedly return to the hunter society first.

She resolved to remain within its walls, anxiously awaiting Jandar's return and any news of her son.

—--------

Marla's thoughts swirled in a storm of despair as she reflected on the ill-fated events of the day. 

It had begun with the abrupt intrusion of a group of soldiers, barging into her home at the crack of dawn in their relentless search for an unknown individual.

The chaos escalated when her husband, driven by a natural instinct to protect his home, dared to protest their aggressive intrusion.

In response, the soldiers unleashed brutality upon him, delivering a merciless blow to his jaw that shattered bone and teeth alike. 

The air filled with the sounds of destruction as they tore through their belongings, leaving a trail of devastation in their wake.

"Curse their ancestors! Did those utter imbeciles truly expect to find a man hiding inside a water pot? And add to that, they shattered it completely afterward. The audacity!!! May Fira's judgment strike them and their nine generations. Phu.. "

Walking under the scorching sun, she pondered how the day could actually have worsened. 

As a maid laboring within the confines of the Lord's manor, she held a perceived status within the town, although without any true authority within the estate itself, an illusion she skillfully maintained among the common folks.

Opportunistic by nature, she adeptly exploited her association with the Lord's manor to her advantage multiple times.

Even within the manor's walls, she skillfully delegated her duties to Patricia, a fellow maid. 

Marla harbored a deep-seated envy towards Patricia, fueled by a stark contrast in their appearances despite being of the same age.

At thirty-one years old, Marla's weathered countenance often led others to mistakenly place her in her mid-40s, whereas Patricia's youthful appearance hid her true age, leading observers to peg her as in her mid-20s.

This stark contrast fueled Marla's resentment, driving her to seek out flaws in Patricia's work often. 

And upon discovering that Patricia never refused additional tasks from others, Marla seized the opportunity to offload her own responsibilities to her colleague.

Yet Patricia never declined the extra workload, always accepting it with a smile. However, that very smile only served to deepen Marla's irritation.

Now, amidst the burdens of spending coins to mend her pathetic unemployed husband's battered nose and replace the shattered remnants of their belongings, courtesy of those brutish soldiers, she never anticipated the crushing blow of losing her job today. 

Today, the head maid, Tamira, summoned Marla to show her one of the Lord's Personal Coat, adorned with numerous unsightly stains. It was her responsibility to ensure the garments were meticulously cleaned yesterday.

As the Lord prepared to wear his cherished attire, the discovery of the stains triggered a furious outburst directed at Tamira.

Orders were swiftly issued for the dismissal of those deemed responsible, leading to Marla's abrupt termination.

Seething with fury, Marla boiled over the injustice of it all. 

The stains were not of her doing. She had entrusted the task to Patricia, as she often did. Yet, her decision to assign the task to Patricia had backfired big time, resulting in her termination the following day.

"I never suspected that conniving bitch had it in her," Marla seethed with bitter resentment.

"So, she was plotting against me all along, huh? If I don't pluck her eyes and feed it to the crows, my name isn't Marla alright!!"

Driven by a vengeful determination, she marched towards Patricia's house, ready to confront the source of her unemployment.

Patricia's humble house was nestled in the northeast part of the town, where the land met the vast expanse of the sea. 

Surrounded by a substantial gap between neighboring houses, Patricia's small house stood solitary and untouched by the hustle and bustle of town life.

The modest structure was crafted from weathered wood, exuding a simple charm that harmonized with its surroundings. 

In front of the house, a small garden flourished with a handful of flowers and common vegetables for daily consumption, lending an aura of tranquility and calmness to the entire scene.

Upon reaching Patricia's residence, Marla noticed that the house door stood wide open, prompting her to barge in with fiery determination.

"You damn wretch! Where are you hiding? Show yourself!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the disheveled house. 

However, her calls were met with silence and the chaotic state of the house indicated that the soldiers on the manhunt had already ransacked the place.

Frustrated by the lack of response, Marla ventured into the only adjacent room, the kitchen, to discover it deserted as well. 

"Tch... Do you think you can run away from me? Once I lay eyes on you, it'll be the end of you," she muttered angrily, ready to storm out of the house.

Just then, a figure entered through the open doorway, interrupting her wrathful exit.

He sported a close-cropped hairstyle that added to his air of arrogance, dressed in the unmistakable garb of a soldier.

As he strode into the room and laid eyes on Marla, his demeanor shifted to one of immediate inquiry.

"Huh? You're not Patricia. Who are you?" he demanded, his tone laced with authority and impatience.

"Who am I? Who are you to ask? And why are you searching for Patricia?" Marla retorted, her voice tinged with defiance.

"It's none of your concern, bitch. When I ask a question, you better have an answer. Do you know who I am?" His words dripped with disdain and superiority.

"Bah... Are you some kind of emperor? You're just another common thug in a soldier's uniform, nothing more," Marla fired back, her frustration evident. 

"One of your fellow soldiers broke my husband's nose, and now I have to use my hard-earned coins to treat that unemployed bastard. And on top of that, I've lost my job today."

Ruban found himself increasingly irritated. Typically, encountering a soldier would instill fear in most people, but this woman not only dared to speak back but also showed blatant disrespect. It wounded his pride deeply.

"Rotten bitch... Who the hell do you think you are calling me a thug?" Ruban snapped, his voice filled with anger.

"And did I ask about your pathetic sufferings? Now tell me where that woman, Patricia, is... Or else..."

"Or else what?" Marla interrupted, her voice rising with defiance. 

"Beat me? A woman armed only with a gown? Ha!! Some soldier you are!! I know my rights very well. I worked in the Lord's manor. If even your fingertip touches me, I'll march straight to the Lord's house and demand justice. Dare to try me." 

She screamed, venting all the frustration she had accumulated throughout the day.

Ruban found himself at a loss for words. As he scrutinized the woman's face more closely amidst her shouting, her claim of working at the Lord's house triggered a memory. 

It was the notorious loudmouth Marla, known for her foul language and confrontational nature.

He had never paid much attention to her before; after all, she lacked the conventional attractiveness of a pretty face or a slim figure. 

However, the realization dawned on him that if he made a move and Marla followed through with her threats, it would spell trouble for him. 

So, he remained rooted in place, his teeth clenched tightly together, as Marla stormed out of the house, her presence leaving an air of tension behind.

With a victorious smirk lingering on her lips, Marla could have left it at that, but she chose to add a few more cutting words as she walked away.

"Hmph!!!…Cunt!!! All bark and no bite."

With those parting shots, she continued on her way, her mind already working on a plan to reclaim her job. 

It remained unclear whether she intended those final jabs for Ruban to hear or not, but he caught every word loud and clear.

Suddenly forgetting his original purpose at Patricia's house under Hendrik's orders, Ruban started trailing Marla from a distance.

"You want no talk and just biting, eh? Well, I'll give you something to bite on... I'll make you beg for mercy until you're screaming in misery, you damn wretch."

Any guesses on what happens next?

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