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

Chapter 172 - 172: Circumstances And Choices

Rexerd's severed head hit the floor and rolled twice before coming to a stop.

His eyes were still wide — frozen in disbelief.

His face was locked in a twisted blend of rage and despair, as if he couldn't decide whether to hate me or cry over the sudden end of his life.

For a moment, everything went still.

It wasn't peace. It wasn't relief.

It was just stillness.

The kind of stillness that lingers after something loud quiets too quickly, leaving silence behind to fill the space.

I stared down at the twitching corpse at my feet, blood leaking from what remained of his neck in rhythmic spurts.

The crimson puddle beneath him spread quickly, pooling around his limp arms.

I gripped my sword tightly and didn't speak at first.

Then, almost under my breath, I muttered, "Waste of potential."

Not that I meant it as a eulogy. It was just… a fact.

I wasn't mourning him. That kind of reaction was too expensive for someone like Rexerd.

But I also wasn't lying when I told him he could have been useful to me. Not good. Not righteous.

But useful.

He was the kind of monster I could have pointed in the right direction — until he outlived his purpose, of course.

But no. He got greedy.

I could have ignored all his crimes. I wouldn't have cared.

If anything, I found his re

My smile widened just a little. "Remember a few days ago, you told me you think people are bound by their circumstances, not their choices. And only a few ever break free."

I leaned closer. "Well, I'll give you that chance. If you don't accept — if you refuse to side with me — you'll be my enemy. But I won't kill you. I'll help you escape the Academy instead. You can run away, grow stronger, and try to come at my family later when you've become powerful. But remember this, you'll be on a run for a long time. And you'll have to fight every single day for your freedom."

Juliana went still for a moment, then exhaled sharply and lowered her head until her chin rested against her collarbone.

I couldn't tell if she was trembling from pain… or thought.

Because of course she remembered that conversation.

Back then, by the end of it, I'd asked her what came after someone achieves true freedom.

After someone breaks the shackles.

And she'd said — That depends. On what they're willing to do to make sure they never get chained again.

Those words must've tasted bitter now.

Because I'd turned them against her.

Her entire life, she had believed freedom meant breaking free, carving her own path, refusing to be owned by anyone.

But now, I was forcing her to see the truth she had refused to acknowledge in that debate.

Freedom isn't just about escaping the chains.

It's about what comes after.

Because if you have to always be on the run…

Because if you have to keep fighting, keep paying the price to stay free… then are you really free?