Villain: Your Heroines Were Delicious - Chapter 241 - 29

Chapter 241: Chapter 29

Seijirou let out a long, weary yawn, the kind that vibrated deep in his chest, as he followed behind Touka.

In stark contrast to his lingering lethargy, Touka looked incredibly excited, her steps light and her eyes darting toward the entrance of the grand convention hall with an almost childlike wonder.

The two of them had made a deliberate effort to blend in with the weekend crowd, though their natural auras still made them stand out to those with keen eyes.

Seijirou was now wearing a plain, high-quality white shirt that stretched slightly over his broad shoulders, paired with slim-fit black jeans and a pair of pristine white sneakers.

It was a simple, casual aesthetic that he pulled off with effortless, kingly grace.

Touka, on the other hand, had chosen an outfit that reflected her studious yet elegant personality.

She was wearing a black long-sleeved button-up shirt made of breathable silk, tucked neatly into a crisp white A-line skirt.

A thin brown leather belt accentuated her waist, and she completed the look with a pair of sensible brown leather sandals.

Her hair was brushed until it shone like polished obsidian, and now that she lacked her bangs and the heavy glasses she once wore, it completely allowed her brilliant, intelligent eyes to take in the world.

After their eventful breakfast at the Sunrise Hotel penthouse—and the mildly traumatizing encounter with Hakari—Touka had tentatively mentioned that she wanted to go to a signing event.

It turned out that her favorite mystery novel author, the elusive and brilliant Boku-sensei, would be making a rare public appearance for a signing event today.

Seijirou, feeling a lingering sense of protective affection after their “long night,” hadn’t even hesitated to agree.

“I didn’t know you were such a fan of mystery novels,” Seijirou remarked as they walked through the bustling plaza, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.

Touka turned to him, her smile bright enough to rival the morning sun. “It’s my favorite genre, Seijirou-kun! I love the structural logic of a good whodunit. It’s like solving a complex mathematical equation, but with human variables. I especially like classics like “Murder on the Orient Express”! I really love Agatha Christie’s pacing, it’s impeccable. And also “The Red House Mystery”! Did you know the latter was even written by A.A. Milne? The same author who wrote Winnie the Pooh! It’s such a fascinating shift in tone.”

Seijirou smiled, finding her enthusiasm infectious even if his own literary tastes leaned in a different direction.

“I’m not much into traditional mysteries,” he admitted, his gaze drifting toward the towering skyscrapers of the 24th District. “I usually prefer darker, more visceral novels. Things that explore the edge of the human psyche or the sheer hopelessness of the void. I especially like Swan Song and The Troop.”

The two of them continued to talk as they navigated the crowd, exchanging stories and themes from the novels they liked.

However, as Seijirou described the bleak, gore-soaked nature of the novels he liked, Touka’s eyes widened.

She was actually shocked at how dark and graphic the stories Seijirou consumed were.

While she enjoyed the intellectual puzzle of a murder, Seijirou seemed to gravitate toward the raw, unfiltered horror of the afterlife and the degradation of the soul.

Touka couldn’t even bear to read those… although, maybe one day she’d muster the courage to read some of them.

*

*

*

At this exact moment, near the entrance of the main hall of a building…

“Nanashi!” Emi called out, her voice cutting through the ambient noise of the crowd.

She was sprinting across the concrete, her long hair flying behind her like a silken banner.

A girl standing near the ticket booth raised her head, letting out a long sigh of visible relief.

This was Nanashi. She was dressed in trendy, slightly edgy street clothes, looking like a typical high-school girl, though her eyes held a lingering shadow of past anxieties.

“Emi, you’re late! I’ve been checking my watch every thirty seconds. The lines inside are already way too long! We might not even get a signed copy at this rate!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Emi panted, reaching her friend and clasping her hands together in a gesture of sincere apology. “I completely forgot about today. I was up grinding all night since there was a high-level raid in *Calamity Era*, and I literally just fell asleep right when you called me! My brain is still half-rendered.”

Nanashi sighed again, but she couldn’t stay mad at her friend. “That’s fine. You’re here now. Let’s just go i—”

Nanashi suddenly stopped mid-sentence, her jaw tightened, and her entire body began to shake with a violent, involuntary tremor.

Her face went from flushed to a sickly, translucent white, and she started hyperventilating, her eyes fixed on something just behind Emi’s shoulder.

Emi was immediately confused and deeply worried as the sudden shift in her friend’s aura was like a cold front moving in. “Nanashi? What’s wrong? Are you having a panic attack?”

Emi turned around, following the direction of Nanashi’s petrified gaze, and her own eyes widened, but not with fear, instead, they brightened with a sudden, joyful recognition.

“Seijirou? And Touka too?” Emi’s voice was full of surprise.

Without a moment’s hesitation, and completely ignoring the fact that Nanashi was currently experiencing a meltdown, Emi grabbed Nanashi by the wrist and rushed toward the approaching pair.

Seijirou and Touka were in the middle of a spirited debate about the feasibility of “locked room” mysteries when they heard the shout.

Raising their heads, they saw the unmistakable silhouette of Emi dragging another, very reluctant woman toward them.

“Seijirou, what are you doing here?” Emi asked as she skidded to a halt in front of them.

Although her face remained as expressionless as ever, no one who knew her could mistake the way her eyes brightened and her posture relaxed the moment she was near him.

“Emi, huh,” Seijirou said, a small, genuine smile touching his lips before he pointed a thumb toward the girl beside him. “Touka wanted to attend some signing event for a mystery author, and I was just accompanying her as the pack mule.”

Emi blinked, her gaze shifting to Touka as a rare spark of interest appeared in her eyes. “Are you a fan of Boku-sensei too?”

“Yes!” Touka’s eyes brightened, her social anxiety momentarily eclipsed by her fandom. “Emi-chan, you too?! Oh, this is wonderful! We have so much to talk about! Have you read the latest volume? I have several theories about the identity of the ’Phantom Surgeon’ that I’ve been dying to discuss! Especially the hints in the sequels!”

“Hm. Hm,” Emi nodded repeatedly, her own excitement manifesting in small, mechanical head-tilts. “The surgeon is definitely the brother. The foreshadowing in Chapter 14 was conclusive.”

“That’s my theory as well!” Touka squealed.

Meanwhile, Seijirou’s gaze shifted to the woman Emi was still clutching, and jis brows furrowed slightly, his analytical mind searching for a match in his memory.

He found her familiar, the way she carried herself, the shape of her jaw, but he couldn’t remember exactly where they had crossed paths.

Maybe she was one of her one night stands or something? He couldn’t be sure.

Nanashi, for her part, looked like she wanted the earth to swallow her whole.

She lowered her head, her bangs shielding her eyes, absolutely terrified of meeting Seijirou’s gaze that she was trembling so hard until Emi finally noticed.

It was as if she sensed that oppressive weight of Seijirou’s attention, so Emi stepped in front of Nanashi protectively, looking up at him. “Seijirou, stop. You’re scaring her.”

Seijirou blinked, the coldness in his eyes receding as he looked at Emi. “Have I met her before? She feels familiar.”

Emi nodded, her voice calm but firm. “At middle school. We were in the same class back then. Don’t get mad at her though, Seijirou. We already made up. She’s different now.”

“Middle school?” Seijirou thought for a moment, tracing the memories of his younger, more volatile self.

Then, like a puzzle piece clicking into place, the memory surfaced.

“Ah. So it was her.”

Nanashi.

Now he remembered.

She was the “Queen Bee” of their middle school, the girl responsible for orchestrating Emi’s systematic bullying.

She had been the one who led the rumors, the isolation, and the cruelty that had nearly broken Emi’s spirit.

Back then, Seijirou’s methods had been far less refined, and he remembered the day he had cornered her and her lackeys.

He had walked into their “secret” meeting spot, slapped her across the face with enough force to leave a permanent mark on her ego, and forced her to kneel in the dirt.

He had whispered a cold, terrifying threat into her ear, ordering her to never, ever, get close to Emi again.

And he hadn’t stopped there. To ensure she wouldn’t have the resources to strike back, he had casually asked his mother, Hakari, to look into the logistics company owned by Nanashi’s family.

Within a week, a series of “unfortunate” audits and lost contracts had bankrupted the firm, forcing them to sell their assets and move out of the district in disgrace.

Seijirou hadn’t known or cared what happened to her after that, aside from the fact that she had transferred schools and vanished from Emi’s life.

To see her now, as Emi’s “friend,” was a strange irony.

Nanashi was still shaking, her eyes fixed on Seijirou’s expensive sneakers as she remembered the cold, golden light in his eyes that day—the look of a man who could erase her existence without a second thought.

“Forget that,” Emi said, noticing the dark look on Seijirou’s face as she squeezed Nanashi’s hand, a silent signal of safety. “The past is past, as they say. So for now, let’s go inside before the tickets run out.”

“Yes! Yes!” Touka agreed, oblivious to the deep, dark history between the other three as dhe grabbed Emi’s arm. “We can talk in the line! Seijirou-kun, hurry up!”

Seijirou let out a short, huffed breath that might have been a laugh as he looked at Nanashi one last time.

Then, he turned to follow the girls. “Fine. Let’s go see this Boku-sensei.”

“Oh you are so gonna love him!”

“Hm. Hm.”

“He is a genius, I tell you. He made his debut a week ago with his work “Midnight Tea Party”, and it completely swept the mystery novel circle!”

“No one knows what he looks like. And since this is his first signing event, it’s very special.”

As they talked, the four of them moved toward the entrance, a strange, mismatched group heading into the world of fictional murder and mystery, while the real shadows of their past lingered just behind them in the sunlight.