Awakening: Starting With The Villain System

Just exactly as I thought.

My eyes were locked on the man, for a single, breathtaking second, his own mask of seriousness shattered.

His brows furrowed, his lips parted slightly in disbelief.

His expression showed even he didn't expect this.

But the feeling was short-lived.

I gritted my teeth, the pressure making my jaw ache.

This was bad. Whatever was coming, wasn't nice.

Then, the world outside our little standoff erupted.

It started as a distant, chaotic symphony, the sharp, sizzling crackle of spell destructions, the staccato rhythm of gunfires, and the brutal, metallic clang of weapons meeting weapons.

And then, most expectedly, at least to me, came the guards' screams.

They weren't shouts of orders or anything of such; they were raw, panicked shrieks of men being overwhelmed, sounds that were abruptly cut short.

The scream sounded like they were attacked.

Well, they actually are.

My attention snapped back to the man. Any trace of his momentary surprise was gone, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated venom.

He was glaring at me like I had personally insulted his whole bloodline, like I was the architect of this entire chaos.

The weight of his fury was a physical pressure in the room.

I forced a nonchalance into my voice that I absolutely did not feel.

"Hey... Chill. I ain't the one who did that." The words felt flimsy, useless even as they left my mouth.

[How do you expect someone to still be calm when there is a high level threat outside?]

"Shut up!" The man spat at me.

That's your answer, system.

[...]

The system fell into a chastised silence.

The man didn't move. His body was taut, a coiled spring.

His eyes darted from me to where the guards were, which was outside, then back to me.

I could see the calculation, he was deciding what should he take care of first.

The pressure was getting to him. His knuckles were white, clenched at his sides.

But it didn't take long before he finally decided.

His shifting weight stilled, his gaze solidified, and he fully faced me.

The decision was made. The external threat could wait. I was first.

I didn't wait for him to make the first move. The moment his intent solidified in his eyes, my hand was already moving.

I unsheathed my katana at that instant. The 'shiiing' of the polished steel leaving its scabbard was a promise, a thin, sharp sound in the thick air.

But... It was meaningless.

With a speed faster than light, he was in front of me.

One moment he was few feet away; the next, the heat of his body was against mine.

The air itself hadn't even had time to move out of his way.

"?"

The thought was a useless, incomplete spark in my brain.

Before I could even process what was happening, his right hand, clenched into a fist, drew backwards...

Then it lunged forward.

There was no time to block, no time to dodge.

The blow landed squarely on my chest. The impact wasn't just force; it was pure, concentrated destruction. It was like nuclear bombs going off against my sternum.

The air exploded from my lungs in a choked gasp, immediately replaced by the hot, copper taste of blood.

I coughed out a mouthful of the vital fluid, a crimson spray that misted the air between us.

I was weightless. The world became a dizzying blur as I was sent flying backwards.

My body crashed into the solid wall with a sickening, final crunch.

The moment I hit, half of that building side collapsed around me, stones and dust raining down in a deafening avalanche.

I lay in the rubble, my body screaming in a dozen different languages of pain.

I was cooked.

My vision began to blur at that moment, dark spots dancing at the edges.

My body became weak, heavy, like it was filled with lead.

Every breath was a ragged, knife-edged struggle.

Through the haze of dust and agony, I saw him.

The man stood there, not even winded, but he was looking down at his own chest.

There, slashed across his suit, was a long, clean cut.

A faint line of red was beginning to seep through.

Before his punch had connected, in that infinitesimal fraction of a second, instinct and luck had taken over.

I had managed to twist my wrist, to drag the razor edge of my katana across him.

But looking at him now, it looked like it was useless.

The deep cut was there, yes, a testament that I had at least touched him.

But the man didn't seem fazed by it at all. It was a papercut to a titan.

Or maybe I was wrong.

He raised his head slowly, and his eyes found me in the wreckage.

Any previous calmness, and seriousness was gone, burned away and replaced by something far colder, far more terrifying...

Absolute rage.

That was all that filled his eyes.

He didn't rush. He marched towards me slowly, each step deliberate.

He was going to finish me.

The man's heavy, deliberate footsteps were the only thing I could focus on.

He was only a few paces away, a mountain of rage ready to fall on me and finish what he started.

But before he could take another step closer to me, the sound of frantic, light footsteps broke the rhythm of his approach.

A young woman, skidded into the doorway. She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving as she braced herself against the wall.

"Sir! Sir!" she gasped, her voice pitched high with panic. "We are under an attack! It's… it's a massacre! All our security guards have died!"

The man's advance halted. His head turned slowly, the murderous intent in his eyes shifting from me to the young woman, then back at me.

The woman followed his gaze, her wide, fearful eyes finally landing on me crumpled in the rubble.

I saw the briefest flash of assessment in her eyes, but there was no shock, no surprise.

Just practically looked at me in disgust like another regular thief that had tried to rob here.

I was just another piece of trash littering the floor, an inconvenience in the middle of a much larger crisis.

This seemed to be a regular sight for her.

It was almost funny. If I hadn't been coughing up blood, I might have laughed.

But that didn't stop me from laughing inwardly.

And at that moment, the man seemed to reach a conclusion.