Villain's Odyssey: Enslaving heroines, Conquering Villainesses

[...For a moment there I almost got fooled. You are getting better at this,] a voice reached Asher's hearing, but he remained perfectly composed, maintaining the gentle smile on his face as he pushed the wheelchair through the corridor. They had just gotten off the elevator and were now standing before a door adorned with elegant brass numbers.

"Let me just get my card—I'll be quick," she said, placing her hand on the ornate doorknob. A soft clicking sound echoed in the hallway, and the door swung open on its own with the smooth precision of expensive automated systems. She rolled inside while he waited patiently in the corridor.

'I thought deeply about what you said,' he mused as the door closed behind her, leaning casually against the wall.

[Concerning what?]

'Concerning my display of emotions. I can't portray what I can't feel, right?' he replied.

[Right... So?]

'I found a solution to the problem.'

[Solution? How?] This time the voice sounded genuinely confused. It was certain Asher's emotions were still fully restrained. Aside from that incident with the trigger—that young woman they had encountered—there was probably no other way to activate his emotional responses.

'By using my past life memories as Noel to trigger certain emotions,' came his matter-of-fact reply.

[WHAT?! If you used your memories as a trigger, why didn't I sense your emotions being released? I certainly sensed it back with that woman, so why didn't I sense it now?]

'Emilia?'

[Yes.]

'I don't know. Perhaps it's because I only felt those emotions that deeply because, for a moment there, she seemed like Emilia from my past life,' he responded thoughtfully. 'Whereas, the emotions I trigger with my past life's memories don't elicit as much feeling as when I faced her.'

[So basically, you only feel a fraction of anger, sadness, and all that, then exaggerate it to perform these 'acts'?] it asked, quite incredulously.

The young man was starting to sound delusional. You simply don't pick and choose which memories you want to remember—once you set your mind on the past, other memories, needed or not, would come rushing back. If he really was gaining sincere emotions from previous memories, then it should be impossible. Why? Well, if he 'chose' to remember a certain memory of when he was sad, there was an 80% chance of also remembering something funny, thereby not attaining the desired result. So how was he doing it so perfectly that even the entity in his head got fooled?

'Basically, yes. It's not as complicated as it seems. I just have to remember an intense memory—one intense enough to act as a trigger—then focus on it, trying to recall the feeling I had at that point in my life. Then automatically, the required restrained feelings would react. They won't completely return to me, but due to their reaction to this memory, I know how to portray the required emotion,' he replied, confusing not only the entity but probably any other omniscient observer out there.

[That's stupid. It makes no sense.]

'I see. Well, it's no use explaining further. Just watch me.'

This didn't help matters. At this point, the entity had been reduced to a mere spectator—it would also get fooled if the young man wished, and not even realize it.

[Isn't it better if I unseal your emotions?]

'No, this is more efficient. Even if I don't fully feel those feelings, just those little slips of emotion were already trying to influence me...'

[Azalea.]

'Even after everything, he remains hopeless. Perhaps that was my curse even from my previous life... I feel too much.'

Click.

He moved away from the door, and it swung open to reveal a girl with lustrous blue hair that caught the light like sapphires, and warm almond-shaped eyes that seemed to hold depths of unspoken thoughts. She sat gracefully in her wheelchair, holding a small bag—not a school backpack, but rather an elegant handbag that young ladies of refinement might carry.

"You ready?" he asked warmly, to which she nodded with a shy smile. He walked behind the wheelchair, grasped the handles with practiced ease, and began pushing her forward.

"So, what do you want to know..." she trailed off, then looked back at him with an expression of sudden realization. "S-sorry, I... forgot to get your name." Her voice carried a note of embarrassment that made her even more endearing.

"No need to apologize about it. I also didn't get your name," he replied with a sweet smile that made her cheeks flush a delicate shade of pink.

'Why does he have to be so cute? It's not fair!' she protested silently in her mind, keeping her expression composed on the outside.

"Asher," he said, releasing the wheelchair handles and walking around to face her. He extended his hand for a handshake with an easy, natural grace. "Nice to meet you," he added with a playful smile that seemed to light up his entire face.

She shook her head a couple of times, as if clearing her thoughts, then said, "Natalia Polariz." She replied quickly, looking at his extended hand for a moment before taking it, surprised by how warm and strangely soft it was. "Nice to meet you too," she managed, feeling her heart racing like a hummingbird's wings.

This was the first boy who had been genuinely friendly with her, and the first she had felt comfortable talking to. It wasn't that she hadn't spoken to other boys before—it was just that they never felt 'real' to her. Their shows of care always seemed manufactured, calculated, designed to get close and use her. And it was always because of the name she bore.

Polariz.

One of the highest-ranked noble families involved with foreign affairs in Morntelia. They were extremely wealthy and influential, which was the main reason she never trusted anyone. After all, they could just be trying to use her connections. This was also why she felt a flutter of hope hearing he was a new student. Knowing that he didn't know who she was, yet he acted this way—ignoring her condition that many would consider a burden—made her feel something she'd almost forgotten existed.

She wasn't much liked in her own house, so she didn't attend popular gatherings where her face might become known. No one really knew about her, except her classmates who knew her surname. That's why she was sure he didn't know her status...

"Alright. Well, since I have no idea where to start, I'll leave it to you. Just show me the places you like to go," he said with genuine interest.

'He didn't react to my name... wait, he doesn't have a surname?! I thought he was a noble,' ran through her mind as internal monologue, while she remained outwardly shy and beautifully flustered.

She wasn't stupid, despite her introverted nature. She could be quiet and reserved, but that didn't mean she didn't know how cruel people could be when they wanted something from you.

She had told him her name expecting some kind of change in his behavior or demeanor—a shift in his eyes, a calculated smile, sudden interest in her family's affairs. But he remained completely composed, as though he didn't care about the Polariz name at all. As if she were just... Natalia.

"...Okay," she smiled, this time genuinely, the expression transforming her entire face with radiant warmth.

"Let's start with my favorite restaurant," she said, and he moved behind her wheelchair again, pushing her forward toward the elevator with smooth, practiced movements.