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

Chapter 115 The Mastermind [III]

I had followed the High Priest and his men to the safe house, keeping a careful distance so they wouldn't spot me.

Inside the house, hidden under the floorboards, was the entrance to an underground bunker.

I let them enter the bunker first, then waited just outside it.

I knew the Overlord was inside, waiting for the High Priest.

I knew they would fight.

I knew they would kill each other.

And that's exactly what they did.

Fifteen minutes. That was all it took for them to kill each other.

The gunshots stopped, the screams faded, and the silence returned.

Only two people were left alive by the end of it all — the High Priest and a young man who was his informant.

Finally, I decided it was my time to move.

So, I moved.

I opened the entrance, climbed down the stairs, and stepped inside the bunker.

The interior was exactly as I had expected.

The cold floor was littered with bodies — some still twitching, others already stiff.

Blood pooled in uneven trails on the ground, while the metal walls were painted red.

The air was thick with the scent of gunpowder, burnt flesh, and the foul stench of spilled entrails.

Weapons lay discarded beside their fallen wielders — some broken, others still clutched in dead hands.

Near the entrance, a severed arm twitched. Its fingers curled and uncurled around the hilt of a sword.

It was creepy.

In fact, this whole scene was creepy.

It was carnage.

I tiptoed around the blood and gore, careful not to dirty my new red leather boots.

I'd bought these boots just a few days ago, and while they were cheap, they had grown on me.

At the center of all the carnage, near the far end of the room, were the only two survivors.

One was a tall old man with a wrinkled face, a protruding potbelly, and a bald head. He knelt on the ground, clutching his abdomen.

That was the High Priest. Judging by the way he trembled, he must've broken a few ribs.

Beside him stood a younger man with softer features and a deep wound carved into his left shoulder.

He was bald, too — like a young monk — but his ragged breaths suggested he was barely holding himself together.

The moment they noticed me, their eyes widened in shock and panic.

I stopped a few paces away, watching, waiting for some kind of reaction.

But instead of saying a word, they just… stared at me. Like they'd just seen a ghost.

I frowned.

Crunch, crunch, crunch—

Ah. Then it dawned on me.

See, while waiting outside the bunker, I got bored. So, I started munching on some popcorn.

I still had the packet in my hand, chewing absentmindedly.

Right. That must've been it.

It must've been so weird for them to see a handsome young gentleman like me stroll into this bloodbath, happily snacking away... and not even offer them any.

"How rude of me," I said, stretching the packet of popcorn out toward them. "Want some?"

They blinked. Their gazes darted between me and the popcorn packet like I had just committed some unfathomable sin.

Still, they said nothing.

I clicked my tongue.

Throwing the packet away, I sighed. "Never mind. It wasn't that good anyway."

That, finally, got a reaction.

The High Priest scrambled for his handgun, yanking a fresh magazine from his bag to reload.

At the same time, the young man activated his Origin Card. A veil of shimmering light swiftly enveloped his body as he lunged at me with a sword in hand.

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The moment he stepped into striking range, his blade flashed toward my neck.

Damn. He was trying to cleave my head off.

I took a single step back, dodging his sword with ease. He followed up with a thrust — and once again, I dodged by sidestepping.

"Hey, no need to get so mad!" I jested. "I was just offering some popcorn!"

Then I punched him in the face.

He staggered back, blood dripping from his nose as he winced in pain.

But before he could catch a breath, I grabbed his head with both hands, yanked it down, and slammed my knee into his face with vicious force.

His body jolted and a pained grunt escaped his throat.

But I was still not done.

I snatched the sword from his grip and swept his legs out from under him with a low kick.

The moment he hit the ground after losing his footing, I drove the blade through his shoulder.

"ARGHHH!" His scream echoed through the bunker as his face twisted in agony.

By now, I had already summoned my Origin Card.

Using my power, I melted the tip of the sword and welded it to the metallic floor, effectively pinning him in place.

The High Priest had used this time to finish reloading. He raised his gun, aimed it at me, and fired a shot.

But I moved just in time. The bullet streaked past harmlessly.

Another Card materialized over my shoulder by then.

It was [Steel Hide].

And as soon as I activated it, my skin hardened unnaturally for the next few seconds.

Bang—! Bang—! Bang—!

More shots rang out, but I didn't bother dodging anymore. The bullets struck me, but none of them tore through my flesh.

It still hurt like hell, though. I'd definitely have bruises later.

But walking calmly through gunfire like this… felt so cool!

The High Priest's face flashed with terror as I kept advancing step by step, unaffected by the bullets hitting me.

His grip on the gun tightened and his shots became more frantic.

Bang—! Bang—!

The bullets thudded uselessly against my chest, sending nothing but dull aches through my body.

I grinned.

"C'mon, old man," I said, dusting off my shoulder as if I'd been merely struck by raindrops. "Why would you shoot me? I didn't even do anything… yet."

His breath hitched. He tried to fire again—

But this time, I didn't give him the chance.

After all, the effects of [Steel Hide] were waning. I had to end it quickly.

In a blink, I closed the distance. My hand clamped down on his wrist, forcing the gun upward. The next shot fired harmlessly into the ceiling.

He let out a strangled gasp as I twisted his wrist. His fingers spasmed and the gun slipped from his grasp—

But I caught it before it could hit the ground.

"W-Wait!" he croaked, eyes wide with fear. "We can talk about this—"

I drove my knee into his gut.

He wheezed in agony and doubled over, his potbelly jiggling from the impact.

But before he could collapse, I grabbed his collar and pulled him close, his face inches away from mine.

"Talk?" I mused. "What kind of person shoots first and talks later? That's just bad manners."

He trembled. His lips moved as he tried to say something.

But I slapped him across the face before he could even utter a word. The force of it sent him sprawling to the ground.

I watched amusedly as the High Priest groaned, clutching his cheek, his wrinkled face contorted in pain.

Then I crouched beside him, resting my chin on my palm.

"You know," I sighed, shaking my head, "manners are important. If someone offers you food, you either accept it or politely decline. You don't start shooting them."

He wheezed again, trying to push himself up—

But I stood up and casually stomped on his back, forcing him to stay down on the ground.

"I mean, really," I continued, feigning disappointment. "Didn't your mother teach you any better? How did you even become a High Priest?"

He coughed, spitting blood onto the floor. Despite his trembling, his gaze was filled with rage when he looked up at me.

"W-Who the fuck are you?!" he roared, as angrily as he could in his state.

"Who, me?" I tilted my head and smirked. "I'm Samael. Samael Kaizer Theosbane."