I, the Villain, Want to Save Myself, But the Yandere Heroines Disagree - Chapter 1

At the edge of an unnamed cliff, a young man with striking black hair, dressed in fine clothing and possessing a handsome face, stood silently.

He lifted his gaze to the sky, his eyes filled with an indescribable melancholy.

A swirl of emotions churned in his heart, and in the end, all he could do was let out a long sigh toward the heavens.

At that moment, a blonde-haired girl in a maid’s outfit hurriedly lifted her skirt and ran toward him. Seeing the young man standing at the cliff’s edge, she rushed forward to embrace him.

“Young Master Orson, please don’t jump off the cliff!” the maid cried out. “Don’t do anything rash! Your family is still waiting for you to return!”

“If… if you truly can’t think things through, then… then let me jump first!” The maid suddenly stepped in front of Orson, closed her eyes, and summoned all her courage before speaking.

“Vivian,” Orson called out the maid’s name, then asked, “In your eyes, what kind of person am I?”

“M-Master, of course, you’re an incredible person!” Vivian stammered, then quickly began to speak at length.

“From the moment you awakened your magical talent at the age of three, you’ve been hailed as the most promising magician in the Empire.

At five, you forced your tutor to resign, saying there was nothing more to teach you.

At ten, you finished reading all the books in the Empire’s library and even wrote your own summary and guidebook, which received high praise from renowned scholars.

At twelve, you registered with the Adventurers’ Guild and were certified as both a Tier 4 Warrior and a Tier 4 Magician.

At fourteen, you became an honorary member of the Alchemist Guild.

By eighteen, you delivered the freshman speech during the entrance ceremony of the Imperial Academy—the first freshman in the Academy’s history to ever do so.”

Vivian rattled off Orson’s impressive accomplishments in one breath, without hesitation, as if recounting something she had memorized countless times.

“And not only that, but during your first year at the Imperial Academy, you achieved unprecedented perfect scores in every subject.

On top of that, you’re so handsome, with such a kind personality, always gentle and considerate toward others…

Master, you’re so amazing in so many ways, even in ways I might not know yet. So why would someone like you even think of giving up on life?”

Vivian’s tone carried a hint of urgency as she spoke. She simply couldn’t understand why someone as incredibly gifted as her master, practically embodying the traits of a larger-than-life character, would consider ending it all.

“You’re right,” Orson nodded.

He, of course, knew just how extraordinary his life had been. But even with such an overpowered background, he was still nothing more than… a villain.

Orson wasn’t originally from this world. He had transmigrated into the body of a character in a book he’d once read. In this book, Orson played the role of an early-stage core villain. The author had deliberately built up layers upon layers of positive traits for him, only to completely dismantle everything in the end—to highlight the protagonist’s greatness.

As it turned out, Orson wasn’t the real son of the Duke. The real son, the protagonist, Litte, was returning to the family today.

Litte was lost during a war eighteen years ago, with only a family heirloom jade bracelet left on him as identification. He was later picked up by a rural family who raised him.

It wasn’t until recently, when the Duke’s butler, Albert, went to the countryside for a vacation and spotted the family heirloom bracelet, that they began investigating Litte’s identity.

Eventually, it was confirmed that this child was indeed the long-lost son of Lucius, the Duke.

As for Orson, he was simply the child who most closely resembled the Duke’s lost son at the time, discovered during the Duke’s search in his territory.

Born on the same day as Litte, with identical black hair and violet eyes, it was easy enough to believe he was the Duke’s child, even without the jade bracelet. After all, a loss during wartime was understandable.

But in the end, Orson was not Lucius’s biological son.

Even so, Duke Lucius hadn’t sent him away. Who could bear to drive away a genius foster son who had lived with them for over a decade?

To avoid damaging Orson’s dignity, Lucius came up with a solution. Publicly, he declared that Orson was the child of a friend, passed on to Lucius when he was childless, granting Orson legitimate rights as an heir.

This way, Orson’s status as the Duke’s eldest son was preserved, while Litte’s identity as the true heir could also be accepted by others.

However, in the original novel, despite receiving the Duke’s assurances, Orson still couldn’t stand this newly returned “true young master.”

In his bid to secure the Duke’s inheritance, Orson constantly schemed against Litte, trying every possible way to eliminate him.

After all, Litte had the Duke’s bloodline, while Orson did not.

But Litte was the protagonist. Was it so easy to get rid of him?

Time and again, Litte escaped danger, and each time, Orson’s plots were exposed to everyone.

In the final battle with Litte, Orson even resorted to using power obtained from a demon. But at the critical moment, Litte underwent a sudden burst of strength and defeated him outright.

Orson was then consumed by the backlash of the demon’s power, losing all his abilities and becoming a cripple. He was then cast out of the family.

The once-famous genius of the Empire, now revealed as a hypocrite, became the target of widespread scorn.

In the end, powerless and with no one to turn to, Orson simply faded from public sight.

He likely died.

Orson couldn’t help but feel depressed. Why, despite being so powerful, could he never defeat the protagonist?

The conclusion he arrived at was simple: the protagonist’s plot armor.

Against someone with the protagonist’s halo, Litte, no one in this world could win.

The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he felt.

A deep sense of helplessness arose within him.

And as for Vivian, who, in the original novel, was Orson’s most loyal and devoted servant, she was ultimately just used as a tool by him. In the end, after realizing the truth of Orson’s actions, she lost faith in him and left him.

“Master, I know you might feel disappointed that you’re not the Duke’s biological son. But all these years, the Duke and everyone else have always recognized your value,” Vivian continued.

“And besides, the second young master is about to return. You should go and welcome him.”

“Thank you, Vivian,” Orson said, his previously heavy expression softening considerably. He patted the girl’s head gently. “I wasn’t actually planning to jump. I just wanted some time to clear my head. But seeing how much you care about me, I feel much better.”

After saying this, Orson turned around and began walking back toward the manor.

Heh, the protagonist, huh?

If I don’t become his archenemy, that’ll solve everything, won’t it?

In fact, I’ll go even further—I’ll take advantage of the protagonist’s naivety to become his mentor. I’ll raise him into an overpowered protagonist myself! I’ll join his protagonist crew and live the good life alongside him.

That way, I can avoid the fate of being cast out and dying in misery!

—

Outside the medieval-style manor, a luxurious carriage came to a stop.

At the manor’s gates stood a group of more than ten people, all eagerly awaiting the arrival of the person inside the carriage.

At the forefront were a noble-looking middle-aged man and an elegant woman.

Behind them stood a tall, handsome young man with black hair.

This was the manor of Duke Lucius Stranick.

The man and woman at the very front were none other than Duke Lucius and Duchess Mary.

Standing just behind them was the previously declared only son of the Duke—Orson—who now held the title of the Duke’s eldest son.

Once the carriage settled, the driver hopped down and opened the door to the carriage.

From within stepped a “little girl” with long black hair, dressed in coarse, homespun clothing.

Of course, this wasn’t a little girl. From this moment forward, he was Lucius’s second son, Litte Stranick.

Seeing the figure step out, Orson froze for a moment.

Wait… Are we sure this isn’t a girl?

The long, messy black hair, the petite frame, the overly pale skin that hinted at malnutrition, and the flushed cheeks that turned red instantly when looked at…

If his parents hadn’t told him in advance that this was Litte, Orson would have genuinely thought he was meeting a younger sister instead.

The rest of the group, besides Orson, was also taken aback.

What kind of joke was this? This was supposed to be the Duke’s son, yet he dressed like that?

Lucius’s gaze shifted to Albert, who had accompanied Litte, and his expression darkened slightly.

“Albert, couldn’t you have had him change into something more appropriate before bringing him here?” Lucius asked, his tone laced with dissatisfaction.

“Well… I apologize,” Albert bowed and explained. “I had planned to, but Young Master Litte was absolutely unwilling.

He said the clothes he’s wearing now were made by his rural mother, and he didn’t want us to go to any trouble, so he refused to change.”

“Sigh, that poor child,” Mary sighed. “He’s been out there all these years, enduring so much hardship.”

She turned back to glance at Orson.

To be honest, at least for now, Orson still looked much more like a noble’s child.

“Orson, your clothes from a few years ago are still in the wardrobe, right? Take Litte inside and help him change into something more suitable.”

“There’s a banquet to attend. Wearing such clothes is hardly appropriate.”

“Yes,” Orson replied respectfully with a nod.

When Litte approached Lucius and Mary, he lowered his head.

“Father… Mother…” His voice was as soft as a mosquito’s buzz, weak and timid.

“Mm,” Lucius acknowledged with a nod and patted Litte’s head. The gaze he directed at Litte carried a hint of fatherly affection.

After all, this was his own flesh and blood.

Mary, however, wasn’t as gentle. Her brows furrowed as soon as Litte got close, and she caught a foul odor—whether from firewood or livestock, she wasn’t sure.

“By the way, Orson, after this, make sure to take Litte for a bath. He smells terrible. This is hardly appropriate!” Mary said to Orson, completely ignoring the reactions of those around her.

Orson naturally nodded in agreement.

In the original book, Mary also looked down on Litte and even conspired with Orson to get rid of him. Unfortunately, their plans were exposed in the end, leading to Orson’s expulsion and her own downfall in her attempts to fight Litte.

She later returned to her family in disgrace and died of depression.

As soon as Mary finished speaking, Orson noticed a change in Litte’s expression.

A trace of guilt and shame appeared on his face.

It seemed he still blamed himself for being unable to fit into the family. If that were the case, then it would be easy to handle.

Orson thought to himself as he stepped past Mary and Lucius, approaching Litte. He removed his gloves and lightly grasped Litte’s cold hand.

“Come on, let’s head inside,” he said with a bright and friendly smile.

“Okay…” Litte didn’t know how to respond and could only nod.

But as they reached the entrance, Litte suddenly stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Orson asked gently.

“I… I’m dirty. I’ll get the floor dirty,” Litte said, staring at the pristine floor of the manor.

“Ah, I see,” Orson nodded.

The next moment, Litte felt a sudden sense of weightlessness. Before he realized it, Orson had lifted him into his arms.

“This way, the floor won’t get dirty,” Orson said, looking at the startled and embarrassed Litte in his arms. He gave what he thought was a warm and reassuring smile.