"Hahaha..." Lathel laughed loudly, surrounded by beautiful girls whose soft giggles blended with the sweet scent of perfume and wine.
After all, he was the only son of Duchess Valoria—and on top of that, he held an S.VIP card from this very establishment. Naturally, the service he received was nothing short of luxurious.
Surrounded by a garden of beauties, Lathel momentarily forgot all the darkness within him—forgot that he was merely a villain destined to die before the story truly began.
The women around him weren't as stunning as Catrina or Arina, but each was charming enough to make any ordinary man lose his mind.
Lathel wasn't stingy in the slightest. He tossed gold coins without hesitation, ordering bottle after bottle of fine liquor, trying to drown everything that troubled him.
"Ah..." He blinked as the room started spinning. The edges of his vision blurred.
[Oy! Keep drinking like that and you'll pass out.]
'Oh, come on!' Lathel spoke through his thoughts, grinning drunkenly. 'System, I never drank a drop in my entire previous life. I worked myself to death back then—at least let me taste what it feels like to actually live this time!'
'Don't worry. I treasure my life. I'll stay alive—at least until this damned script ends. Hahahaha...'
[Fine. But aren't you worried your mother would be heartbroken to see you like this?]
That sentence hit something deep inside him. Even through the haze of alcohol, Lathel frowned as an image appeared in his mind—a breathtakingly beautiful woman, elegant and young, her golden hair flowing like sunlight.
'She's... too young to be my mother,' he thought. 'Is she really?'
[Hm? What kind of question is that?]
'Based on my extensive novel-reading experience, beautiful women in fantasy stories never stay just "mothers." They always end up joining the protagonist's harem.'
'And protagonists never accept women who've already... lost their first time. So tell me, why is the villain's mother so absurdly beautiful? It doesn't follow the usual logic! Which means... she's probably not my real mother at all. She'll end up being Alex's woman instead.'
[Hmmm... I don't have the future script that far ahead, so I can't confirm or deny that.]
'Whatever. Who cares? This is just a story anyway. As long as I show up when the script requires me, that's good enough, right?'
[Well... technically, yes.]
'Perfect! Then stop bothering me.'
He finished his thought, then grabbed another glass and downed it in one go.
"Ugh—" Lathel's stomach twisted violently. Nausea clawed at his throat, but he stubbornly forced it down, determined to experience what it meant to be truly drunk.
In his past life, he'd never allowed himself such indulgence. This time, he wanted to taste it—to feel the chaos, to lose control.
Time slipped by unnoticed. The women around him exchanged worried looks as his face grew pale.
"My lord, please, you shouldn't drink anymore," one pleaded softly.
"She's right—you've already finished three bottles of the strongest wine we have! If you keep going, you might die!" another said, almost in tears.
"Please, have some hot soup, my lord. It'll help."
Even though their wages depended on how much he drank, none of them dared let him push further. He was the Duchess's only son—if anything happened to him here, they'd all be finished.
"Don't worry! Hahaha... *Huck!*" Lathel hiccupped, clutching his stomach as the room swayed again. "I've never been drunk before! So tonight—tonight I'll finally feel what it's like to be human! Hahahaha..."
His laughter echoed through the luxurious hall, foolish and free—the laugh of a man who knew he was doomed but for once didn't care.
Suddenly, the noisy room fell eerily silent.
Lathel blinked sluggishly, the world spinning as his eyelids grew heavy—so heavy he could barely keep them open.
"Heh?! Where did you all go?" he slurred, words thick with alcohol. "Oy! Come here... let me hold you for a bit. Let me feel... the warmth of this mortal world, hehehehe..."
He chuckled foolishly, hands groping blindly in the air until he caught hold of something—soft, warm, unmistakably feminine.
Without thinking, he pulled the figure tightly against him, burying his face into the softness of her ample chest.
"Um..." The woman let out a soft, breathy moan—clear and intoxicating.
Lathel grinned. "Don't worry... I'm just holding you. Just... holding you, that's all, hehehe..."
And truly, he meant it. He wasn't doing anything else—just clinging desperately, as though trying to hold onto a fragment of warmth that might keep the emptiness away.
Her voice sounded oddly familiar, but his mind was a fog of alcohol and confusion. He couldn't think straight anymore.
"Lathel, you've drunk too much!"
"So what?" he snapped drunkenly. "What's it to you if I drink?"
The woman paused before replying softly, "Look at yourself right now... you look like a fool."
"Hahaha..." Lathel laughed, voice hollow and tired. "That's because this world is full of lies. The honest ones... always end up looking like fools."
The room fell silent. His words hung heavy in the air, cutting deeper than he realized.
"I want more wine," he muttered irritably. "Bring me more."
"That's enough! If you drink anymore, you'll die," the woman scolded, voice trembling with emotion. "Don't you think the people who care about you would be sad?"
"Hahahaha..." Lathel laughed again, the sound bitter and broken. He hugged the woman tighter, whispering mockingly, "Fake. It's all fake. I don't have anyone who cares about me."
His words stunned both women into silence. He could feel the one in his arms trembling softly, and the other—whoever she was—didn't make another sound. Only the faint sound of her breath filled the heavy stillness.
He wasn't wrong, though—not in his own mind. To him, this was just a fictional world. None of it was real. Everyone here was just an NPC.
But the moment he said those words, his consciousness began to fade. The room dimmed, swallowed by darkness.
When the haze finally lifted, the luxurious room was empty of the Spring Garden girls. Only Lathel remained—along with two breathtakingly beautiful women.
One was Catrina, tears glistening in her eyes as she held Lathel tightly to her chest, clutching him as though afraid he would disappear.
The other... had long golden hair and a face nearly as beautiful as Catrina's, yet carried an entirely different aura—cold, regal, and commanding.
Duchess Valoria.
Lathel's mother.
Catrina's grip on him tightened until it seemed their bodies might merge. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks, her face filled with fear and worry.
"Valoria," she whispered shakily, "don't tell me... he already knows everything?"
Valoria didn't answer immediately. Her sharp eyes flicked toward the door, brows furrowing. Her voice came out calm and cold as frost.
"You've listened long enough, haven't you?"
"Heh?!"
Catrina froze and turned toward the doorway.
From the shadows, Alex stepped forward, scratching his head awkwardly before bowing slightly. "S-sorry... I didn't mean to eavesdrop."
"Alex?! You... you haven't left yet?" Catrina quickly wiped her tears, heart pounding in panic.
Seeing her crying—and holding Lathel so intimately—filled Alex with suffocating rage. His jaw tightened, fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white.
"I stayed because I was worried about you," he said through gritted teeth. "This place is filthy. It's no place for a beautiful woman like you, Mother."
Alex was the one who'd spread word of Lathel entering Spring Garden.
He knew just saying "Lathel went into a brothel" wouldn't grab attention, so he'd added fuel to the fire—claiming there'd been a fight, that Lathel had been beaten badly.
It had worked. Everyone rushed to the scene—including, unexpectedly, both Catrina and Duchess Valoria. Even Alex hadn't foreseen that.
Valoria's gaze fixed on him, cold and sharp as a blade. "What you did today... I expect an explanation."
Her voice was low and calm—but it carried enough pressure to make even Alex, the so-called protagonist, feel a chill crawl down his spine.
Although he was the male lead, his current rank was low. Facing one of the Empire's strongest warriors, there was naturally little chance he could fight back.
Alex stammered, "I... I thought maybe... I was mistaken."
"Mistaken?" Valoria frowned. "You slander my son with no proof—so it seems... you don't want to live anymore."
Alex ground his teeth. Anger burned in him, but before Valoria he felt like an ant.
Valoria flicked her hand. A single drop of wine leapt from her glass and then—
WHOOSH!!!
"What?!" Alex flinched as that droplet flew toward him at terrifying speed.
He tried to dodge but—
SMASH!
"AGH!!!" Alex screamed in agony as the droplet pierced his shoulder, leaving a small hole. Blood geysered out.
He gritted his teeth, eyes flashing as though about to spit fire.
"Begone!" Valoria snapped.
Alex clenched his teeth but decided to leave, furious and muttering under his breath. 'Damn it! Why do those two beautiful women protect him?'
'Wait...' Alex recalled Lathel's words from before he passed out drunk. 'Could it be Lathel holds some secret about them, so they must protect him?'
'That's it! Damn him. He dares threaten Catrina and his own mother. Once I'm stronger, I'll rescue those poor women.'
With that, Alex stormed out of Spring Garden, rage and humiliation riding his shoulders.
Only Valoria and Catrina remained in the room.
Valoria's brows drew together. "Catrina, watch that boy. The way he looks at you isn't right."
"I noticed," Catrina sighed. "But he was arranged by the Elders as Arina's fiancé—I can't simply drive him away."
Valoria nodded, studying Catrina's expression. Her voice was softer, edged with rare tenderness as she glanced at Lathel. "I don't know how he learned our secret, but this was expected."
Her sharp, cold gaze softened for a moment. "If we don't want anyone discovering our secret, then every person connected to it must be silenced."
"It's just... I didn't expect him to learn it so early," Valoria added.
Catrina hugged Lathel closer, her eyes distant and dreamy.
"I heard he gave you flowers and a ring, didn't he?" Valoria asked.
Catrina blushed but nodded.
"You still like him?" Valoria pressed.
Catrina nodded.
Valoria sighed, a flicker of jealousy crossing her features before disappearing as quickly as it came. "It's very difficult. Unless you hold that family in your hand, you and he won't stand a chance."
"Even worse, this forbidden affection will only inflict more suffering on both of you."
"I know that, but..." Catrina glanced at Valoria, worry etched across her face. "What about you?"
"What are you talking about?" Valoria replied with feigned indifference.
Catrina pursed her lips. "Do you think you can hide your feelings from me? We're close—women friends. I know what you're thinking."
Valoria let out a long breath, staring into the distance. "I'm afraid... I'm afraid he will look at me with disgust and contempt. I'm afraid he will no longer need me..."