Argent Family.
The ducal house that made children cry just at the mention of its name across the continent, and had nobles spitting under their breath.
Even the royal family groaned every night, muttering, "If only those bastards weren't around..."
All they did was one thing.
Slave education, management, and trade.
On the surface, they spouted nonsense about noble bloodlines and put on airs with refined smiles, but peel back the layers, and they were a monstrous group that monopolized more than half the slave market.
Combat slaves born from death-row convicts who rolled out of wars across the continent,异族 slaves hunted from the forests, princesses from defeated tribes, abandoned children...
They never turned down any dirty deal. Those were the hands of the Argent Family.
The imperial family saw them as a thorn in their side not out of morality, but because they were too powerful to touch easily.
Corrupt officials.
Underground organizations.
Monster research groups beyond the mountains.
Even power players within the royal family itself. Their roots tangled across the entire continent, and their vast gold and manpower could now be called a "kingdom" without exaggeration.
In other words, the main villains of this world.
That was the Argent Family.
And how do I know the inner workings and secrets of such a filthy group?
...Because I'm one of their kids.
To be precise, I was treated like something not even worth calling a "child."
"Fuck... Of all people, Lucas Argent..."
Those were the first words out of my mouth the moment I opened my eyes.
The illegitimate child born from the Argent Family's scandalous affair—a literal "accident."
Not even worthy of a proper name on the family register, ignored by the maids as less than human.
That was the guy I'd possessed.
A filthy creature born from a filthy family.
Lucas Argent.
'No way... I got hit by a bus and died for sure. Is this that famous isekai possession thing?'
Up to here, it might've been some light novel protagonist luck.
But the problem? Why did I have to possess someone worse off than dead?
A hardcore revenge story utterly devoid of mercy or tears.
And one of the main villains in that revenge tale was none other than Lucas.
I stood blankly in front of the cracked full-body mirror for a long while.
The boy in the mirror had a frail build, a half-sloppy shirt, and a face blending half the nobility's golden allure with a whore's sultriness—for a bastard, anyway.
His delicate features only made him more repulsive. That was young Lucas Argent.
And I knew.
Just how horrific a future this led to.
This guy... from what I remembered, in the original story, he got his arm chopped off, eye gouged out, needles jammed between his nails, and even castrated—tortured artistically until he died from shock.
This was the work I'd possessed into.
Even in the 19+ dark revenge novel [Vengeful Goddesses], it was one of the goriest deaths among all the villains.
The plot was simple.
Three girls who escaped after being abused by the slave family.
They became this world's saviors, demon lord, and queen, growing into top-tier heroes who then sought revenge on the shadows that brought them tragedy.
On the Argent Family.
And in that story, the first pathetic human villain to die was this body right here.
Lukas.
Was it an inferiority complex from being an unrecognized bastard?
From childhood, Lucas was the typical psychopath who broke slaves' arms and legs for fun.
The kind of lunatic who saw it as mere play.
Never realizing three of his victims would grow into the world's pillars—savior, queen, demon lord—he kept it up for years.
And when he reached adulthood.
By then, they'd grown strong and returned to capture him. What followed was torture so grotesque... it was a sight.
I'd watched the original with friends and genuinely thought, "Holy shit, that's why it's rated 19+..."
And now that villain—
The first slaughter scene in this insane world, Lucas—was me.
"Imperial Year 582... Did I regress ten years before the original story?"
The main story of [Vengeful Goddesses] begins in mid-October of 592, exactly ten years from now.
When the three heroines rise as hero, queen, and demon lord to dismantle the Argent Family.
In other words, if I just ran away right now, there was still a chance to survive.
Of course, problems abounded.
Even as a bastard, being "family blood" meant I knew some of the Argent secrets.
If a guy like that tried to bail with "I'm out!"?
They'd kill him on the spot, calling it family rules.
These bastards respected no family ties or status.
"...Still, ten years is enough time to do something."
True to bastard form, I lived in a single-room shack worse than a baron's maid quarters.
Cracked walls, moldy stench.
But that didn't matter.
I wasn't going to take the original Lucas route—abusing slaves while groveling for family recognition despite this treatment, like a madman.
To survive, I had to go the opposite way.
I shuffled to the creaky desk and spread out a sheet of paper.
Then I started jotting down my plans.
"First... The Argent downfall in ten years is a 'fixed event.' To escape alive then, I need to rack up favors with the kingdom ahead of time. In other words, secure the informant position."
I twirled the pen.
Two tasks.
One: Perfectly cut ties with the Argent Family.
Two: The three girls currently treated like trash slaves.
But in the future, they'd become great heroes, queen, and demon lord. Win them over, care for them properly, never abuse them, build some bonds, then secretly "liberate" them all away from the family's eyes.
Soften their revenge route against me as much as possible, keeping their blades away.
I tapped the paper.
"Time... is more precious than gold."
Though born a bastard, I had the mind of a possessor.
And now—it was time to move.
Bang!
"...Young Master?"
The door flew open, but no cheerful greeting or polite bow came.
Just a habitual, flat voice.
"Karen. Tell them to bring the carriage. I'm heading to the market for a bit."
A noble's son should have a maid waiting in the hall, greeting with "Good morning, Young Master..." the moment the door opens. But not here.
An empty corridor.
Air so cold even light seemed to avoid it.
And in the middle, a woman looking down at me like she was inspecting trash.
Karen.
Officially my exclusive maid, but really the family's "watchdog."
Attached by the great Argent family with petty consideration: "Manage him well—even a bastard might sell later~."
As if to prove it, her expression was always the same.
Sneer.
Contempt.
Fatigue.
Disgust.
And today was no exception.
"Sigh... Young Master. Off to pull some pointless stunt again?"
A mere maid talking like this to a noble's son—even a bastard, but still of the bloodline?
That was the reality of the Argent Family.
Karen crossed her arms and snorted.
"Trying to catch the family's eye with something weird again? The market this time? Where commoners go? Without even ordering a maid? Oh dear... So pitiful, I almost teared up. Hoping to win some pity from the Family Head?"
"..."
"For the record, I'm not calling the carriage. No interest in playing along with your sad act."
If this were original Lucas?
His legs would've buckled, backing away, fleeing without even closing the door.
And Karen would've snickered venomously behind him.
But—
The one in this body now wasn't original Lucas.
I slowly raised my head.
"Hey... fuck. What did you just say?"
"...P-pardon?"
Karen's eyes shook for the first time.
The total pushover who'd endured spit in his food, sneaky kicks when he "tripped," needles pricked in his sleep—he'd snapped. How could she not be shocked?
But the fluster lasted one second.
Her eyes still labeled me "family-abandoned bastard."
"Ha... ha! Did you just swear at me, Young Master?"
"Yeah. So?"
Karen sneered and lifted her chin.
"Unbelievable. Puberty hitting now? You know what, Young Master?"
She paused deliberately, smacking her lips before continuing.
"I've got the Family Head's permission for 'discipline' precisely for when you act out like this."
Karen leaned down slightly, flashing a fake-kind smile.
"Meaning, right here, I can 'correct' that arrogant attitude of yours however I see fit."
...Bullshit.
I knew what that "discipline" meant.
Just arbitrary violence whenever she felt like it.
A flimsy wrapper for beatings.
Karen uncrossed her arms and strode forward.
Eyes screaming "I'll show you who's boss," like she owned the place.
But—
"Discipline?"
I raised my head very slowly and said,
"You think you can still do that... right now?"
"...What?"
And without a word.
Thwack!
I punched my own face.
"Y-you crazy... What the hell are you doing?!"
A scream burst from Karen's throat.
Her smug leisure vanished in an instant.
But I was smiling.
A smile she'd never seen, the grin of a truly dangerous man.
I "self-harmed" once more, halting her charge dead.
"Karen. You know? Even if I'm a family-discarded bastard...
I'm still merchandise first."
Karen's face went white.
"Merchandise manager damages the goods? And the family finds out?"
Blood trickled from one nostril.
I ignored it, stepped up, and tapped her shoulder.
"So... who do you think gets truly 'disciplined' here?"
"Y-Young Master..."
"Karen."
I brought my face right up to her ear.
"I'm in a fucking shit mood right now."
Her breath hitched as my exhale brushed her; she shuddered violently.
"On days like this..."
I whispered softly, unperturbed.
"...I get this weird habit of 'self-harming'."
Silence.
The whole corridor froze.
I locked eyes with her one last time.
"So don't overstep again. Unless you want to vanish without a trace."
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