The Villains Must Win-Chapter 340: S-Rank World 2

As we walked through the winding, torch-lit halls—his hand loosely wrapped around my wrist, guiding me deeper into the vampire manor—I couldn’t stop thinking about one thing:

All the hosts who came before me.

If every single one of them had only managed to push the plot to 17%, that meant exactly one thing:

They all died.

No punishment in this Rank-S world, sure.

But constantly dying, waking up in new bodies, dying again...

Even the strongest mind would break eventually.

Honestly, this place was terrible for mental health.

The System handbook had mentioned something:

"Rank-S worlds can be approached from multiple perspectives. Different hosts may inhabit different characters. The plot advances collectively."

Meaning—

The body I was in now, Selene Ashsnow, might have been: a completely new vessel no one had ever controlled before, or a previous host’s body that died prematurely.

Either way, learning her past didn’t help me.

If the last host inside this body died, then clearly they didn’t know enough either.

So the best strategy?

Don’t die.

Push the plot.

Advance the story enough that I can actually win this.

Easier said than done when a vampire lord was leading me like a lamb to slaughter.

We eventually stopped in front of a pair of towering obsidian doors etched with runes.

Lord Eryx pushed them open with effortless grace.

Inside was a wide, dimly lit study—

Tall shelves of ancient tomes, crimson drapes, diamond chandeliers dripping soft light, and in the middle...

Another vampire.

He sat behind an enormous ebony desk, posture elegant and arrogant, fingers tapping a thick leather book. His hair was ink-black, falling past his collar. His eyes were a deep, predatory crimson—the kind that stripped you bare with a glance.

Power radiated off him.

Cold. Controlled. Lethal.

If Lord Eryx was dangerous, this one was something else entirely.

Of course, vampires were supposed to be dangerously handsome—

But this one...

This one made every "hot vampire" I’d ever seen in movies and otome games look like side characters selling garlic bread on the street.

He was young too—or at least looked young. Maybe only a few years older than the body I was in. But the plot’s tiny 17% told me who he was.

Lord Alistair Cain.

Pureblooded vampire.

Heir to the Cain Bloodline.

Mysterious role.

Could be the male lead.

Could be the villain.

Judging by his aura, he could very well be both.

Dark, ink-black hair. Amber eyes that glowed like dying embers. Very familiar and villain like.

Sharp features carved with predatory elegance.

A face that would have human women clawing at each other for the honor of being drained dry.

And then there was me—standing there in a ragged chemise, still smelling like the Blood Cell dungeon.

Lord Eryx bowed beside me and said with deep reverence:

"My lord, this is the newly acquired virgin we obtained."

. . .

Huh?

I blinked at Lord Eryx, offended on principle.

Did he really need to say virgin out loud like he was announcing a new sale item?

Lord Alistair didn’t even look up at first. He just flicked his eyes over me—once—with the emotional investment of someone checking a grocery list.

Then he turned back to his book.

With an unimpressed sigh, he asked:

"...Is there no other... pleasing to look at?"

. . .

EXCUSE ME?!

I almost choked on my own rage.

Sure, I wasn’t vampire-level gorgeous, but still:

—red wavy hair

—silver eyes

—tall, slim, voluptuous body

—nineteen years old

—objectively pretty

—above average human beauty

And here this bastard had the audacity to—

I inhaled slowly like a monk whose temple was currently on fire.

Lord Eryx bowed again, voice apologetic.

"Pardon me, my lord, but she’s the only virgin we have available at the moment. If you could wait—"

Alistair raised a gloved hand, silencing him immediately.

"It’s fine," he said lazily. "I’ll take her. School is about to start. And it’s not as if she’ll live long, anyway."

LIVE.

LONG.

Wow.

Just—

Wow.

What a charming, delightful heir to a bloodline.

Truly, a gentleman.

My lips pressed into a thin, dangerous line. I always love a challenge.

Inside, I reminded myself:

I am a pro player.

Winning is my game.

I’ve survived apocalypse worlds, harem messes, cannibal zombies, jealous boys, and a BDSM vampire arc is NOTHING.

I would not let one aesthetically gifted bloodsucker rattle me.

But then his gaze slid to me again—

Slow, assessing, lazy...

And I felt that little spark again.

His lips curved into a small, cold smile—as though he could read every rebellious thought in my head.

He closed his book with a quiet thud.

Without sparing me so much as a second glance, he rose to his full height—tall, commanding, utterly unconcerned with the fact that he’d just bought a human like a furniture piece.

His cold voice cut through the room:

"Clean her up and deliver her to my mansion."

Like I was an object.

A package.

A product he’d ordered online.

Well—technically he did buy me, but still.

Rude.

Lord Eryx bowed deeply, hand over his chest in noble reverence.

"Yes, my lord."

The moment Alistair left the study, the entire room exhaled. Even the shadows felt less suffocating.

Eryx turned to me with the solemn expression of someone delivering a death sentence.

"If you wish to live long enough," he said quietly, "I suggest you obey and please your lord to the utmost of your abilities."

Ah yes.

Classic survival advice:

Be a good little blood snack.

I lowered my head, allowing my shoulders to tremble ever so slightly—acting weak, frightened, perfectly pliant.

I didn’t respond.

Didn’t argue.

Didn’t flaunt my spirit.

Because inside?

Inside, my mind was already racing with strategies.

Don’t worry, my dear vampires... taming difficult men is literally my specialty.

I’d handled possessive gangsters, apocalypse commanders, jealous villains, mad scientists and yandere elves.

A spoiled, dismissive pureblood vampire lord?

Child’s play.

I thought to myself:

I promise—by the end of my time here, Lord Alistair Cain will be so thoroughly ensnared, so thoroughly satisfied, that he won’t be able to breathe without thinking of me.

Not emotionally, of course.

Emotionally stable men rarely exist in villain worlds anyway.

No, no—

I meant ensnared in the way that matters:

Hooked.

Obsessed.

Dependent.

Mine.

My lips curled.

I kept my face down so Eryx couldn’t see the spark of excitement in my eyes.

On the outside: trembling human girl.

On the inside: a final boss loading her weapons.

Let the games begin.