Chapter 8 - Audience Choice

Branches whipped at my legs and snagged at my hair as I tore through the forest, vaulting over fallen trunks, weaving between trees like the forest was a parkour course. A breathless laugh escaped before I could stop it. I couldn’t help it—my body felt weightless, battery-charged, unstoppable. Twenty minutes of sprinting and I wasn’t even winded.

Yeah. This was addictive.

After ditching the stiff uniform and bullying the maid into finding me slacks and a loose shirt, I bolted straight into the woods. Testing out the limits of this body.

A low, guttural snarl rolled through the trees.

I slid to a stop, dirt spraying under my boots.

A creature burst from the shadows—a wolf, if wolves were made in a factory run by psychopaths. Midnight-blue fur bristled in matted clumps, a black crystal jutted from its forehead, and its fangs—long, yellow, dripping with enough drool to fill a bathtub—looked too big to fit inside its skull. Its glowing red eyes locked on me with pure, ravenous hunger.

“Oh crap.”

I dove sideways. Hit the ground hard enough to lose my breath—but honestly, I didn’t care. Momentum carried me into a roll, and I sprang up again, white dagger already in hand.

A grin tugged at my lips. “Oh, right. Monsters.”

“Don’t tell me you forgot why we came out here.” Snow’s voice echoed through my head, dripping with laughter.

“Shut up,” I muttered. It wasn’t my fault that this felt like the world’s best adrenaline rush. Levelling should be classified as a drug.

The wolf vanished in a blur of motion as its paws thundered against the ground, sending dirt flying through the air.

Every hair on my arms stood up.

I activated Blink.

Air warped—one heartbeat of darkness—and I reappeared metres away just as the wolf shredded through the space I’d been standing. It skidded to a stop, claws carving trenches in the dirt, head whipping around as it searched for me.

Its gaze snapped to mine. A vicious growl vibrated through the ground.

I blinked again. Then again. Each time I vanished a split second before it struck, leaving the beast snapping at empty air and getting more pissed by the second.

An enraged howl shook the trees.

“Would you quit antagonising it?” Snow sighed. “Some of us like being alive.”

I ignored him completely.

I planted my feet, dagger raised, pulse thundering with exhilaration.

“Come on then,” I taunted with a wild grin. “Show me what you've got.”

It lunged. Claws tearing up earth. Jaws wide.

“Okay—test time.”

I triggered Blink and snapped back into existence above the wolf.

…Which would’ve been brilliant, if the bastard hadn’t already sprinted past.

I dropped like a sack of bricks and slammed into the ground. The air whooshed out of me. I wheezed, then started laughing—half hysteria, half thrill. “Yeah. Genius move, Raven.”

Branches scraped my palms as I pushed myself upright, turning just in time to see the wolf whirl and launch at me again.

Round two.

I blinked, this time just a metre forward and up, not sky-high like an idiot.

Gravity yanked me down the instant I reappeared, and for once, my luck didn’t suck. The wolf shot underneath me at the exact moment I dropped.

I landed hard on its back, its spiky fur stabbing into me, but I ignored the pain as I grabbed a fistful of its coarse fur with my free hand, knuckles whitening as it tried to shake me off. It thrashed like I’d dropped burning coals on it, twisting and bucking in frantic zigzags.

“Stay—still—damn—you!”

I raised the dagger and drove it into the thick muscle of its neck. The beast convulsed, let out a strangled howl, and then its whole body broke apart into shards of dissolving light that burst into my chest like a warm rush of air.

Which left me—again—falling with no wolf under me.

I hit the ground with another graceless thud.

For a second I lay there, panting, limbs limp and buzzing. Then warmth flooded through me—washing away the ache, the bruises, the exhaustion—leaving me feeling like I could run another twenty miles.

“Not bad,” Snow said, laughter curling through my head. “Though it would've looked cooler without the faceplant.”

“Oh, shut it.” I brushed dirt from my shirt—not that it helped much. Level-ups fixed pain and fatigue, but it didn't get rid of the dirt and sweat.

A shimmer lit up in my vision:
CHOOSE A SKILL:
— Intimidation
— Swift Tackle

I stared at the options. “Tackle? Yeah, absolutely not.” I tapped Intimidation without hesitation.

“Open status!” I yelled—maybe louder than necessary, but whatever. No one was around to complain.

The writing appeared before me just like before:
Name: Raven Vidier
Age: 17
Level: 9
VP: 10+
HP: 65
MP: 54
STR: 48
DEF: 32
MAG: 56
INT: 49
AGI: 42
CHA: 24

I pumped a fist. “Hell yes.”

Snow’s laughter tickled the inside of my skull. “Enjoying yourself?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. Yeah… I was. Maybe too much. This was exactly how they would trap the villainess—treat it like a game until she forgot who she was.

My gaze slid to the glowing + beside my VP. “Snow… what did I get these VP for? I haven’t exactly kicked any puppies today.”

“Probably just you being your regular charming self.”

“Ha. Hilarious.” I tapped the plus.

A new menu unfolded:
VILLAIN POINTS SHOP:
SKILLS
– Villainous Laugh — 10 VP
– Dramatic Exit — 10 VP
– Cape Flair — 10 VP

I stared. “…What am I supposed to do, jazz-hands my enemies to death?”

Scrolling down revealed the real skills:
– Mana Manipulation — 1000 VP
– Fireball — 1250 VP
– Shadow Bind — 1300 VP
– Summoning — 2000 VP

“You have got to be kidding me.” I groaned. “How the hell am I supposed to afford any of that?”

Snow snorted. “Simple. Be a villain. Kill someone. Boom—profit.”

A chill slid down my spine. “Yeah, no thanks. I’ll stick to mundane level grinding.”

I flicked my hand to close the window—then paused. A small envelope icon blinked at the bottom.

“…Snow. Why is that flashing?”

“Fan mail, maybe.” He sounded way too entertained.

“Who in their right mind would send me fan mail?” I tapped it.

A single message appeared:
To my favourite villainess — KillerB241

The message read:

“Would be a shame if you died already, so here’s a heads up. Try not to disappoint me.”

Below it was what looked like a poll:
AUDIENCE CHOICE:
What happens next?
— Assassination Attempt — 54%
— Accident — 46%
— Treasure Hunt — 0%

Cold dread coiled through my gut like someone poured ice water into my stomach. “Assassination attempt? What the hell does—”

A twig snapped.

Instinct took over. The dagger flashed, stopping a hair’s breadth from slicing someone’s throat.

Asher froze, hands raised, eyes wide. “Whoa—okay—call off the murder.”

I lowered the blade an inch. An inch. “Stalking is illegal, you know.”

He smirked. “Funny. I was going to say the same thing. You do remember this is my training spot?”

“It’s a free forest,” I said, dagger raised. “So unless you’ve got a good reason, don’t tempt me.”

Asher laughed like I hadn’t nearly sliced his throat. “I did save your ass from your brother.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” I snapped. “Anyway, goodbye.” I turned on my heel—got about two steps—when Asher’s voice ripped through the trees, panicked and sharp.

“RAVEN!”

Something slammed into my side. Hard.

I hit the ground, skidding across leaves and dirt. The world spun—until a massive shadow passed through the space where I’d just been standing.

A paw the size of my torso.

It crashed into Asher instead.

He flew like a ragdoll hurled by a pissed-off god, smashing into a tree with a crack that made bile rise in my throat.

I stared in shock for a heartbeat.

Then my body moved.

“ASHER!” I scrambled to him, knees hitting the ground so hard it shook my whole body. My shaking hand pressed against his neck—

A pulse. Weak, but a pulse. Relief flooded me.

“Raven, snap out of it!” Snow barked in my head, and the forest vibrated with a deep, rumbling growl.

I forced myself to turn.

A bear stood there. Well, a monster in the shape of a bear. Three times my height. Reddish-black fur matted with blood. Glowing red eyes fixed on me like I was a juicy steak.

Fantastic.

I lifted the dagger. It felt like a toothpick in my hand.

A low chuckle drifted down from above. I squinted—and my stomach dropped.

A figure in a black hooded cloak perched casually on the creature’s shoulder, as if this were just his afternoon joyride.

“Well,” he said, voice dripping with amusement, “this is convenient. Two problems in one spot.”

My grip tightened. “What the hell do you want?”

“To kill you,” he said lightly. “Some very important people want you gone, and I’m happy to oblige.”

I stepped in front of Asher, planting myself between him and the monster, even though every sane cell in my body screamed run. I forced a smile—sharp and reckless.

“Yeah? Try me.”

He hummed, delighted. “How fun.”

His hand lifted. Then dropped it.

The bear roared—earth-shaking, bone-rattling—and lunged.

“Now die, Raven Vidier.”