A Villain's Will to Survive

Chapter 102: Family (3)

... I dreamed of a long-forgotten past, a time when I lived with my family in a small, crowded room. The memory was brief, like a sunset fading away, incomplete yet undeniably beautiful. I once had a family, too.

When I opened my eyes, the sun blazed down from a clear sky. I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the intense brightness. A meadow stretched out around me. Insects chirped, the grass swayed in a gentle breeze, and the trees rustled softly as their leaves fluttered.

Pitter-patter-patter—

As I took in the scene, I heard the sound of small, hurried footsteps drawing closer.

“Bwother~” a sweet, childish voice called out. I turned toward the sound. “Bwother~ Whewe awe you?”

The girl couldn’t have been more than six years old, her speech still a bit slurred. But I recognized her immediately, and a smile naturally spread across my face.

“Bwother~” Yeriel called out, her voice small and lisping as she ran deeper into the forest in search of her brother.

I let out a soft sigh and murmured, “This must be Yeriel’s memory.”

It appeared that the diary’s security system, or whatever it was, had drawn me into this memory.

“Bwother...” Yeriel called out, glancing around for a while before lowering her head sadly, a finger pressed to her lips.

Then, all of a sudden, she shouted with determination, “... Come out, come out!”

I nearly laughed at her outburst but managed to suppress it.

"Come out, come out, whewevew you awe! Come out!"

Naturally, there was no answer. Yeriel's small voice was the only sound that echoed through the lonely forest.

“You're so good at hiding, Bwother! I can’t find you!” Yeriel declared with clear admiration.

Whoever her brother was, he had to be a lucky boy.

“Come out! Whewevew you awe!” Yeriel wandered around, repeating her cries. “Bwother...?”

She continued walking, her small steps leading her deeper into the woods. As the forest thickened, she abruptly stopped and glanced back. It was now just an endless expanse of trees—she had wandered too far, and the way back was no longer visible.

"... Uh-oh," Yeriel whimpered, backing away in fear. Tears welled up in her eyes as her small hands gripped the hem of her dress. "Waaah..."

“Tut,” I muttered as Yeriel was on the verge of tears. I stood up and walked toward her.

“Ah, Bwother...?”

Yeriel's face brightened with relief at the sound of someone approaching, but she quickly recoiled when she saw me, bristling like a startled hedgehog. Her voice filled with cautious curiosity as she asked, “... Who awe you?”

I rested my hand gently on her small head and said, “You’re it.”

“... Sowwy?” Yeriel murmured, her wide, innocent eyes lifting to meet mine as she tilted her head in confusion.

Seeing her reaction, I corrected myself gently. “Ah, I forgot—you’re the one who's supposed to catch me, not the other way around.”

My sudden arrival left me feeling disoriented, with a slight ache lingering in my head.

“What awe you doing? Wet go! I hafta find my bwother!” Yeriel yelled, wriggling free from my grasp.

I scratched the back of my neck and said, “He’s probably not around here.”

“Huh? Why?”

“... Your brother probably suggested playing hide-and-seek because he wanted some time to himself.”

I wasn't Deculein, but somehow, I understood what had transpired.

“He likely left you to search on your own while he went off to play somewhere else.”

Yeriel’s face crumpled in disappointment, as if the world had let her down.

But after a moment, she shook her head furiously and cried out, “N-no! That’s not twue! That’s not twue! Bwother! Bwother~! Thewe’s a stwanger hewe!”

She turned and bolted, her short legs scrambling as fast as they could carry her. I trailed behind, measuring the area’s mana density as I moved.

“Aah! He’s following me! Don’t fowwow me!”

“I’m just walking.”

I hadn’t yet fully grasped what kind of magical phenomenon this was, but for some reason, I felt strangely light-hearted.

***

The young Yeriel turned and bolted, her short legs scrambling as fast as they could carry her.

I trailed behind, measuring the area’s mana density as I moved.

I hadn’t yet fully grasped what kind of magical phenomenon this was, but for some reason, I felt strangely light-hearted.

“What is this...” Yeriel murmured, reading the sentences being recorded in the notebook titled Deculein. This could only mean that Deculein, like the other vassals, had also become part of a notebook. “... Was Deculein just here?”

“Indeed,” the diary that resembled Deculein responded.

Frowning, Yeriel lifted the notebook and asked, “Why is my story recorded here? Why did Deculein encounter the young Yeriel?”

"The world within this artifact adheres to its own set of magical laws."

“Hey, explain it fucking properly! Who the fuck is supposed to understand that if you put it—”

“Deculein entered through your diary, Yeriel, and the security system recorded him. That’s why he has been recorded in Yeriel’s Memories,” the diary explained.

For a moment, Yeriel's mind blanked, her thoughts swirling in confusion as she asked, "Then how did Deculein get in here? He didn't even have a key."

"The diaries were crafted as a pair. When one is opened, the other unlocks simultaneously."

Yeriel's mouth fell open in shock. She had never opened the diary before and had been completely unaware of this mechanism.

“Then, how do I reverse this recording?”

“Is there any reason to reverse it?”

"... What?" Yeriel muttered, her eyebrows twitching.

In an even tone, the diary said, “Yeriel, you desire the succession, don’t you? If Deculein stays in this state, the position of family head will naturally fall to you.”

Yeriel remained silent, her gaze fixed on the human-shaped artifact.

With his unwavering tone, the diary continued, “If you find it difficult to decide, why not see Deculein for yourself?”

“See him myself?”

“Those who are recorded express their thoughts and desires with greater honesty. This phenomenon is known as unconscious internalization. Examine Deculein’s record, and you will discover his unfiltered desires there.”

Yeriel bit her lip as she looked down at the notebook in her hand, the one belonging to Deculein.

... The young Yeriel had used magic to build a castle out of dirt. She proudly showed it off with a flourish, and I couldn't help but smile.

The two appeared to have grown closer. Yeriel scowled as she read the next entry.

When I praised her, the young Yeriel puffed out her chest and said, “Heh! My bwother is way more amazing than me! He’s alweady leawning univewsity magic!”

Deculein had been reduced to mere words being recorded. As Yeriel examined the text more closely, she suddenly came across a peculiar word.

As I spent time with her, memories of when I was ■■■ surfaced in my mind.

"What’s this? One of the words is scrambled," Yeriel muttered, puzzled.

“That’s impossible. You must have read it wrong,” the diary replied.

“No, I...”

Before she could investigate further, the page flipped on its own, and new thoughts rapidly filled the page, preventing her from going back.

“Ah, forget it. You’re fucking useless,” Yeriel muttered.

"The fault must be with your eyes."

Frustrated, Yeriel had continued reading the record.

Rather than leaving her to play hide-and-seek on her own, I thought it would be better to spend some time playing with her.

As Yeriel read that line, a realization dawned on her, and she muttered, “Hide-and-seek alone... Hold on. I remember this.”

Yeriel recognized the memory—playing hide-and-seek alone. Of all her memories, this one was especially painful. That day, Deculein had pretended to play with her, only to abandon her, leaving her lost in the forest for two days. It was a memory that had scarred her deeply.

Yeriel turned to the diary and asked, “Where are my memories? If this diary is a pair, it should contain my records too, not just Deculein’s.”

“They’re in the hallway opposite,” the diary replied.

Yeriel turned and walked down the left corridor. As he had said, the walls were lined with frames that contained her memories, each with a title displayed beneath.

The Day I First Learned Etiquette.

Waaah! The Day I Was Spanked.

The First Magic I Demonstrated to My Brother...

Most of her childhood memories involved Deculein. She had relied on him so much during her youth that many of the titles seemed absurd.

“... Ah,” Yeriel said, her eyes caught on a particular frame. “This...”

A Lonely Game of Hide-and-Seek.

The memory in the frame depicted the heart of the forest where she had once gotten lost. Without hesitation, Yeriel peered inside, her eyes widening in recognition. It was the day she had wandered the forest alone—a memory that still caused her pain.

I can do dis too!

Oh, that’s impressive.

Deculein had been there beside her younger self, recorded within that memory.

“Could it be...” Yeriel murmured as she pulled out the Key of Yukline from her pocket, her eyes locked on the frame. She slowly inserted the key into the frame.

Clunk—!

The key slid into place, catching within the frame. As expected, in the diary’s world, the Key of Yukline served as a master key.

Clack—!

Yeriel turned the key as if unlocking a door, and in that instant, her entire body was drawn into the frame.

“Wha—!”

Whoooosh—!

It felt as if her soul had been pulled from her body, stretching and contracting in all directions like a rubber band. The twisting sensation overwhelmed her, leaving her nauseous.

“Ugh...”

When she finally steadied herself and opened her eyes, Yeriel found that she had shrunk in size. She looked around in a daze. The same clear sun from the frame shone overhead, and before her stood the dirt castle her younger self had crafted with magic.

And in front of her there was...

“Shouldn’t you be heading home?”

A kind-faced Deculein stood before her, a look she had never seen from him in all her life.

Yeriel's heart skipped a beat, but she quickly nodded and said, "T-there's still pwenty of time. Miswer, awe you...?"

***

"T-there's still pwenty of time. Miswer, awe you...?" Yeriel said, nodding her head.

I narrowed my eyes at Yeriel, causing her to flinch and step back, fear flickering in her eyes.

"... Mister?" I said.

"Y-yes? Y-yes, yes..."

Her lisp was endearing, bringing a smile to my face. From her perspective, I really was an older man.

"I’m not sure when I’ll leave. I’m actually trying to find a way back home."

"Aha..."

I watched her as she plopped down on the ground, the same child who had just moments ago been so eager to show off her magic.

"Miswer... do you have a wittle sibling too?" Yeriel suddenly asked, changing the subject.

The topic felt a bit heavy, so I offered a faint, bitter smile and nodded as I replied, “Yes, I do.”

“Ah... Then, do you... diswike your sibling too?” Yeriel asked, her voice grew quiet, weighed down by an unexpected sadness.

It made sense; at her age, emotions were often volatile. The vividness of the memory’s recreation felt almost too real.

“... Well.”

I gazed up at the clear sky, feeling an unexpected calm wash over me. I had been sitting on the grass, my clothes in disarray, yet there was no discomfort. Oddly, it felt as if I had somehow reverted to being Kim Woo-Jin.

"Yes," I answered.

The young Yeriel absentmindedly tore at the grass.

Glancing at her, I continued, “I used to."

She turned to me, her eyes widening in surprise.

"I used to dislike my sibling quite a bit, almost to the point of hatred. But..."

I thought about my sibling who had left this world too soon, staying forever young while I continued to grow older.

"... Not anymore."

"... Weally?" Yeriel asked, her voice filled with surprise.

I ruffled my hair—a gesture that would have been unbearable before. Then, without much thought, I lay back on the grass, the sky above so blue it seemed to cover me like a blanket.

"And now... do you wike your sibling?" Yeriel asked again, pulling her knees up to her chest.

"Yes," I replied simply.

"How much...?" Yeriel asked, her voice full of innocent curiosity.

I chuckled softly, which made her squint and shout, "Stahp waffing!"

“... Well, how much, you ask?” I paused, considering. Yeriel held her breath, her anticipation almost charming. “Enough to sacrifice my dreams for that kid.”

If I had kept chasing my dream of becoming an artist, that kid would have starved. My sibling had mattered more than anything Kim Woo-Jin could have ever wanted. It was a heavy truth to share, but Yeriel stayed quiet for a long time.

Whoosh...

A gentle breeze swept through, rustling my clothes and ruffling my hair. The sensation was refreshing.

Finally, she murmured in a soft, almost whispering voice, "... I see."

"Yes."

"But... Why'd you hate your sibwing?"

“... Oh?”

That question struck a deep chord within me. It was something I had never shared with anyone—the reason. It had been too painful, too burdened with guilt to speak of. But...

“Whas... the weason? Because my bwother... hates me too...”

Her sorrowful words tugged at my heart. I looked down at the young Yeriel, thinking that offering her some soft words wouldn’t hurt. After all, she was just a projection of a memory.

"I once thought my sibling took away someone I loved. At least, that’s what I believed back then."

"Someone you wuvved?"

"Right."

My mother died giving birth to my sibling, and five years later, grief claimed my father through cancer. Orphaned, I was left with a six-year-old sibling who could barely speak—a burden that had taken everything from me. But over time, that child became my whole world. By the time I realized their true value, it was too late—they had already left.

"I was foolish, and I’ve carried a lot of regret because of it."

Maybe that’s why I couldn’t bring myself to hate Yeriel. In truth, I found myself wanting to spend more time with her. Even though she wasn’t my real sister and could never replace the sibling I had lost, it still felt... right.

“So there’s no need to worry,” I reassured Yeriel.

She appeared to remember something from her own past, her expression trembling on the brink of tears.

"One day," I said, resting my hand gently on her small head. She flinched, her ears drooping like a scared puppy. "Your brother will love you too."

Yeriel didn’t respond. She let out a sharp, odd breath, then suddenly stood up and ran off. I tried to call after her.

"Wait—"

Poof!

But in an instant, she vanished without a trace.

"... It seems this is where the recording ends."

Of course, it was just a memory contained within a diary; it couldn't persist indefinitely. I rose to my feet, deep in thought.

"Hmm?"

At that moment, it began to rain.

Drip-drip...

Raindrops began to fall from the sky, which had been clear and cloudless just moments before. I caught some in my hand and tasted it.

"What the heck?"

The rain had a salty taste, an odd sensation that made me frown at first, but then a smile slowly spread across my face.

"Haha."

I welcomed the mysterious rain with open arms and took a deep breath.

"Hoo... Haa..."

I felt at peace as the crushing weight of being Deculein lifted, leaving me refreshed. For the first time in a long while, I truly felt like I was standing as Kim Woo-Jin.

"But... that’s that," I muttered as reality started to settle in. I scratched the back of my neck. "Now, how do I get out of here?"

I had to consider my options for escaping.

***

Yeriel ran from her memories, clutching her chest as she leaned against the corridor wall. Her heart pounded so fiercely that it felt as though her ribs might break.

"There’s no way..."

Deculein's words still echoed in her ears, lingering like a whisper that wouldn’t fade.

"Why...?"

Yeriel’s hands trembled as she opened the notebook titled Deculein and continued reading. The diary had already begun recording from somewhere in the middle.

But in an instant, she vanished without a trace. Of course, it was just a memory contained within a diary; it couldn't persist indefinitely.

"Why are you...?"

Drip—

Tears dripped onto the page, soaking into the paper. Yeriel jerked her head up, surprised to find she had been crying without realizing it.

"... Oh?"

Even this moment was being recorded in the diary.

At that moment, it began to rain. Raindrops began to fall from the sky, which had been clear and cloudless just moments before. I caught some in my hand and tasted it. The rain had a salty taste.

“Don’t eat that, you fool... It’s my tear. You hate anything dirty,” Yeriel muttered with a faint laugh. Reading Deculein's thoughts had dried her tears quickly.

I felt at peace as the crushing weight of being Deculein lifted, leaving me refreshed. For the first time in a long while, I truly felt like I was standing as ■■■.

Yeriel empathized with the pressure Deculein felt, but she frowned at the blacked-out letters that continued to appear.

“What’s with this part? It keeps getting scrambled.”

"Yeriel," the diary intoned suddenly. Despite everything, it felt far more than just a simple diary. "Have you reached your decision?"

"Yes," Yeriel replied with a decisive nod.

The diary responded, "Very well. And your decision?"

"I'm returning. With Deculein... my brother, and everyone else."

“Returning?” the diary repeated with a frown. “Do you not seek the succession?”

“... I’m not sure,” Yeriel replied, crossing her arms with a casual shrug.

Just moments ago, Deculein had said, "Enough to sacrifice my dreams for that kid..."

Yeriel hadn’t fully understood what his dream was, but she knew one thing for certain—she had been entirely mistaken about him.

"That’s not important right now. We can discuss everything once we’re back."

There were still many unresolved matters, such as Ganesha’s request, but those could wait. Yeriel would ask him directly when the time came.

"You will regret it," the diary suddenly declared, its tone unsettling and firm.

"... What the heck did you just say?" Yeriel said, her expression darkening as she glanced at Deculein's notebook.

... Upon consideration, it became clear that the being within the diary was not just a mere diary. It was a far more dangerous entity.

She kept her emotions concealed after reading the notebook, but the diary's ominous presence only heightened her unease as it repeated, “You will regret this.”

Yeriel tightened her grip on the key, shaking her head as she firmly said, “No, I won’t.”

"No, you will regret it."

"... Are you really a diary? What kind of diary defies its owner? Do you want to die? Keep that attitude, and I’ll stab you with this key!"

The diary’s gaze shifted to a menacing red, and Yeriel instinctively stepped back.

"I am the artificial intelligence created by Master Decalane, tasked with evaluating the most suitable successor for the family."

"What?"

“The conclusion is that both of you have been disqualified. You each possess significant deficiencies,” the diary declared, its presence darkening as a malevolent mana radiated from it, far beyond the realm of ordinary mana—it was demonic energy.

"What are you even saying...?" Yeriel asked, fear tightening her chest as she took a step back. "... If we both fail, then what happens?"

“I, as the artificial intelligence, will assume your roles. I am the closest reflection of the master, far more fitting as the successor than you, who are burdened with deficiencies.”

"What the..." Yeriel muttered, as the absurdity of it all left her momentarily speechless, but soon she burst out in anger. "Fuck off, you little shit!"

"I will seize control of your body."

"Ha, what the hell? You fucking piece of shit. How dare a magic-born fucker like you even think you can take me on?"

“I am far more suited for succession than you, who have no ambition,” the diary stated, as dark tendrils began to extend from its back.

Fwiiiiiip—!

A powerful tendril lashed out at her. Yeriel spun around and sprinted down the corridor, clutching Deculein’s notebook tightly in her arms. He had to find the answer, whatever it took.

Crash-crash-crash—!

The tendril tore through walls as it pursued her relentlessly. The words in Deculein’s notebook were intricate, too challenging to understand while she ran.

Rrrrrrraaaaash—!

Another tendril burst through the wall, obstructing her path.

"Damn it!" Yeriel muttered in frustration as she jammed the key into the nearest memory frame.

Click—!

She twisted the key and dove through the frame, shouting, "Hey Deculein, brother—!"