I Am The Game's Villain - Chapter 390 Randor Targeted

Chapter 390  Randor Targeted

“I need some time to think it over,” Randor finally said.

“Time?” I echoed, frowning. “I was hoping to get the weapon before the Utopian War kicks off.”

Randor grimaced at my impatience. “You speak as though my answer is inevitably yes.”

“You heard me. The war won’t fight itself.”

His eyes narrowed. “Your words drip with arrogance, young man. You’re speaking as if your mere participation is enough to alter the outcome of the war,” he scoffed.

“First off, I’m not just ‘speaking as if’—I’m telling you, with certainty, that I can change the course of this war. Secondly, I have no intention of fighting to protect people who stood by while my mother suffered. Unfortunately, there are a few people I care about on this cursed island, so I’ll intervene only if their lives are at risk.”

Randor stared at me, momentarily speechless, trying to process the brazenness of my declaration.

“What?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“Are you sure you’re Connor’s brother and Kleines’ son?” He asked, incredulity coloring his voice. My father and brother were known far and wide for their kindness. Even Christina, my sister, was cut from that same compassionate cloth.

I, however, took more after my mother, with her streak of selfishness and pettiness.

“In any case, you don’t sound like someone who needs a weapon from me. If you’re so confident, why not just end the war yourself?” Randor asked mockingly.

He wasn’t entirely wrong.

I had Trinity Nihil, so technically, I didn’t need a new weapon. But Trinity Nihil was a Hallow of Eden—a fact that unsettled me. I couldn’t yet wield its full power, and its connection to Eden made me wary.

Also swords weren’t for me. I wanted a weapon forged solely for me—something lethal, something merciless.

“If you craft a weapon for me, I’ll add you to my list of people to protect,” I said.

“What?” Randor chuckled at my offer, clearly amused.

Randor’s eyes narrowed, his demeanor shifting as he misinterpreted my words. “Are you threatening to kidnap me, brat?”

But I was deadly serious.

This man was going to be kidnapped soon. I didn’t know when exactly, but it was foretold during the Utopian War arc that he would be taken.

“Well, I’m just saying that if someday someone tries to kidnap you, I’ll be there to stop them. But if you refuse me now, you’ll remember this conversation when it happens,” I said with a smirk.

Randor’s eyes narrowed, his demeanor shifting as he misinterpreted my words. “Are you threatening to kidnap me, brat?” n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“When did I say that, old man?” I snorted, barely able to contain my irritation.

[<It’s because you sounded like a true gangster, Amael.>]

I’m just trying to be nice to him!

Suddenly, a deafening explosion reverberated through the room, the shockwave rattling our senses. -BOOM!

The rocky ceiling trembled ominously, cracks spider-webbing across the surface as if threatening to cave in. The door splintered under the force, barely holding together.

Without a second thought, I kicked the door, shattering it to pieces.

“Celes!”

My heart sank as I saw her sprawled on the ground, unconscious, with debris scattered around her. I rushed over, frantically brushing away the rubble that had pinned her down. My hands shook as I lifted her from the wreckage.

“Celes,” I called her name, shaking her gently in a desperate attempt to wake her.

Her face and hair were dusted with dirt, but thankfully, she didn’t appear seriously injured.

“Celeste!” I shook her harder.

“Hmm…Amael?” she mumbled groggily, her eyes fluttering open as she raised a hand to her head, still disoriented.

Relief washed over me. “We’re under attack. Get up, quick,” I urged, pulling her to her feet.

“What?!”

Randor was fixated on a small, floating screen that had appeared, showing the scene unfolding outside in the tunnel—the same tunnel we had taken to reach his hideout. The once-impenetrable wall had been obliterated, reduced to dust, and masked figures were pouring in, one by one.

“Impossible!” Randor stammered in disbelief. “That wall was protected by thick mana circle protections!”

He was right. Without Celeste’s help, I wouldn’t have been able to step foot inside.

“These guys are resourceful,” I muttered, a small, involuntary smile tugging at my lips.

“Why are you smiling? W-Wait! Are you behind all of this?!” Randor’s voice trembled with a mix of anger and fear as he glared at me. “You threatened to kidnap me after all!”

I grimaced in frustration. “Oh, come on!”

“Y-You threatened Uncle Ran?!” Celeste turned to me, clearly upset.

“I didn’t threaten Uncle Ran! Don’t you think we have more important things to deal with right now?” I snapped back, my eyes darting towards the tunnel where the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder.

Was this really happening? The day I finally decided to visit Randor was the day he got targeted for kidnapping? Just how unlucky could I be?

“W-Who are they then?!” Randor’s voice wavered, his nerves fraying. I could tell he was terrified that these intruders were agents from Edenis Raphiel, come to drag him back.

As much as those Edenis Raphiel idiots were a nuisance, there were even more troublesome enemies out there.

“The Iris Project,” I replied.

“What?!” Both Randor and Celeste gasped in unison, their faces pale with shock.

“Damn it…” I cursed under my breath.

This wasn’t how I planned for things to go. I had intended to use Randor as bait to lure one of them in, hoping to extract information about my mother’s whereabouts. But now, it was too late for that.

“The Iris Project? I’ve heard of them, but why me?” Randor’s confusion only deepened.

“You have no idea, old man…” I muttered.

I couldn’t let them get their hands on Randor. If they succeeded, those guys would be an even bigger nightmare in the Third Game.

“Celes, you’re with me. We need to get Randor out of here, now,” I said.

“Y-Yes!” Celeste responded quickly, drawing her long blade.

I braced myself, though unease gnawed at me. I had no clear idea who exactly we were up against—it was only vaguely mentioned in the game. If someone powerful showed up, it could be a problem. But then again, if it was someone significant, they might have valuable information about my mother.

“Randor, don’t you have some kind of teleportation device to get us out of here?” I asked, hoping against hope.

“No, I don’t! Why would you think I’d have something like that?” Randor retorted, flustered.

“Maybe because you’re a genius craftsman and a highly sought-after target, old man?!” I snapped, my patience thinning. “What do you even have here besides a bunch of annoying statues? What are you, a sculptor?”

“Don’t you dare mock my art, brat!”

“Your art is completely useless right now—unless, of course, those statues are secretly weapons.”

“There’s no way I’d do something like that!”

“Shut up, both of you!!” Celeste snapped, her glare silencing us both. “The enemy is here!”

As she spoke, several figures emerged from the shadows, their faces obscured by masks. Each one was clad in white armor, emblazoned with a distinctive emblem on their chests: a red, oval-shaped eye with a void where the pupil should be.

It was the emblem of the Iris Project.

Leading the group was a masked man, his presence radiating a dangerous aura that made it clear he was the leader.

“Randor Ironbeard, I presume? Hand him over,” he asked, his gaze shifting between Celeste and me.

“Hand him over? I doubt you’re foolish enough to leave witnesses who could identify who kidnapped Randor,” I replied with a derisive snort.

“Indeed,” he chuckled darkly. “But if you surrender him now, we’ll grant you a painless death.”

Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—this guy didn’t seem to know who I was or who Celeste was. “If you refuse, though, I’ll have my men take turns defiling the girl over there, making you watch every moment. Then, I’ll gouge out your eyes and kill you alongside her,” the man said, his tone dripping with sick amusement.

“Wait! Just take me if that’s what you want! Don’t touch her!” Randor roared.

“Hm? Interesting. Then come forward on your own, and I promise to spare the girl,” the man offered with a sly grin.

“Not happening,” I interrupted, stepping in front of Randor with a smile. “I’ve got a better solution. I kill you and your lackeys, and everything ends happily.”

The man tilted his head, scrutinizing me with a curious gaze. “I’ve seen that hair, those eyes, that face… somewhere. Doesn’t matter. Kill them and bring me Randor.”

Three of his men surged toward us, but they didn’t get far. Their movements came to an abrupt halt, as if they were frozen in place. Celeste, her blade already in motion, glared at them.

“Go away.”

“Heard her? Back off—all of you except your leader,” I added, pointing a finger at the man. “I need some information from you. Tell me what I want to know, and maybe I’ll grant you a painless death.”

The man chuckled, clearly amused by my boldness.

“You don’t understand, do you? You’re just children—how could you possibly comprehend?” He sneered, removing his mask to reveal a gruesome sight.

His face was a mess of scars, deep burns that had left his skin mottled and twisted.

“A-Amael…” Celeste’s voice trembled slightly as her grip tightened on her sword. She could sense it too—this guy wasn’t just strong, he was on a whole different level.

“How successful were you?” I asked.

He looked at me, momentarily confused. “What?”

“Your experiment. How successful was it?” I pressed. I needed to gauge just how strong this guy was.

Pyres for example was a 17% success while Raisa was 20% one and they were that strong already.

He stared at me for a moment before a twisted smile crept across his scarred face. “You know about that, do you?”

Without another word, he extended his arm, revealing four eerie red eye tattoos embedded in his flesh.

Fuck.

“Forty-one percent,” he said, his voice thick with dark pride. “That’s my success rate in Milord’s experiment.”