I Am The Game's Villain



The tension in the room was palpable as the two men sat across from each other, their exchange filled with an air of authority and suspicion. Nyrel, the younger man, maintained his calm demeanor while the man in the black suit, Marcel Gill, sought answers.

"Do you understand why I called you?" Marcel's voice cut through the silence, his gaze fixed on Nyrel, who seemed detached and focused on the wall behind Marcel.

Nyrel remained silent, his expression unreadable as he kept his gaze averted. But when Marcel addressed him directly by name, Nyrel reluctantly turned his attention towards the man. "Mr. Marcel Gill," he muttered softly, removing his glasses to clean them with his jacket. "Is it for the usual reason?"

"No, I didn't call you for a case review," Marcel responded, shaking his head.

"Then why did you call me?" Nyrel asked, placing his glasses on the table. "I have an important exam tomorrow, Officer Marcel Gill."

"Don't pretend to be ignorant, Nyrel Loyster," Marcel retorted. "You know exactly why I called you."

"I'm confused, officer," Nyrel replied, leaning back in his chair.

Marcel sighed, his gaze fixed on Nyrel as he placed a picture on the table. "This picture," he said.

The picture displayed Nyrel wearing a surgical mask on the street.

"You followed Jayce for several hours last night," Marcel stated.

Nyrel maintained his silence, refusing to avert his gaze or give any indication of guilt.

"You may fool your classmates, but you can't deceive me, Nyrel," Marcel continued. "We've been following your case for nearly five years. You have psychological issues stemming from the death of your family. Leon, the murderer, is unreachable in prison, so you're attempting to redirect your anger towards someone else."

"..."

"You know when I see you right now. Your face overlaps with that same Leon you despise"

"May I leave?" Nyrel interjected, paying little attention to Marcel's words.

"We are concerned about your psychological well-being, Nyrel," Marcel said, a serious tone in his voice.

"There's nothing to be concerned about. If you don't want me to follow him, I'll stop. That's all," Nyrel replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Very well, but I want you to confirm something for me," Marcel insisted, tapping the photo on the table. "I don't know if you hold a grudge against him for what he did to you at the shopping mall three months ago, but I urge you not to take any action against him. It's childish and foolish, especially considering your circumstances."

"I won't hold grudges for something like that, officer. I've witnessed enough in my life," Nyrel declared, putting on his glasses, standing up and preparing to leave. "Goodbye."

As Nyrel walked away, the weight of his past lingered in the room, leaving Marcel Gill with a lingering concern for the troubled young man.

...

...

...

The sun hung high in the cloudless blue sky, casting its warm rays on the bustling streets below. People strolled around, enjoying the pleasant weather with their loved ones, dressed in light attire.

Amidst this cheery and familial atmosphere, a young man named Nyrel walked alone. He donned a simple white shirt and black trousers, a typical outfit for such weather. Despite the occasional curious glances he received for being on his own, what stood out more were his striking looks. His handsome features were accentuated by a hint of loneliness in his vibrant green eyes, yet there was an undeniable determination gleaming within them—a drive to achieve something meaningful.

Unfazed by the occasional scrutiny, Nyrel made his way into the cemetery. As he walked, he noticed a stand of roses, their delicate petals catching his attention. The flowers were offered freely, so Nyrel approached and picked three of them, his fingers caressing their velvety softness.

Quietly navigating through the rows of graves, Nyrel absorbed the atmosphere. The sound of sobbing and mournful whispers echoed in the air, a testament to the sorrow that embraced this solemn place.

Eventually, he reached a trio of graves. The first one bore the name "Loic Loyster" engraved on a polished marble stone. Nyrel walked toward it, a faint smile gracing his lips. Speaking softly, he addressed his late father. "Dad, not much has changed since last week. I'm still spending time with Shayna, but don't misunderstand. She seems to like me, but... I feel like I'm tainted, like I'm not worthy of her."

Moving on, Nyrel approached the next grave, where "Maeva Loyster" was etched onto the stone. His voice carried a tinge of longing as he spoke to his departed mother. "Mom... I've been studying diligently, completing my homework every night. So, please don't worry about my future. I've been considering becoming an engineer, just as you always wished. But I'm still unsure which field to specialize in... I... I miss your cooking, Mom. Everything tastes bitter..."

Finally, he arrived at the grave marked with the name "Chloe Loyster." Nyrel's gaze softened as he addressed his late younger sister. "Chloe... We may have fought and bickered incessantly, but those moments were the ones I cherished the most in my life. I was such a misfit at school, but with you, Dad, and Mom, I felt more at ease. I know I repeat myself, but... I miss you, little sister."

Putting the roses on each graves, he stepped back, before taking a moment to survey the three graves before him. Emotions welled up inside him as he whispered, "I miss all of you guys."

Lost in his thoughts, Nyrel remained in that tranquil space for a few more minutes until a voice interrupted his solitude from the left.

"Nyrel?"

Turning his head, Nyrel's gaze met the stunning beauty of Ephera, a classmate of his. Ephera instinctively covered her mouth in surprise upon seeing Nyrel in his current state. "Oh, you look completely different today. Why the disguise at school?"

Shaking his head, Nyrel denied the notion. "I'm not disguising myself. I simply prefer to keep my face, expressions, and eyes away from prying eyes when I'm at school." He wore contact lenses but chose to wear them only outside of school when he was alone.

"You look better this way," Ephera commented, her smile capable of making any man's heart skip a beat. However, Nyrel had grown accustomed to her charm, and his troubled state of mind prevented him from fully appreciating her presence.

"I saw you here last week too," Ephera spoke up again, her curiosity piqued.

Nyrel, still fixated on the graves, responded without turning to face her. "Are you stalking me?"

Surprised by the question, Ephera pointed to a grave a few rows ahead of them. "No, my mother rests here."

"I see," Nyrel acknowledged, understanding her connection to the place.

Ephera, intrigued by Nyrel's aloofness, moved closer to him. She wondered aloud, "Why do you distance yourself from others?"

Turning his body to face her directly, Nyrel posed a question of his own. "I could ask you the same, Ephera."

"Hm?"

"Do you like me, Ephera?" Nyrel asked suddenly.

Caught off guard by Nyrel's unexpected inquiry, Ephera stumbled over her words. "W-What?"

"People tend often to overreact sometimes to hide their true intentions and you are doing it all the time."

"..."

A smile played on Nyrel's lips as he interpreted her silence. "You don't love me, Ephera. You're merely trying to seduce me. I don't need to know the reasons, but I want you to know that I see through your intentions."

Suddenly, Ephera blurted out, "My father forced me."

Nyrel arched an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Your father forced you?"

Nodding, Ephera confirmed, "Yes, he wants you as his son-in-law."

Considering Ephera's prominent background, Nyrel questioned her father's motives. "You come from a prominent family. What reason would your father have to desire someone like me? I have nothing to offer you."

Ephera shook her head, expressing her uncertainty. "I don't know. I truly don't understand it myself." Closing the distance between them, she gently brushed against Nyrel, her black skirt lightly grazing his pants.

Feeling her touch, Nyrel involuntarily flinched and took a step back, creating some distance between them.

Observing his reaction, Ephera's smile widened. "You're not as insensitive as you may appear. So, do I stand a chance?"

Ignoring her question, Nyrel redirected the conversation to Ephera's brother. "Does your brother, Emric, know how low your father has stooped?"

"No," Ephera replied, her tone conveying a sense of helplessness.

With a tinge of sarcasm, Nyrel remarked, "What a great father you have," before turning to walk away.

Desperate to keep Nyrel's attention, Ephera called out to him, her voice tinged with nervousness. "W-Wait! What can I do to make you fall for me?"

Casting a side glance at Ephera and scanning her up and down, "Your body. I want your body."

"Okay."

"...what?" Nyrel stopped his steps.

Ephera's smile widened further, and her deep blue eyes shimmered with a hint of moisture as she extended her arms towards him. "My body. It's yours. Take it."

Nyrel's frown deepened, accentuating the lines on his forehead, as Ephera's words echoed in his mind. His lightless green eyes, devoid of their usual spark, met Ephera's gaze. He couldn't help but notice the striking contrast between her outward beauty and the unsettling absence of genuine emotion behind her smile.

'Who is she?'