"I have returned to life... but is returning from the dead an experience worth having? If someone were to try it... would it be worth the struggle?"
Sam had suffered the very definition of suffering itself... even his agony felt like a sick, new layer of a twisted ordeal. To continue living was, in itself, a submission to an unsatisfying way of existence. It was his very lack of satisfaction with life that kept him going. A strange certainty that things would improve... someday... or tomorrow... who knows?
If there were a suffering worth enduring, then why not? Addiction, risk, skirting around the most dangerous boundaries.
But after Sam endured an experience akin to immortality on a chillingly cold scale, he felt—for the first time after facing himself—a profound coldness. His life was not worth the struggle. Trivial goals for an even harsher suffering. Why not just go to a brothel? Why not steal money to live contentedly?
All of this must be achieved at any cost... so that no other desire remains to bind him to life.
The eyes of Sam, sitting on the empty clinic chair, became terrified of desire itself. He must fulfill his cravings as quickly as possible to return to that void and live in peace once more.
Every moment must be worth it... every single moment.
"Oh, oh... look who it is... How are we feeling?"
Dr. Tom Harry approached Sam, standing before him with a tablet in hand, tapping away while simultaneously peering at Sam.
"Fine... what about you?"
The doctor patted Sam on the shoulder as he sat there in the clinic.
"I'm good. You're being discharged today. Are you ready?"
Sam had spent five days here since he woke up... sitting alone. The only person who visited him was Sarah, who stopped by whenever she had the chance. During her last visit, she returned his stolen phone, mentioned she had "dealt" with the criminals who beat him, and left. Sam simply thanked her; he couldn't offer more. Yet, every time he looked at Sarah, strange thoughts flooded his mind. Inspiring thoughts... exactly what he needed.
An hour later, Sam was ready. He signed the discharge papers and finally stepped back onto the grounds of the "Academy Lands" after a long absence.
His debt to Sarah was greater than ever. During his tragic "ecstatic" phase, he had sent her the Fire Queen's Mana Technique to ask for more money, but he had almost forgotten to tell her about it.
But what mattered now was returning to Clara, who hadn't even asked about him during his long disappearance. Had she forgotten him?
Sam walked the paved path until he reached the girls' dormitory and headed to the upper floors toward Clara's room. He didn't have the keys, so he knocked. It was 7:00 AM; the students should still be there. He kept knocking, but there was no answer, until a female student stepped out and looked at the short boy knocking on Clara's door.
"Are you Clara Smorgoth's servant?"
Sam nodded, turning his head toward her.
"Don't you know? Clara has been expelled."
What?! Expelled? Why? What the hell happened here?
"What happened?" Sam asked, his voice filled with alarm.
The girl was startled by his panic. "It's said she got into a serious physical altercation with a girl from Class 1-A... she was expelled because she injured that girl severely. I think the girl's name was... Benicia Smalls? I'm not sure."
"No, no, no... I don't care! Clara must be here, now!" Sam was seething inside. How could the Villainess be expelled so easily? How could the events shift this drastically?
"Don't worry, it's only a temporary expulsion, provided the collateral damages are paid. The other student forgave her for the injuries. Clara should return to the Academy in about a month."
A month... a whole month... impossible! The peak events of the first year were about to begin. He couldn't afford to be away from the Academy under any circumstances. But now, his mistress was gone, and he was her only personal servant. This was a critical stage; if he didn't navigate it correctly, he would never satisfy his desires.
Sam had defined three absolute, non-negotiable goals: First, sex. No rivals, no substitutes. He vowed he would not die a virgin. Second, wealth—masses of it. And finally, absolute power. Everything would be his, everything under his grip. He would no longer be the old Sam with modest ambitions; he would become the ultimate dream of every human being. Not because he craved it, but because when he died, there would be no reason to return.
Sam rushed out of the dormitory, needing to catch Sarah before she started her school day. As he hurried through the Academy grounds, someone noticed him. Edmund was playing tennis on a large court with a beautiful girl. When he saw Sam passing by, he tossed his racket aside and chased after him.
"Sam! Sam, wait! Where have you been all this time? You missed the sword lessons!"
Oh, right. He had completely forgotten the sword lessons he had promised Edmund he would attend.
"I... I'm truly sorry. A lot has happened."
As Edmund noticed the white hair and the bruises and marks from the beating, he realized that Sam had truly been through a traumatic and difficult time.
"To be honest... I feel bad for you. I don't know what you've been through, but you probably don't know what happened to Clara, do you?"
Sam shook his head in regret. "I just found out a moment ago. Don't worry... everything just needs to wait a bit. I'll see what I can do now. I don't have enough money to travel to the Smorgoth Fiefdom, you know that."
Edmund was genuinely surprised by Sam's words. "Don't you have a mother or father to provide for you?"
When Sam fell silent for a moment, Edmund felt a pang of shame. "Sorry, man, if I overstepped. If you ever need money, just say the word."
"No, thank you."
As Sam finally walked away, the beautiful girl with red hair approached Edmund and asked a simple question. "So, he's awake... That's strange. He looks completely different."
Edmund chuckled softly as he watched Sam's retreating figure. "I was wrong to leave him like that. Where will he go now?"
"No need to worry, my aunt will take care of him," she replied.
Edmund looked into the girl's eyes. "Do you mean Sarah? Why would she care for him? Is there a relationship between them?"
The girl nodded, smiling as she recalled Sam's new, somehow provocative look. "It seems as though they've known each other for a while... I'm not sure."
Edmund sneered. "Great makeup... I like it."
Sam arrived quite late at Sarah's house. The villa was eerily empty, without a single servant in sight; it seemed she lived here entirely alone.
Sam sat on the pavement in front of the villa's gate, gazing at the cars passing by in the early morning light. He had come to Sarah for something of particular importance—something he couldn't afford to miss. If he succeeded at any cost, he would fulfill one of his goals swiftly.
He sat there for a long time... about six hours. He didn't even feel the time passing, as if it were a mere moment; he no longer cared for the passage of time. For a second, it felt as though every moment had lost the heavy weight it once held in the past.
Suddenly, a black car pulled up directly in front of the villa. From it emerged Sarah's "loli" figure: short stature, a beautiful but sharp face, and a petite frame. When her eyes met his, she found Sam sitting on the pavement, waiting.
"How long have you been here?"
Sam tried to recall. "About six hours, I think."
Sarah scoffed inwardly. Six hours? Are you kidding me? "Never mind. Come in. we have work to do."
Sam remembered something. "Right... where did your servants go?"
Sarah sighed, looking at Sam's face. "They all resigned."
What? Had all of this happened while he was in a coma? He had missed so much.
Once they entered the villa, Sam approached Sarah, closing the distance slightly. "To be honest... you're all alone here. Have you never dated anyone?"
Sarah laughed at Sam's words, sensing their weight. "Why? For feelings? No... I don't need that at all. Now, why don't you go and fix us a drink?"
Damn it, Sam thought. She's trying to deflect. He wouldn't stay silent.
"Do you really think you don't need it? You haven't truly lived enough. I won't say much... but a leader shouldn't remain isolated."
"And why do you care about my isolation?"
Sam moved in dangerously, his steps calculated. "Oh, it matters. It matters to me specifically. I am an incredibly reckless fool—remember that. I will try in every possible way to exploit your solitude and your precious time, creeping in like a lizard... until I have you and we have sex."
Audacity? No, it was sheer insolence. Insolence to the absolute limit.
"As I said, I am very reckless... very impulsive. Therefore, I am officially asking you this: What is your opinion on sex?"
Sarah turned bright red at Sam's bold, unfiltered words.