Huh?
Mike blinked several times, trying to process what he was seeing.
His hands weren't his hands.
They were bigger—pale, with long fingers that looked like claws. And not only that—they were covered by light gray gauntlets, designed to mimic bones and joints.
What the fuck…?
Slowly, as if he was afraid to confirm what he already suspected, he looked down at the rest of his body.
And there it was.
A full suit of armor.
Light gray, almost silver under the torchlight.
His chest was covered by a cuirass with cracks and raised details shaped like human ribs, like someone had designed armor based on a skeleton.
The shoulders were broad, with massive pauldrons, giving him an imposing, threatening look.
His legs were also covered by plates of the same material, engraved with what looked like runes or symbols he couldn't read.
This can't be happening.
Mike stood up—or at least, he tried.
His body responded with surprising ease, like it weighed less than it should have.
What the fuck is this?
He took a step forward, and the metallic sound of the armor echoed through the entire hall.
Clank.
Clank.
Every step was heavy and imposing, like he was walking in a video game cutscene.
And speaking of video games…
Mike looked around more carefully.
The hall was huge.
The walls were black stone, with gigantic columns rising up to a ceiling so high he could barely make it out in the darkness.
Torches with violet flames were placed strategically along the walls, lighting the place with an unsettling glow.
And in front of him—about thirty meters away—was that massive door.
It was so big it looked designed for something a lot larger than a human.
It was made of dark metal, engraved with demonic creatures and symbols he didn't recognize.
This… this looks like a boss room from an RPG.
The realization hit him like a bucket of ice water.
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
Mike brought his hands up to his head—or at least he tried, but the gauntlets slammed into something hard.
A helmet.
He was wearing a fucking helmet.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
The conclusion was obvious.
The hall that looked straight out of an RPG.
The intimidating armor.
The imposing throne.
The fact that whatever "god" that was had revived him by force.
I reincarnated as a villain.
As a fucking villain…
Seriously? SERIOUSLY?
Mike clenched his fists, feeling rage start to boil in his chest.
Damn you, you bullshit god. Damn you a thousand times.
Not only did you revive me against my will, you turned me into the fucking villain of the story.
What's next? Am I supposed to fight a hero powered by friendship?
Am I going to have to give some speech about conquering the world right before I get killed?
This is bullshit. Absolute, complete bullshit.
Send me back to the afterlife, you bastard. NOW.
But of course, there was no answer.
Only the silence of the hall and the crackle of the torches.
Mike sighed, feeling frustration mix with bitter resignation.
Great. Just great.
First I die from electrocution because of an idiot.
Then I get forced to come back to life.
And now I'm trapped in the body of a villain in what's probably some generic fantasy world.
Can this get any worse?
And as if the universe had been waiting for that question…
BOOM.
The massive door in front of him exploded.
Literally.
It blasted off its hinges with a deafening roar, crashing onto the stone floor and kicking up a cloud of dust and debris.
Mike froze, eyes wide.
WHAT THE FUCK?
And then, through the smoke and dust, a figure appeared.
A girl.
Short white hair shining under the torchlight.
Silver armor reflecting the light like it was made of pure silver.
A golden sword in her right hand, so bright it almost hurt to look at.
And above her head, floating as if it defied gravity, was a white halo shaped like a crown of thorns.
Oh, no.
Oh, no no no.
The girl stepped forward, and her eyes—an intense, determined blue—locked directly onto Mike.
"BASTARD!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the hall, full of fury and conviction.
And then, without giving him time to react, she charged at him at full speed, sword raised, with an expression that made it very clear she wasn't here to chat.
What?
NOW?
SERIOUSLY?
I JUST GOT REVIVED, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!
GIVE ME A SECOND TO PROCESS THIS!
But the heroine didn't seem interested in giving him time for anything.
She sprinted toward him at an insane speed, closing the distance in seconds.
Mike instinctively stepped back, raising his hands defensively.
"WAIT! WAIT A SECOND!" he shouted, panic and frustration mixing in his voice. "I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON!"
But she didn't stop.
"DIE, DEMON LORD!" she roared—and with an impossible leap, she launched into the air and came down toward him with the sword aimed straight at his head.
Ah, shit… this is gonna hurt.
Mike closed his eyes, bracing for the impact.
Damn you, you bullshit god.
If I survive this, I'm going to find a way to tell you to go fuck yourself personally.