Chapter 1: 1. the starting line (1)

“Arg,” clutching at her throat, she stumbled. She didn’t expect the pairs of hands that grabbed her and held her weak body up. She was in her apartment, alone. No one would ever enter without her say so.

Who was grabbing her? Did someone actually break in? What person would be stupid enough?

“Young ma- “

“Mast- “

“Hurry- “

“Get the Du- “

“Bro- “

The voices kept coming, falling over each other. Making her pounding head even worse. She couldn’t focus. She grabbed her head and grunted. Annoyance bubbled in her chest before shock and anger took over. She tried clawing at her hair but touched nothing other than short locks. What bastard would dare touch her hair?
As the seconds ticked by, controlling her body became harder, and harder. She could feel her legs buckle as they tried to keep her weight up. Her body sank to the ground after she gave up. She felt the thump as her knees met the ground. A cold pressure pressed against her forehead as her face merged with the tiles. The cool temperature helped her head, and she drew a ragged breath. She glanced up. Observing the blurry scene of feet rushing around her. What was happening? It was too dark, the walls, the floor, blurry or not. She knew every corner of her apartment and this was not it.

“A-ah,” she squeezed her lips together and pressed her head back against the floor. She clenched her eyes shut, trying to ignore the embarrassment at the pathetic noise.

She felt her body turn feverish with heat and the sticky feeling of too much sweat. A fast-acting poison? More pain spiked through her body, and she grunted. She hated this, hated pain. She doesn’t know what to compare it to.

“Le- “

Lifting her head, she tried to look at the person crouched in front of her. To her annoyance, she couldn’t focus on him, but she tried. Something clawed at her head, telling her he was important.

“Relax, the more you fight it, the more it hurts. Let it go.” His voice was a smooth thick baritone, one she was certain she’s never heard before. She cataloged all the males she interacted with and her certainty grew. This man was new.

Fight it? She took in his words. Fight what? Her brows furrowed, and she grunted at a new spike. She grimaced, curling up even more. Let what go? What is she meant to let go of? It made no sense. She wasn’t holding on to anything.

“You’re still fighting it.” The man sounded exasperated. She grew even more annoyed with him. She wanted to cuss him. It would help if she knew what she wasn’t supposed to be fighting. She gasped and tilted forward. Her eyes slipped closed. To be honest, if she was dying, it was a lame way to go. She would have preferred dying in her sleep. Far less pain that way.

-

The butler sighed for the hundredth time since his young master had his awakening. He’d panicked at first when the young master grunted and started clutching at his throat. So did all the other servants in the area, few as they were. They didn’t care as much as he had. It was his duty to care for and protect the young master. If anything had happened, he’d have been furious at the culprit and himself for failing.

He was thrumming with excitement now, compared to the terror he felt a few hours before. The hunter class was a dream for most humans. To have a god acknowledge you and grant you the ability to become something more. The young master was one of those now. He sighed to himself in pity. The hunter class always brought danger and quests. He can already feel the gray hairs forming.

He was too young for this.

“Can you believe he actually got it?”

A group of servants stood gossiping. Their low voices and crude eyes, their twisted lips and mocking voices. He hid his annoyance as he passed by them. He thought that the Duke of the household was far too lax with the servants. Allowing them to get away with speaking ill of his oldest son.

“I would suggest you keep your opinions to yourself while working for this family.” His voice was low but calm, “and what are you standing around for? Is there not enough work? Should I find you some?”

The servants scurried away, shooting him fearful and annoyed glances. They could do nothing to him. He was the personal butler to the oldest son. He had more power in this house than them. His lips twisted into a satisfied smile as the servant who spoke ill of the young master fell. He expected her ankle to give her problems for a while.

-

You are reading story Throwaway Villain at novel35.com

A light trickle of a piano playing reached her ears. It was a peaceful melody, but not something she’d expect to hear. Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up straight in the bed. Her heart pounded in her ears as she scanned the room. Forest green walls with small patterns painted in a lighter green, almost unnoticeable. There was a dark wooden desk in the corner with, she shuddered, paperwork scattered on top. Quills and a pot of ink, a small stone creature that she couldn’t place. A long, pretty couch with an empty table in front of it. A stone fireplace with a painting of a woman that she has had no recollection of above it. Open glass doors leading to a balcony, a farming community behind gigantic stone walls. Dark wooden floors and a giant bed. She frowned at the unfamiliar sight.

After climbing out of the bed, she made her way around the room. She glanced out beyond the balcony. Estimating the distance to the bright green grass below. Her eyes fell on the tree with its sturdy branches. Turning her attention back to the inside of the room, she allowed her hands to trail the patterns along the wall. It wasn’t her bedroom, yet she felt like it was. The strange sense of belonging that settled in her mind picked at her curiosity. She picked at the decor hanging from the top of the bed, a sheet with glinting little orbs and puffy tassels. She rolled the gold orb between her fingers. It wasn’t real. Her eyes took in all the pieces attached to the sheet. Right?

She pushed open a door and peeked inside. The sight of the bathroom stole her breath. Stepping in, she allowed her eyes to flick around, taking in the marbled space. She let her fingers trail around the gold designs with a feather-light touch. She glanced to the side and choked back a scream.

A man clutched at his chest, staring wide-eyed at her. He gripped at the basin, trying to hold himself up. Straightening her stance, she lifted her hand from the white marble. The man followed suit. She struggled to control her breathing for a few seconds.

“Oh, my god.”

His lips formed each word as she spoke them. She stepped closer to the full-body mirror and reached out to poke at it. Her finger and the man’s touched as close as they could with it being a reflection. This was her or now, him.

“What the hell.”

Her heart pounded. She felt as if something was stuck in her throat. This was not something she expected. She lifted her hands, analyzing them. They were broader than what her old ones had been. She plucked at her clothes, lifting her head to look in the mirror again. The style she was wearing right now reminded her of Egypt, or ancient Egypt. Her hair was also weird. It made her feel like she was ancient, but her face showed youth. She didn’t even look like she was in her late twenties, let alone thirty-six like she had been.

“Young Master!” the chipper call came from her room. She swallowed back a sound of surprise. Her best bet was to play along and figure out what was happening. She needed information. She needed someone to give it to her. She cleared her throat, testing out the voice that accompanied her new body.

“In here, I’ll be out in a second.”

The person called out in acknowledgment as she covered her mouth with her hands. Her voice. Man, if this was a man she met on the street, she’d have turned to goo. How can a person have a voice that hot?

Stepping out of the bathroom, her eyes zeroed in on a young woman. The woman’s hair fascinated her. It was blue, so inky that it was almost black. How much dye would she need to keep her hair like that? There wasn’t too much so that you would keep mistaking it for black. It balanced between the two colors. The hairdresser must be a pro. She was kind of jealous.

“I’m happy you’re awake, Young Master,” the woman beamed at her and she threw a smile back. The woman blinked at her as she trailed closer.

“Ah,” she rubbed at her neck, “what exactly happened?”

“Young Master doesn’t remember? You gained the Hunter Class Young Master! We’re all very excited!” The woman smiled.

Hunter class? was she joking? Like that stupid story?

“The pain?” She asked.

“Yes, it’s said to be common for those who become blessed with the class to feel pain as it settles into their body. Usually, the more powerful the god-given skill is, the more painful it is.”

“Right.”

Dropping onto the bed, she sat in silence for a second before looking up at the Inky-haired beauty. Her eyes were sharp, and dark lava in color. She wore a loose style of dress with fabric that gathered together and somewhat hung over a corset. Colored in white, but lined with a shocking deep blue. She could have written it off as the woman matching it with her hair. Only the pin that kept the loose fabric together showed that it was not the case. Even with the distance between them. The Black shadowed knight. His raised sword and the electric blue sun illustrated behind him were visible to her sight. The house symbol of Hosyn.

“Faier?”

“Yes, Young Master?”

A breath escaped her lips. She was in a novel.

You can find story with these keywords: Throwaway Villain, Read Throwaway Villain, Throwaway Villain novel, Throwaway Villain book, Throwaway Villain story, Throwaway Villain full, Throwaway Villain Latest Chapter