The Sad Love Story of the Evil Woman -5-: Within the Untold Tale

Unable to overcome the black magic, Ricardo let out a deep sigh as he stared up at the dilapidated ceiling.

"What rotten luck..."

Everything was a mess. His body. His mind. All of it.

It had started with the failure of that gamble, where two lives hung in the balance.

A life sentence of terminal illness—this was a first, even counting his past and present lives.

The fear of death didn't weigh as heavily as he'd imagined. Maybe because it was an expected outcome. It was a little scary at first, but as time passed, he found himself nodding calmly, ready to accept it.

More than the terror of death, he worried about the young lady left alone. He nodded in relief at having twisted her fate. He felt sad at the thought of never seeing her again, depressed that he couldn't share the novel's ending with her.

Still, he'd salvaged half the stakes in that gamble. Not a bad ending, right?

"What a fucking idiot."

A hollow laugh escaped him. Like Yuria had said, what was the reason for going this far? He didn't even know himself—how could he answer? He struggled to respond to her question too.

Six months after the young lady attempted black magic, he realized his body was breaking down. The skin discoloration, which he'd thought would stop at black spots, spread wider. The itch turned into pain that felt like it was scraping his bones.

The pain didn't ease over time; his breathing grew ragged. He'd thought he could endure. He'd been healthy until then. He'd believed the goddess of luck would visit him once more.

But...

The status window offered no path of hope, as if demanding he take responsibility for his own mistake.

"Cheap bastard."

It never showed up when he needed it. That damn status window.

There was a way to survive: Elisec, the tears of the god. But Elisec played a key role in the novel, and he didn't know its location anyway. Sacrificing a hero who saved countless lives just to save himself? That didn't sit right.

So he'd chosen farewell, and now he lay here alone.

He'd wanted to stay by her side until the end, but he didn't want her to see him so pathetic. He didn't want to be a burden or show her his dark side. Showing her his crumbling form—that was something he couldn't bear.

No matter how much they bickered, he wanted their story to end beautifully. Like a never-ending tale where she lived well somewhere, becoming a cherished memory.

But things didn't go as planned. What started as a horrific bad connection had strangely become someone he yearned for.

The villainess from the novel. With her foul personality and love for tyranny. When he'd possessed this body, she'd been the one he most wanted to avoid. Yet somehow, she'd become the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠biggest presence in his life.

"She's a real villainess."

Lying in bed, he covered his heating eyes with his sleeve.

"So goddamn pretty... If her personality matched her looks, I wouldn't have given her a second glance."

It was the young lady's fault for being too beautiful, unbefitting a villainess. Their start had been the worst.

Back in the slums, she'd saved his life and given him a new home. Bickering with her, he'd grown attached. The resolve to run away someday had shifted to twisting her fate, and time with her became joyful.

Over those 13 years, Olivia the villainess had become a massive part of his life. An object of longing, hoping she'd be happy even without him... She'd come to him.

And now, it was time to burn that final flame.

Ricardo slowly rose from the bed. His immobile legs felt heavier than ever today. His condition was the worst, his breathing ragged, but the thought of seeing the young lady after so long almost made him smile.

He could last another two months if he thrashed around here, but he couldn't stand by as the woman he loved suffered. And he knew she wasn't one to go down quietly.

With a small smile, he stood.

· · ·

"Let's go."

It was time for his final duty as her butler.

*

Ricardo stood before Olivia, who had her head bowed.

The man she'd thought had abandoned her stood there in his black butler uniform, just as always.

Olivia's eyes trembled widely. Her lips quivered in shock as she clenched her fists and yelled at Ricardo.

"Why are you showing up now!"

It wasn't a shout of感動 from pent-up emotion—it was pure anger at her butler arriving far too late.

"Do you have any idea how much I've suffered!"

"My apologies. The long vacation was too tempting."

"You're docked a year's pay! And what was that about my personality?!"

Splat.

A rotten egg slid down Ricardo's forehead from above his awkwardly smiling head.

"This... is a bit much."

Thud. Thunk.

Stones and tomatoes thrown by the crowd landed on Ricardo's back, carrying their fury toward Olivia.

"Get out of the academy!"

"We should've kicked that villainess out ages ago!"

"Birds of a feather!"

"Teach that crazy bitch never to set foot here again!"

"Do you know how much grief you've caused me? You've ruined my academy life...!"

"Scram, you villainess!"

Ricardo gave a small smile as he looked at Olivia. No matter what fell on his back or what the crowd spewed, he checked her over with a gentle smile. Any injuries? Scrapes? He scanned her carefully.

"Everyone's making some pretty vicious jokes."

With a cold smile, Ricardo asked Olivia,

"Shall I kill them all?"

His tone was kind, truly meaning it if she wished. He could do it, even with his dying body. Especially because it was dying—he could dance on the edge of the blade.

Olivia's eyes shook as she realized his sincerity. His words were light, like suggesting a stroll, but she knew how he'd act on her answer.

Slowly, a red aura leaked from behind Ricardo. The vicious aura, unlike any she'd seen, swiftly dominated the crowd. The insults aimed at her fell silent under his killing intent. The filth raining down was blocked by his aura.

Ricardo dusted off his hands with a smile.

"Just kidding."

He knelt slightly and stroked Olivia's hair.

"So."

Then he took the black object from her hand. Gripped so tightly, soaked in sweat, the black stone brought a wry smile to his lips.

"Let's not do this with your hands, miss."

I'd gone to all that trouble to stop the black magic—if you use it again, what was the point of me?

"You knew...?"

"I know everything about you. Thirteen years is enough to guess your panty color without looking."

"What color...?"

"White bear print?"

"No. Black."

"Oops... Well, good to know your panty color."

Ricardo laughed.

"Miss, it's time for you to live a new life."

The black stone he'd taken from her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hand gleamed with pitch-black darkness and began to tremble. Formulas. Calculations. Innate magical talent. And the experience of failing black magic. All conditions met—Olivia was primed to become the worst witch. Plus, the emotional swamp dragging her toward darkness was enough to corrupt her.

"So."

Ricardo smiled faintly and pulled Olivia into a tight hug.

"Let's stop this."

He bit his lower lip, becoming her shadow amid the abuse and persecution, tears welling as he held back sobs. His reddened eyes brimmed; a small teardrop rolled down his cheek. With trembling eyes, a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠faint light sparked in his hand.

And at that moment,

Ricardo bid Olivia farewell.

"I hope the memories with me were happy ones."

"Why so sudden...?"

"Just feeling sentimental today."

"No... something's different."

"Same as always. Whatever."

"It was a good life."

Ricardo's body burned away. Leaving scars etched deep into his flesh. Hiding the wounds Yuria never knew. With a small smile, he finished his goodbye.