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How Could the Villainous Young Master Be a Saintess?-Chapter 73: Villain has standard for making friends
After eating and drinking, Vinny quickly left the banquet and returned to his room with his few belongings.
The people there were all young masters and young ladies—he didn’t belong among them.
If too many people noticed him, he’d probably be met with even more cold stares. Better to get out early.
Looking at his current virtue points made him a little uneasy.
In the end, he had taken advantage of Aesphyra’s presence, making their already fragile relationship even worse.
But oh well. It was done.
Did it even matter?
He didn’t believe Aesphyra would strike him in public.
Kill him? Would she really want to dirty her hands?
At most, she’d come after him during the Dungeon assessment.
But the Dungeon was huge. It’s not like it was filled with sunshine and butterflies.
Even if she stomped him to death, it’d be no different from crushing a cockroach.
She’d have to consider whether doing so would dirty her shoes.
Besides, Aesphyra was something of a germaphobe.
But her cleanliness was... very selective.
When it came to physical contact with men, she was more obsessive than anyone.
That’s why Aesphyra always wore silk gloves at banquets.
If she couldn’t avoid shaking someone’s hand, the gloves gave her an easy out. She could just throw them away after.
But if she ever touched a man’s skin directly—by accident—she’d be irritated for the rest of the day and wash her hands at least ten times.
On the other hand, when it came to women—especially pretty ones—Aesphyra’s cleanliness vanished into thin air.
She’d peel off her gloves just to hold their hands, and everyone around would sigh, “What a virtue.”
So, all things considered, it was a smart move for Vinny to back off when Aesphyra got close tonight.
If he had pushed it any further, he would’ve really crossed the line.
Sure, he could fight back when she tried to disgust or toy with him, but crossing her bottom line?
That was suicide.
She might actually humiliate him in front of everyone.
There were traces of this in the original game.
A noble young man with a personality similar to Vinny’s—some clueless clown—once reached out to touch Aesphyra’s hair.
Before his hand could even get close, Aesphyra smiled... and cut it off.
In short, even if Vinny had taken advantage of Aesphyra today, he’d kept his cool and hadn’t gone too far.
A shame, Vinny sighed quietly.
He really didn’t want anything to do with Aesphyra.
But there was no way around it.
His current trajectory had already veered so far from the original Vinny that it was only a matter of time before Aesphyra noticed and started investigating him.
Sometimes he wondered—
What if he just told her the truth? That he was a transmigrator?
That he wasn’t the Vinny she remembered?
Not that anyone would believe such an absurd claim.
Even if Aesphyra, as a reborn person herself, could wrap her head around it... the trust between them wasn’t nearly deep enough for that.
In the end, she didn’t trust him. And he didn’t trust her.
In fact, Vinny had always been haunted by a single question: Was he really Vinny?
If you said yes, he was just a transmigrator.
If you said no, he still had all of Vinny’s memories.
The only difference between him and the original was an extra lifetime’s worth of memories.
But that’s more than enough to change someone completely.
In other words, you could argue that he was just Vinny—Vinny with someone else’s memories layered on top.
So... did he transmigrate into Vinny and inherit his memories?
Or was he Vinny, just with an added lifetime’s worth of experience?
...Maybe there’s no difference between the two.
A person is shaped by their memories and experiences.
The one who inherited Vinny’s past was no longer who he once was.
And the original Vinny, if burdened with an entire extra life, would no longer be the same either.
That was the simplest explanation.
After eating and taking a quick shower, Vinny felt tired. It was time to sleep.
He vaguely remembered sensing several eyes on him when he left the banquet—but he hadn’t cared.
Probably just a few nobles who didn’t like him.
Bang!
He tossed the small bag to the floor. It didn’t look like much, but it was heavy. As for what was inside...
The night passed without a word.
At dawn, Vinny yawned his way into the dining hall, still groggy.
Cariliman Academy was definitely wealthy.
Even during travel, the food was amazing. For breakfast: unlimited bacon, bread, eggs, and milk.
Back home, Vinny’s morning meal was a few slices of rock-hard black bread.
The food here was so good, he half-considered never leaving.
Life as a coachman at Cariliman wouldn’t be half bad—eating delicious food every day, traveling the world.
That was more or less the dream he'd had in his past life.
After all, it was the number one academy. Of course the food had to be good.
So, wiping his mouth, Vinny called out to the chef.
“Mr. Chef, breakfast’s a little plain today. How about some abalone, lobster, steak, or salmon?”
“...”
The chef was speechless.
This kid never passed up a chance to eat for free, huh?
After being promptly kicked away by the chef, Vinny obediently found a seat and began his meal.
“Oh? Who is it? Isn’t that Lord Vinny?”
Vinny turned, a fried egg hanging from his mouth.
“Hmm?”
“Hey, it is you, Lord Vinny! Thought I’d mistaken someone else.” The young man with slicked-back hair walked over with a grin and sat down beside him, pretending to sling an arm around Vinny’s shoulder.
Vinny instinctively leaned away, dodging the contact.
“Uh uh...” The young man looked awkward for a moment but recovered quickly.
“Lord Vinny, long time no see. Do you still remember me?”
“You?” Vinny stared at him for a moment, then finally remembered.
Vinny hadn’t had many friends. But he’d had some hangers-on.
No—cronies wasn’t even the right word.
They were more like loafers who’d stick around to drink, slack off, and give him bad advice.
This guy was one of those: a self-proclaimed “strategist.”
The young man’s name was Malric, second son of a baron.
The title of baron was the lowest rank of hereditary nobility.
And as a second son, Malric had almost no shot at inheriting it.
In short, he barely even counted as nobility.
In fact, nobles like him were worse off than someone like Vinny.
Sure, Vinny was a nobody—but at least he was a notorious nobody.
There wasn’t a noble in the capital of Camellia who didn’t know who he was.
But Malric? He was from a family no one had even heard of.
The kind of guy who, when he introduced himself at a gathering, had to brace for the question, “Who?”
Only someone this insignificant, ignored by the aristocracy, would approach Vinny without hesitation.
But that didn’t mean he sincerely wanted to be friends.
Vinny, back then, hadn’t understood how others really saw him...
He walked the streets with a proud, confident demeanor, feeling quite pleased with himself.
He genuinely believed that, as the descendant of a goddess, his image couldn’t possibly be that bad—no matter what he did.
It was precisely because of that belief that he thought he could actually make genuine friends.
In truth, if he’d viewed things from a third-person perspective, he’d see it clearly: given his circumstances, anyone who approached him couldn’t be doing so out of sincerity. There had to be ulterior motives.
According to Vinny’s memories, Malric did have a few clever tricks—but they were all just petty schemes, not even worth taking seriously.
What was most shocking was this: every single time Malric showed up, Vinny ended up in some kind of trouble.
On the surface, Malric’s advice always looked helpful, like it could solve Vinny’s problems. But the moment he acted on it, things would go wrong in strange and unexpected ways—turning against him and only worsening his infamy.
Coincidence?
There’s no such thing.
Anyone with a brain could see something was off with Malric.
Anyone... except Vinny.
He never questioned Malric’s ideas. He simply blamed himself for poor execution.
But then again, Vinny had no experience dealing with people. He didn’t have a single real friend. It wasn’t surprising that he couldn’t tell good from bad.
Looking back through all the memories tied to Malric, it was clear—this guy had issues. The fact that he’d shown up here, now, only made things even more suspicious.
Vinny eyed the smiling, flattering Malric with a meaningful look—the guy looked exactly like the typical sycophant from some third-rate villain novel.
It was a shame he didn’t even have that kind of loyalty.
“Hey, isn’t this Malric? Long time no see,” Vinny said, restraining his usual expression and pretending to be pleasantly surprised.
“Hahaha, yes, it’s been a while! How have you been, Lord Vinny?” Slightly caught off guard by the warmth in Vinny’s voice, Malric recovered quickly.
“Very well, very well. Malric, you’re on this carriage too? How’d you manage that? Come on, tell me,” Vinny asked with fake curiosity.
That was the first gap.
Cariliman Academy might not have impossibly high standards, but it certainly wasn’t open to just anyone.
Vinny at least had the “descendant of the goddess” title and a recommendation from the king himself.
But Malric?
What the hell did he have?
“Ah, well, you know me,” Malric said, brushing it off. “I’ve got my ways. Don’t forget who gave you all those brilliant ideas back in the day, Lord Vinny!”
He dodged the question completely.
After all, in the past, Vinny never questioned anything too deeply.
“Of course, I remember.” Vinny smiled, the meaning behind it completely lost on Malric.
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“Let’s not worry about little details like that, Lord Vinny. We’re a team now! Together, we’re unstoppable!”
More like ‘Crouching Dragon and Hidden Chicken,’ Vinny thought to himself.
“The goddess really smiles on us! It’s destiny—we’re meant to achieve great things together!”
“Oh, absolutely. Brother, I missed you so much. With your clever strategies backing me up, it’ll be like adding wings to a tiger!”
“That’s the spirit, Lord Vinny. And listen—I’ve got a big plan this time.” Malric leaned in, smiling slyly.
“Oh? What kind of plan?” Vinny played along, though he subtly shifted away.
Even while pretending, he didn’t want Malric getting too close.
The guy had terrible breath. It was genuinely unpleasant.
“Ah? Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? We’re both candidates for Cariliman Academy now. And even though forming teams in the Dungeon is explicitly forbidden... helping each other out? Totally doable, right?”
“Let’s be real, Lord Vinny. Even if you’re a genius, there’s no guarantee you’ll pass, is there?”
“Well... that’s true,” Vinny said, frowning thoughtfully. “Even though I’m clearly gifted—both in wit and in martial prowess—I still have to watch out for ambushes. The royal capital is full of people jealous of my talent and beauty. Everyone wants a piece of me.”
Hearing this, Malric’s smile stiffened. For just a second, there was a flicker of contempt in his eyes.
Tch. You give him an inch, and he takes a mile. Has he even looked in a mirror?
Still, it was typical of Vinny to say something like that.
That was just who he was—a fool too easy to manipulate.
“Exactly! That’s what I mean. If we team up, I’ll handle the strategy, and you’ll handle the action. Together? Unstoppable!”
“Hm, sounds a little off,” Vinny said with a snort. “Sounds like you’re saying I’m only good at fighting. I think it’s more like: you handle the strategy, and I handle both strategy and action.”
Still as arrogant as ever, Malric cursed in his heart.
If Vinny hadn’t been such a convenient pawn, Malric would’ve cut ties with him long ago.
Did this idiot really think he was a big shot?
“So, what’s your plan?” Vinny asked, smiling like he was actually interested.
Might as well go all in on the act.
“Hehe, same old deal—we meet up inside the Dungeon. I’ll give you the details then.”
“Oh? That’s all?”
“But how am I supposed to find you in there?”
“Don’t worry, Lord Vinny. Do you think I’d come to you without a plan? Our bond runs deep. Would I let you suffer?”
“Oh? What are you hinting at?”
“Here’s the thing, Lord Vinny: I’ve got some inside information. Everyone’s going to be given a map during the Dungeon assessment.”
“Oh?” Vinny tilted his head, acting surprised.
“But here’s the catch—the map is incomplete. It only covers a small portion of the Dungeon. To get a full map, we have to /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ gather pieces from other candidates.”
“And that ties into our reunion how, exactly?”
“Simple. We form a little... let’s call it a ‘cooperative group.’ We all share the maps we collect, piece them together. Once we’ve got the whole thing, it benefits everyone!”
“Oh? So it’s not just the two of us, then?”
“Exactly! I’ve already gathered a few people.”
“But isn’t forming a team strictly prohibited?”
“This isn’t a team, it’s cooperation. Totally different! We’re just helping each other out with the map. Nothing illegal about that.”
“And don’t worry—they’re all people I know, and we’ve agreed not to attack each other.”
“Huh... makes sense,” Vinny nodded.
“Here’s how we’ll identify each other. Everyone in our group will wear a dark blue scarf wrapped around their right arm. That’s the mark. When you see it—those are our allies. Got it?”
“Oh, so that’s the system. I understand,” Vinny said, fighting back a smirk.
“Perfect! I’ll be wearing one too. Here’s yours.” Malric handed him a folded dark blue scarf.
“Keep it. That’s how we’ll find each other in there!”
“But I’m still a little worried...”
“Worried they’ll think we’re a team? Don’t be! I’ve got it covered. No one will be able to link us as a group.”
Because the moment they see me, they’ll start fighting, huh? Vinny thought.
“Alright, I believe in you. Don’t let me down.”
“Don’t worry, don’t worry. When have I ever let you down, Lord Vinny?” Malric puffed his chest with fake pride.
“When the time comes, we’ll all pass with flying colors and get admitted to Cariliman Academy together!”
“Okay!”