Chapter 3
Before I knew it, dawn was breaking.
I blinked up at the dim ceiling, my vision still hazy.
I never imagined I’d end up in a situation like this.
At the moment, I had spent the entire night held tightly in the arms of the admiral, whose build was far larger than mine. His arm was firmly wrapped around my waist, leaving me no room to escape.
Fortunately, the cliché of “spending a passionate night with a man who despises me” had not occurred.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do…”
“I feel like I’m going crazy.”
After those contextless, pitiful murmurs, the sexy drunk had simply fallen asleep while clutching me tightly.
The man I saw last night felt completely different from the cold, ruthless admiral I knew—almost like he had a split personality.
Could this be the mental breakdown caused by chaos erosion that ability users supposedly suffer from?
Unlike other genres where supernatural powers appear, here, the overload of such abilities often began with mental illness.
Still, I had heard that imperial bloodlines possessed the highest level of resistance to chaos corruption—as long as they weren’t already damaged.
Maybe he was just so drunk he mistook me for another woman.
But then again… does the strongest man alive even get drunk?
Given my “dislike meter,” there was no way he had secretly liked me in the past or fallen for me at first sight. The simplest answer was that he just wasn’t in his right mind.
“Mm…”
At the low groan and the sound of him stirring, I flinched and shrank back.
I had no idea how he would react once fully awake.
There were only two possibilities: either he’d get angry and try to kill me, or he’d come after me demanding responsibility while carrying some strange affection.
From my perspective, both were equally disastrous.
Let’s be fair… and run.
The moment his grip loosened slightly, I decided to slip out of his arms. After some effort, I finally managed to free myself.
Just as I was about to quietly get off the bed—
Rustle!
“Ah!”
The bedsheets shifted loudly, and I lost my balance, falling backward.
My vision flipped—and I met the admiral’s expressionless face.
Before I could react, he had climbed over me, pinning me down. With one hand, he gripped both my wrists and forced them down.
“…Octavia.”
The way he said my name—and the sharpness in his raised eyes—was utterly chilling.
In his black irises, a ring of gold encircled his pupils with striking clarity.
“There have been people bold enough to sneak into my room before.”
It seemed he was fully sober now.
“What do you think happened to them?”
They probably all died.
I could feel the strength in the hand gripping my wrists steadily increasing. Whether it was the oppressive aura unique to imperial bloodlines or something else, even his voice alone made my blood run cold.
“A-ah, it hurts.”
The moment a pained sound escaped me, he sharply inhaled.
The golden-ringed pupils in his eyes expanded, then contracted.
He frowned as if struck by a headache, and his grip loosened.
I looked at him in confusion as he lowered his head, then slowly lifted his gaze again—this time glaring at me as if he might kill me.
“What did you do to me? If you don’t answer properly, I’ll kill you.”
It really felt like I was the one being wronged here.
As I met his murderous gaze, watching my dislike points skyrocket, I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.
Still… I might actually die, so I needed an excuse.
I came to retrieve the letter I sent you.
No—that wouldn’t work. The reasoning was flimsy, and I had stolen other letters too.
Should I pretend to be an obsessive fan from some skeptic fan club?
They say love is a kind of madness. Naturally, there were perverts willing to risk their lives to sneak into his bedroom. I didn’t know what became of them, but it surely wasn’t a pleasant end.
Still, I might have to lump myself in with them as an excuse.
He pressed down on my shoulder with one hand, urging an answer.
“Answer.”
“Yes.”
His lips twisted again as he watched me deliberately avoid his gaze.
“I’m asking what you did to me last night.”
That drunk really doesn’t remember anything.
I put on a vaguely sorrowful expression.
“You… don’t remember?”
“What?”
I closed my eyes and turned my head away, looking deeply hurt.
“Last night, you were very drunk… and we ended up making eye contact… then you, Admiral, were the one who pulled me into bed…”
It was a classic setup for obsessive attachment—but I had no choice if I wanted to get out of this situation alive.
Before I could even elaborate further, he tilted his head slightly.
“We slept together?”
“Yes. You said you felt like you were going crazy.”
I stuck strictly to the truth, just in case he had some kind of lie-detection ability.
We had slept together—and he had said that.
I once again adopted the expression of a pitiful, tragic heroine and asked:
“Did you mistake me for another woman? Or was it because you were drunk?”
But my act clearly didn’t work on him.
“Do you think this is the first time I’ve heard such a lie?”
His eyes, still pinning me in place, moved closer as if searching through my thoughts.
“I’m not insane enough to drunkenly embrace just any woman.”
From my perspective, last night, he had been plenty insane.
And yet, how could he be so certain when he remembered nothing?
“Even if, by some chance, that did happen—”
After firmly denying it, he added coldly:
“It was a mistake. So get out.”
I stared at him, stunned.
Not only was he breaking the cliché—he was also refusing to take responsibility like complete trash?
“Ah, yes. I’ll kindly overlook your adorable little mistake, Admiral.”
God, thank you!
For a moment, I thought I was going to lose both my precious life and my dislike generator.
Sure, I was the one who snuck in, and technically nothing happened—but still, this was a huge relief.
If this had turned into the dreaded “I spent the night with the strongest villain destined to destroy me, and now he’s obsessed with me” route, I would’ve had to act like trash myself to escape it.
Just as I was about to slip away while everything was being dismissed as a misunderstanding—
“Huh?”
A rectangular window suddenly appeared before my eyes.
…▒▒, ▒▒ contact increases value
Target – Kelsedny Descartes
The system window, which had only ever shown rises and falls like stock prices, was giving me a hint for the first time.
The other words were corrupted, but one thing was clear—the admiral was my primary target.
And… contact?
Without thinking, I abruptly sat up and placed my hand over his large one.
In that instant, the oppressive aura and killing intent surrounding him vanished like they had been blown away by the wind.
Dislike increased [+1,000]
Looking back, every time we had touched—from our first meeting until now—the score had increased by a thousand.
Adding in everything else he had just contributed—
Current total dislike: [5,500]
It felt like finding hope at the bottom of Pandora’s box.
Suddenly, the world seemed beautiful.
Just like purification here… could it be that physical contact increases the dislike score depending on intensity?
I was tempted to experiment, but judging by the savage look in his eyes, saying “I need to test something, so let’s try a kiss” would probably get me killed.
“By the way.”
Curious, I asked the still icy-faced admiral:
“Why did you catch me at the banquet yesterday? Were you worried I’d get hurt?”
If he disliked me by a thousand points every time we touched… then why?
He didn’t strike me as the altruistic type either.
His lips twisted slightly.
“I don’t care whether you fall or crack your head open. Let go.”
He immediately shook my hand off.
To him, it might have been a light motion—but compared to him, I had the durability of a paper doll.
My body toppled like a reed in the wind, about to fall off the bed—
Thud!
Just like at the banquet, he grabbed my hand again on pure reflex.
Half my body dangled off the bed as I looked at him in confusion.
Dislike increased [+1,000]
At this rate, that score was more than enough for him to throw me out the window.
Was his body acting before his mind? Or was something broken?
Still expressionless, he stared at me and asked an utterly baffling question.
“Why is this happening?”
That was exactly what I wanted to ask.
“Maybe…”
Leaning back, I let out a long sigh before lowering my gaze to meet his.
“Do you need someone to go to a psychiatric hospital with you?”
I was starting to feel genuinely concerned for his mental health.
There was a saying that in hell, they mix together all your worst tastes and force them on you.
Was I supposed to conquer some unheard-of combination of hostile relationship + alcoholism + tragic instability + strangely warm trash-tier uniformed handsome man?
I hurried out of the annex and changed my clothes.
Since he hadn’t handcuffed me or taken my life, it seemed he truly intended to pass everything off as a misunderstanding.
At least I had secured the letter that could be used as my weakness—so my main objective was achieved…
“…Damn.”
No, it wasn’t.
It must have fallen under the bed. The hiding spot had been cramped and dark, so I hadn’t even thought to check.
“Well, it happens. I’ll just have to try again.”
I’d be seeing the admiral again anyway, and I had already obtained the suspicious coded letter from Dominique.
I wasn’t the type to be easily discouraged by failure.
Even when I failed, I kept trying again—staying up all night, using every method possible to achieve my goal.
As a former senior researcher, I was practically made to be a villain.
Besides, I had achieved thousands of points of dislike just last night.
I didn’t know why he hated me this much, but I was nothing but grateful.
Still… what if we really had slept together?
Human greed knows no bounds—but there was no need to go that far. I shook my head.
At this rate, just casually holding hands whenever I had the chance would be more than enough.
“If I drove him crazy, shouldn’t he take responsibility?”
The image of the admiral from last night kept replaying in my mind.
Was there some fatal woman who drove him mad—someone who never even appeared in the original story?
I didn’t know much about his private life, since he barely appeared—but there was clearly some tragic backstory behind this decadent, mentally unstable, yet handsome man whose mind and body didn’t seem aligned.
Or maybe he really did have a split personality.
Lost in thought as I walked along the garden path, I suddenly stopped.
Another question had occurred to me.
“…Octavia.”
Wait.
Had I ever told him my name?
