Villain: Your Heroines Were Delicious

Chapter 172: Chapter 37

Monday morning arrived with a heavy, oppressive atmosphere that seemed to cling to the school gates.

The weekend’s events—the street fight, the acquisition of his new skill, and the encounter with the invisible predator—had changed the rhythm of Taro’s heart.

He stood by the concrete pillar of the entrance, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his eyes scanning every face that passed through the gates.

He was waiting for the only guy he knew that can help him.

And as he stood there, he intentionally ignored the curious and mocking gazes of the other students.

Even when the “Goddesses” of the school arrived—Rindou with her regal stride, Touka with her newfound brightness, and Haruka with her cold, mechanical precision—Taro kept his head down.

He acted as if he didn’t even perceive them, a stark contrast to the way he used to ogle them from the shadows.

Internally, however, he was a wreck.

The confidence he felt back then was being eroded by the sheer social weight of the Kageyama name.

’Would Kageyama Seijirou even talk to me?’ he wondered, his palms sweating. ’Would he even take me seriously? What if he thinks I’m playing some pathetic prank and just breaks my jaw right here in front of everyone?’

The urge to run, to slink back into the role of the invisible “mob,” was nearly overwhelming. After all, this was not his business, right?

Maybe… maybe I should just give up?

SLAP!

Taro struck his own cheek with enough force to leave a stinging red mark.

“Damn it, Taro!” he hissed to himself, the pain grounding him. “You said that with the System, you wanted to be a better man! You wanted to be a protagonist! Then why are you acting like such a coward now!?”

Just then, the crowd seemed to part instinctively as Seijirou and his group had arrived.

He was walking with a relaxed, effortless dominance that Taro himself was trying to imitate and failed, his hand entwined with Suzune’s.

Yukina and Emi walked flanking them, while further back, Rei was once again playing the role of the begrudging protector, holding a parasol over Erina and carrying her bags with a look of profound annoyance.

At the very rear, Shou, Renji, and Sakai maintained a respectful distance, acting as the vanguard for the group.

Taro took a deep, shuddering breath as he stepped out from the shadow of the gate, placing himself directly in Seijirou’s path.

The entire group came to a halt as a dozen pairs of eyes—some sharp, some murderous, some indifferent—focused solely on him.

Rei’s brow furrowed instantly, her temper flaring at the sight of her childhood friend’s “interference.” “Taro, what the hell are you—?”

She stopped, not for any other reason than the fact that Seijirou raised a hand to stop her.

The gesture was small, but the effect was absolute.

Rei stopped mid-sentence, her jaw snapping shut as she immediately backed down.

Seeing that, Taro felt a fresh sting of bitterness.

He had never seen her obey anyone like that aside from her parents. If he had ever tried to command her, he’d be lucky to escape with just a bruised ego; more likely, he’d be in the infirmary.

The difference in how they were treated was a chasm he couldn’t ignore.

“Do you need something?” Seijirou asked, his voice was calm, but it held the weight of a mountain.

Taro swallowed hard, his throat dry. “Kageyama… can I… can I talk to you for a bit? In… in private?”

Seijirou narrowed his eyes, observing Taro’s movements with his sharp, trained eyes.

He saw the shaking hands, the desperate set of the jaw, and the genuine nervousness.

It wasn’t quite the nervousness of a man hiding a weapon or a trap, but more of a raw, naked nervousness of someone who was reaching out for a lifeline and terrified it would be cut.

Seijirou had half a mind to ignore the “protagonist” and keep walking, but his curiosity, the part of him that wanted to know why this guy who was so afraid of him decided to approach him, won over.

“You guys, go on ahead,” Seijirou said, not taking his eyes off Taro. “I’ll speak with him.”

“Alright,” Yukina shrugged, disinterested in the drama as she headed toward the school gates.

“Hmm,” Emi followed, her face a mask of indifference.

“See ya later, Seiji,” Suzune said, letting go of his hand with a final, supportive squeeze before following her friends.

Rei lingered for a second as she pointed two fingers at her own eyes and then jabbed them toward Taro, a silent warning that she was watching his every move, before she led Erina away.

Shou, Renji, and Sakai filed past last, and as they passed Taro, each of them gave him a firm, respectful pat on the shoulder.

In their eyes, having the guts to stand in front of Seijirou and demand his time—knowing full well the power he wielded—was a feat worthy of respect.

Finally, they were alone in the morning air.

“So, what do you want?” Seijirou asked, his tone shifting to something more business-like.

Taro didn’t hesitate.

He snapped his body forward, his spine straight, bowing in a perfect, desperate 90-degree angle that showed the crown of his head.

“Please!” Taro shouted, his voice echoing against the school walls. “I need your help!”

Seijirou raised an eyebrow, the slight movement of his brow conveying a mixture of genuine intrigue and cold indifference. “My help? What for? You’ve spent the better part of the year avoiding me or glaring at my back, Tadano. Why come to me now?”

Taro took a deep breath, his lungs feeling tight as he tried to stabilize his racing heart.

He knew this was his one and only shot, that’s why, he must get his help!

“Okay, I know you may not believe me,” he began, his voice shaking but gaining strength with every word. “But I swear on whatever credibility I have in your mind, even if it’s just a tiny bit, that what I will say is the truth, and nothing but the truth.”

Seijirou’s gaze sharpened, his arms crossing over his chest. “Just tell me. I don’t have time for a preamble.”

Taro stared directly into Seijirou’s eyes, refusing to look away for the first time in his life as he once again took one more deep breath, with the air cold in his throat. “I… I saw this guy. In the city, near the shopping district. He… he has this mask. A plain, black facemask. But the moment he puts it on, it erases…. erases his presence entirely.”

He paused, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird as he searched Seijirou’s face for any sign of ridicule, a sneer, or even a hint of confusion.

There was none.

Seijirou’s expression remained an impenetrable mask. He wasn’t laughing, nor was he angry, he was simply listening, his eyes cold and analytical.

The lack of immediate mockery gave Taro the courage to continue as he let out a sigh of relief and pressed on, the words tumbling out in a rush. “No matter what he does—stealing from shops, harassing women in broad daylight, even stripping them right there on the sidewalk—he can do it, and no one notices him! People walk right past him like he’s a ghost. I saw it happen, Kageyama. I hit him with a rock, and he ran, but he disappeared into the alleys before I could grab him. I want your help to catch him before he can ruin many other people’s lives!”

Silence followed.

The morning air felt suddenly heavy with every few seconds that passed, making this single moment stretched into what felt like an eternity.

Taro watched Seijirou, and as the silence dragged on, his shoulders began to slump and he couldn’t help but smiled wryly, a bitter, self-deprecating twist of his lips.

As he had expected, the story sounded like the deluded ramblings of a shut-in.

If he himself didn’t have a System humming in his mind, and if he hadn’t seen the visceral, disgusting reality of that girl’s cry when the “veil” lifted, he wouldn’t have believed those words either.

He would have called himself a lunatic.

He stood up straight, the weight of the rejection already settling in his chest as he prepared to apologize for wasting the Seijirou’s time. “I-I’m so—”

“Alright,” Seijirou interrupted, his voice cutting through Taro’s apology with the finality of a gavel as he gave a sharp, decisive nod. “Come to the Student Council room during lunch. We’ll continue this discussion then.”

With that, Seijirou turned on his heel.

He didn’t wait for a thank you or a reaction; he simply walked away toward the main school building with his hands in his pockets, leaving Taro standing alone on the road.

Taro blinked, his jaw hanging open slightly as he watched Seijirou’s retreating back.

He hadn’t been mocked.

He hadn’t been punched.

He had been… accepted.

That terrifying Kageyama Seijirou had actually listened to him, and more importantly, he had believed.

At this moment, Taro felt a surge of something he hadn’t felt in a long time: a genuine spark of hope that didn’t come from a stat reward.