A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

At the moment when both his present and past selves were about to strike Ansel with finger blades and twin daggers, the legendary adventurer, who seemed completely frozen in this time-space, moved his lips under Knell's horrified gaze.

"Boring."

The indifferent voice reached Knell's ears just before his fingers and daggers could pierce Faust's head and heart.

—No, it was even earlier, before he had even spoken!

As Knell realized this, the phantom emerging from him had its hands suddenly twisted into a cloud of blood mist.

Immediately after, his present hands also transformed silently into a red gaseous-solid mix, dissipating into the air.

When the frozen time resumed its flow… nothing had happened.

Except Knell no longer maintained his aggressive stance. He silently leaned back into the sofa, staring intensely into Ansel's eyes.

"You are… the real deal."

In the unsettling silence, the man spoke slowly with a low, hoarse voice.

Knell had reversed his injuries during the frozen time, so after the time stop ended, he appeared unharmed.

But he knew very well that Faust… had shattered his hands in an earlier time, unbeknownst to him.

This was absolutely… without a doubt, the genuine article.

He was the bona fide Faust!

At the moment when Swordfish and Ravenna were momentarily taken aback by these words, Ansel, who hadn't even changed his posture, uttered something that left all three, including Knell, even more bewildered:

"Who do you intend to sell this information to?"

"…"

Knell's fingers trembled slightly, and his gaze, which had been filled with wariness and coldness, gradually shifted to a mix of complexity and concession.

"A truly dangerous man."

The man remarked, pulling out the dagger that had pinned the ring, and reiterated, "You are indeed the real Faust."

"I never claimed to be an impostor."

"Yet many believe otherwise, for numerous reasons."

The dark-gold dagger transformed into a stream of light, branding Knell's palm. He retracted his initially aggressive, icy demeanor, adopting a semblance of warmth, though still far from friendly: "A 'strongman' suddenly emerging and claiming to be Faust during this period inevitably stirs speculation."

"So when you heard the message from your vice president, you saw it as an opportunity."

Ansel said casually, "An opportunity to gauge my depth, an opportunity to make a deal."

"Compared to the trivialities your subordinates peddle… the critical information personally handled by the head of the Executioners is evidently more valuable."

After hearing Ansel's words, Swordfish stared at his boss in astonishment.

Wait, boss, weren't you supposed to help us solve our problems?

How come you also want to make a profit?

Knell responded with a complex tone, "I did indeed see… something of greater value."

He pushed the ring on the table towards Ansel, this time genuinely expressing his willingness to concede.

"But I suppose you won't let me sell it so easily."

"No, you may."

The young Hydral slightly raised his chin, looking down at the other with an air of superiority: "This deal, you can make."

At last, he abandoned his lazy demeanor, crossed his legs, and intertwined his fingers on his knee, resembling an examiner, a ruler.

"But the nature of me, as you describe it, and your trading partner, shall be decided by me."

"…"

Knell fell silent once more.

He rubbed the dagger for a long time, then slowly shook his head.

"Faust," the man said solemnly, "In our line of work, reputation is tied to business, and integrity determines business. I cannot provide false information to my clients because of you."

Ansel did not respond directly to this statement; instead, he introduced a seemingly irrelevant topic.

"Ocarlan."

"…What?"

"Ocarlan Reynard. The fastest rising assassin in the history of the Chronos Guild, advancing from the third-stage Throne to the threshold of the fifth-stage Crown in just about six months."

Seeing the growing turmoil in Knell's eyes, Ansel continued calmly, "Do you know him?"

Knell certainly knew this person. Fifteen years ago, he was already a fifth-stage extraordinary being. Disagreeing with the Chronos Guild's doctrine, he defected and came to the West, founding the Executioners.

Over these fifteen years, numerous formidable members of the Chronos Guild had attempted to assassinate him, all failing without exception.

— A month ago, that self-proclaimed greatest genius in the history of the Chronos Guild, Ocarlan Reynard, who is an idiot, audaciously attempted to assassinate him with fourth-stage strength but inexplicably escaped unscathed.

Knell had taken note of this young man and discovered that his growth trajectory was equally baffling.

About half a year ago, Ocarlan was merely a typical genius; fast in advancement and strong in ability, but still within the normal range.

But after returning from a routine mission in the North, his strength and talent began to surge at a bewildering rate.

In just six months, he had advanced from the late third-stage to the final stage of the fourth-stage.

Why did Faust… suddenly bring up this question?

"Knell, you abandoned the Chronos Guild because you disagreed with their pursuit of killing efficiency, considering their approach of gaining power solely through assassination too narrow. That's why you came to the West and founded the Executioners."

As Faust looked down at Knell, his appearance seemed to gradually transform, shedding a certain perfect facade to reveal his true nature…

—The nature of a devil.

Knell's eyes, reflecting Faust's image, began to tremble.

"You accept commissions, sparing no effort to exchange for all resources, using this more direct and efficient method to enhance your power. Yet, even as you plunge into the abyss, you still find no way to advance further."

The devil's voice echoed in his ears: "This does not mean you are a fallen one devoid of motivation. Your obsession and craving for power and strength remain insatiably intense."

"So, aren't you curious about what granted Ocarlan that talent? And if that mysterious blessing could be bestowed upon you..."

The whispers, as if from the void, struck at Knell's very soul.

"Might you not see an entirely new horizon?"

Knell, who had just been speaking of integrity, staggered to his feet. He stared intently at Ansel, at those eyes... now filled with an inky darkness.

As if he were gazing at a preacher delivering a sermon.

*