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polarisbibliotheque · 2 years ago

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Nemesis (Vergil x Reader) - Chapter 1, Prologue

Nemesis

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: The Abyss opening is a rare occurrence. In his youth, Vergil wanted to harness its power, but never thought he would meet his greatest adversary along the way. Years later, the Abyss is once again open and that might call for some rather unlikely alliances.

Age restriction: 18+ - there's a lot of blood, violence, cursing and all those things people want to forbid younger audiences of seeing. Also, cosmic horror is a thing here. Procceed with caution.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Vergil has a LOT of internal turmoil, and both main characters struggle with self-worth, self-hatred, abandonment issues, etc. The reader also gets seriously injured and humiliated in this chapter, so, again, proceed with caution. It gets dark and it might be too much for some people.

Author's notes: And so, it begins! I HOPE I'll be able to update this one weekly, but I don't know if my creativity will be that nice to me xD This is something that has been brewing for a while, based on my initial hatred for Vergil. Expect the slow burn of the century, they'll be hopeless and so friggin' proud in this one :)

Also I'm so proud of this header :')

Chapter 1 - Prologue

The city was swarming with demons.

Vergil had rarely seen anything like it – chaos took over, the streets stained with blood, the sky red with fire. He marched with resolve towards his objective, ignoring the demons terrifying humans.

There was nothing he could do. He wasn’t there to be a savior – only the strong survived and Vergil had no time to spare. He searched for power, and, if he took too long, his opportunity would be lost until another Abyss was open – and that could take years.

Vergil could feel the tingle in his hands, the stench from the demons in the Abyss. The closer he got, the fouler the smell of blood and rotten flesh. He inherited that enhanced sense from his father – and Vergil constantly questioned how Sparda could have lived in Hell for so long with that horrid reek engulfing him. It had to be something he discovered only after locking Hell behind himself.

All of his senses indicated the source of all mayhem was inside the building he had just entered – if it had been a church of sorts, a castle, some headquarters… Vergil wouldn’t know. Everything was destroyed beyond recognition, and he walked upon the rests of what was once inhabited by the humans who used to live in that city.

The Abyss was close. Soon to be near the reach of his fingertips: a source of power not even the most notorious demons had access to. Something ancient, beyond creation itself – source of salvation to some, source of damnation to others.

If Vergil was about to condemn his soul, it didn’t really matter. He had already been damned; since the day he was reborn on that fateful night his home was torn apart.

Another strange smell assaulted his senses, though. Vergil couldn’t quite tell what it was – no demon; that, he was certain. It was a scent of something that certainly did not belong to all that destruction…

And it came from behind a door within his reach – only a few steps away from the entrance of the courtyard: the place where the Abyss had manifested after centuries asleep.

Along with his human heart, came human curiosity. That inherent human feeling, always distracting Vergil from his path and quest for power. That incessant itch in the farthest corner of his soul that couldn’t be ignored – and that made him divert his steps towards that door.

As his hands were about to touch the sturdy wood that resisted the chaos, Vergil’s steps came to a halt when he felt another presence behind him.

“Not a step further, demon.”

And that presence was human.

Slowly turning back, hands already gripping the Yamato and ready for battle, Vergil found a set of eyes filled with fire and resolve. They had something inside them that bothered his spirit, for he did not know logically what it was – his heart, though, seemed to identify something he couldn’t quite put into words.

As you pointed your sword towards him, Vergil furrowed his brows.

“Step aside, human.”

“I will not let the likes of you roam this place.” You tilted your head upwards, revealing in the faint light of that godforsaken place the wounds and bruises that covered your face and neck. Vergil slightly narrowed his eyes; you must have been battling since all of that started. You were probably the last line of resistance of whatever humans lasted in that pitiful city. “Leave before I have to make you leave.”

Vergil’s eyes narrowed even further – not because of analyzing more, but because of your words. How dare someone like you even entertain the possibility of making someone like him leave…?

His hands took their battle stance on the Yamato. You lowered your sword, reading his posture and correcting yours to get ready to fight him.

From all the demons you fought that day, he was the most… Different. They all looked like creatures from the darkest pits of Hell, blood thirsty, power hungry – either ready to kill and fulfill their bloodlust or trying to harness some of the power of the Abyss. But that one in a blue coat who stood before you… He looked human. Painfully human, even. If it wasn’t for the way he carried himself in that battlefield – the way he held his sword, the way his steps seemed so calm among the mayhem, the way his eyes carried only ice and rage – you would’ve deemed him human.

But you didn’t have to be a demon expert to know that blue coated young man was nothing but a demon like all the others you had fought earlier – or, maybe, unlike the others.

Nevertheless, in your experience, once a demon, always a demon.

“I do not have time for this.” Vergil hissed between his teeth, tilting his head upwards in hubris, leaving the Yamato sheathed. He turned his attention back to the wooden door – you were almost as good as dead; it would be extremely unwise to engage in battle with him.

But something Vergil still had to learn about humans was that the heart doesn’t always follow the wisest of decisions – sometimes, it acts by itself; and whether that is a good or a bad thing, it’s debatable upon the situation.

He heard as your steps lunged quickly towards him, giving Vergil only a few seconds to dash from your vicious attack, making you almost hit the door with your great silver sword. He kept looking at you with annoyance – not only because you attacked, but also because that fire in your eyes seemed to glisten even more than before.

“Leave.” You tried one more time – but Vergil was prouder than that.

He wouldn’t let himself be ordered around by a human.

“You chose your fate.” He growled between his teeth, attacking with the still sheathed Yamato.

It wasn’t his intention to kill you – with just a few blows from the sheath, you’d be on the floor, begging for your life or passed out. Vergil wouldn’t kill, but he would teach you a lesson: no human could think they could defeat him. He was much too powerful for such a weak, pitiful creature.

But you parried him – once, twice, three times. Your eyes still carried that fire, burning with rage and that something else. You didn’t fall, so he attacked again. And again. And you kept on resisting, refusing to give in.

You promised no demon would go beyond that point – only over your dead body. And you would keep that promise.

Vergil growled in disbelief, vexed by your resistance. He didn’t have time for this. Why weren’t you falling? Where were you getting your strength from? He was the son of Sparda. A meek, fragile, battle wounded human just like you should have fallen from the first blow of Yamato.

But your movements were as skillful as his. You held your sword with as much grace and strength as Vergil yielded his demonic heritage. With another blow, you parried masterfully in the right timing, both of you stepping back from each other to recover your stances.

You had your head slightly upwards; and you held his gaze. Vergil hardened his jaw, mimicking your demeanor – or was it you who were mimicking his? He couldn’t know; and you couldn’t either. The blood inside yours and his veins burned with the rage to be dealing with someone else as proud – and as arrogant – as the other.

It was the first time for Vergil, such a human thing to feel, but oh… Your eyes were crushing his pride. Your resistance mocked his power. And he couldn’t let that happen.

Charging towards you, Vergil didn’t hold back. You stood your ground, fighting him as best as you could – your body, though, begged for some rest. Even with the pain, you defended and counter-attacked with the might Vergil would expect of someone in a better shape… Of someone as powerful as him.

You, in the other hand, did not expect a demon so versed in martial arts. You thought he was going to use only his strength, like all demons did, but he had skill. As you parried another blow of his – the sheath of the Yamato threatening to break your stance, unbothered by your silver blade – your eyes met his and, there, you saw not only ice, but the sparkle of a fire that could only be human.

His eyes burned with the same fire yours did – the flame that kept telling him you wouldn’t give up: the human stubbornness.

Although you read it as arrogance.

Bothered by your eyes, Vergil pushed you back, with enough strength to make you stumble on your hurt feet and plant one of your hands on the ground so you wouldn’t fall. You let your head low for a while, taking a few deep breaths to control your spinning head. Vergil furrowed his brows as he noticed the smell of blood came from a wound in your flank – making the fact you were there, fighting him, even more absurd.

“Hmpf.” Even with that realization, he couldn’t recognize the strength in you. That would mean a mere human, battered and hurt even, could put up a decent fight with him. That you both were in the same level of power. Vergil would never accept that. “You’re not worthy as my opponent.”

You shot your head upwards, eyes stark in his blue silhouette as that demon turned his back at you in a nonchalant manner, going back to his business. He didn’t even want to kill you. That was mortifying. With those words, sharp as a sword, he cut through your heart and your pride: you weren’t even worthy of dying in a fight.

With the blood boiling in your veins, you used your silver sword to help you up. As he heard your movement, Vergil stopped; turning around slowly only to find you cleaning the blood running down your lips – those eyes setting his soul on fire.

“I am not done yet.” You spat the blood on the ground, almost hitting his boots. Vergil didn’t give you the joy of seeing how much his temper was affected by your attitude – even though his hardened jaw betrayed him. Lifting his head slightly to try to remain above his opponent, Vergil slowly walked towards you; and you mirrored his demeanor, even if you weren’t doing it in a conscious manner. “Demon.”

This time, Vergil didn’t allow you to attack first – he would set the pace of the fight; almost like leading a deathly waltz. You were his partner and you would follow his lead to your demise; as he always did with every opponent.

As soon as his domineering footwork tried to set the pace, yours refused to dance according to his lead. He tried his best to tame you – but that fire kept glistening in your eyes, and your footwork followed your own beat.

You tried to break his and make sure you were the one setting the pace, but that man in a blue coat had too much will to let himself be lead across the battlefield. His steps worked on his own – and he had the audacity to try to dominate you; the same way you were trying to do with him.

Your tiredness and his annoyance, though, made Vergil knock you down again – but still, you got up. And again. And one third time.

As you took your sword from the ground, barely able to stand up and wield the silver weapon with bruised hands, Vergil had a hard time hiding his shock – cloaked by the annoyance under his furrowed brows.

How were you doing that? You had no demonic blood like his to mend your broken body and burn in flames of survival. How could you get up, over and over and over again…?

“C’mon, demon.” You muttered one more time, raising your head as you could.

“Enough.” Vergil growled between his teeth, charging at you with a speed a human would never be able to counter.

You fell once more. With the sword away from your hands, you had to crawl on the floor to try to grab it again, as Vergil finally unsheathed the Yamato and walked towards you as a death omen. The blade glistened in the last cold rays of the day, as you ignored the blood dripping from your mouth and reached out for your silver sword. The demon approached, unrelenting, and if you couldn’t get back to your weapon, those would be your last breaths.

“Y/n! No! NO!”

The voice of a child made you and Vergil freeze where you were – eyes shooting up to the door he almost opened out of sheer human curiosity.

“Stay back!” You immediately screamed, pointing at three children looking at you both in horror. “Lock the door! Take the other children! Get out of here!”

��Y/n, no! We…!”

“GO! GET OUT! I’LL HOLD HIM BACK!” Your eyes were stinging with tears, knowing full well they wouldn’t have a chance against the demons – but you could at least give them a chance to run and save themselves.

Vergil’s fingers froze on the grip of the Yamato, his glaciers’ eyes stuck in that scene. His heart couldn’t let him move, couldn’t let him breathe. As you struggled more and screamed the last words that made the children finally close the doors and run – with a bunch of steps that could only be of a group of at least fifteen children – he watched as your bloodied fingers held the hilt of your sword once more, tears falling from your eyes as you struggled to get up.

You cannot kill your own mother.

Those words echoed through Vergil’s mind as he watched your struggle to protect the ones weaker than you. All that fight, all that will, all that power… It came from that. You weren’t just keeping people safe by forbidding demons to walk towards the Abyss – and forbidding anything to come out of it – you were there to help those kids find a safe path through the city to a safe haven. You came back to that hopeless building because of them.

Eva had died saving Dante from the hell their home became on that fateful day. She plunged in the fire for her child, she did it out of love and protection. Vergil had heard Eva tried to save him as well, throwing herself in the danger to keep him safe – but he couldn’t accept that. He couldn’t live with the knowledge that he had his mother killed, he didn’t want to believe that; and so Vergil decided to remain with the belief that she had abandoned him for Dante, even if his stupid human heart screamed otherwise.

As you tried to get up from the ground once more, Vergil saw his mother – crawling on the floor, blood dripping from her lips, tears staining her face while she muttered his name, doing her best to keep her children safe. He couldn’t kill her; Vergil couldn’t kill you.

He was brought back to reality as the floor rumbled violently. Snapping his head towards the courtyard, Vergil knew quite well what was happening: all the fighting had taken too long.

“We are done.” His words were muttered between his teeth as Vergil used the sheath of the Yamato the keep your hand pressed on the floor.

With a last glare from his silvery eyes, he left in a hurry before you let your head fall between a deep sigh.

The children were gone, they were safe. Your job was done.

There were many circles and places in Hell, accounted for throughout history in all sorts of arcane writings.

There was, however, one place unaccounted for – with little information, whispered around as a legend of a nightmare: the Abyss.

Some believed it was real, some said it was nothing but a tale to scare children at night. Vergil had read enough to believe in its existence – as well as to know it could take centuries for another gate to be opened once more. No one knew when they manifested or where, but one thing was certain: there was power to be harnessed on that place.

The kind of power was another mystery. The Codex Daemonica had no information on it or what kinds of demons it harbored – if it was inhabited by demons at all. Some believed Sparda had locked Mundus in shackles in that deepest part of Hell, while other said it was the home of something… More ancient.

Vergil approached the courtyard with his hand on the hilt of the Yamato, ready to unsheathe it. There was a fissure on the ground, in the middle of the dilapidated stone garden. There was no sound to be heard: no leaves, no wind, no walking. Only silence.

His steps were calm but firm, approaching with care but never leaving their regal pace behind. The closer he got, the warier his heart became. Something wasn’t right – but, at the same time his soul told him to leave, something inside him told him to walk towards the edge and peak inside.

Vergil had already decided he would be the first one to venture in the Abyss in search for power and, upon coming back, telling his findings in his arcane journal. If his father had trapped Mundus inside it, he saw no reason why he, the son of Sparda, wouldn’t be able to enter it and survive. In order to protect himself, to make sure nothing would happen to him again, Vergil needed that power – and he would go to the farthest depths of Hell and back to make sure no one would be able to threaten him anymore.

Stopping at the edge of the Abyss, Vergil looked down, trying to see something – he had already had many experiences with Hell and knew how some places looked like.

But all he found was darkness.

A darkness that came from the deep – that had no end and, still, seemed to go as far as the depths of his own soul. It was an all-consuming darkness, one that would pull Vergil willingly to its clutches – one he couldn’t understand.

He held the hilt of the Yamato with more strength, the sweat almost making it glide down. His heart pounded inside his chest and Vergil could hear the blood flowing through his head. The darkness consumed his eyes, searching for the deepest part of his soul… The part he smothered, hiding even from himself. The part covered in bruises, blood and self-hatred; the part Vergil couldn’t bear to see: his own mirror, naked and vulnerable, staring right back at him.

He had to get out of there.

Vergil’s heart rate increased and he had no air in his lungs. He didn’t want to look; he didn’t want to see. All those things, all those feelings, all those wounds… Himself. He didn’t want to see himself. He had broken all the mirrors, buried all the broken shards left from his heart, asphyxiated the light from his soul… But there, right in the back, covered in darkness, one mirror was left. One fragile heart made of glass. One ray of light cradled by his bony, bruised, pale white hands.

He had to go. He didn’t want to meet Vergil. He couldn’t look him into his eyes. Not those pitiful, helpless, bruised eyes begging for help… Begging for love. He had to go.

“Vergil…? Vergil…!”

Inside the Abyss, a familiar voice echoed, snatching Vergil away from that last mirror alone in the depths of himself. In that deep darkness, his eyes couldn’t see nothing more than the void, but a voice called him down in the depths.

“Are you there Vergil…? My son…!”

It was Eva.

Vergil hadn’t heard the voice of his mother since the day he discovered the extent of his demonic blood. Many times, he heard her voice inside his head – knowing it was all but a memory; the ghost of his mother coming back to try to comfort him in his desolation, at least a little bit.

But that voice in the Abyss… It wasn’t in his head. It wasn’t a memory. It was there… It was in there.

“Can you hear me…? Vergil…? I… I am scared.”

“I am coming to get you, mother.” Vergil’s voice was no higher than a murmur, but it was filled with resolve.

Ready to take another step and finally venture into the Abyss, another earthquake took the city. He lost his footing, tumbling backwards and falling far away from his mother’s voice as the courtyard came down and the Abyss slowly closed.

“Vergil…! Don’t leave me here alone…! Please…! My son…!”

“Mother… No!” Vergil did his best to run towards the very place his heart and soul screamed at him to stay away, ready to plunge into its depths not knowing what would happen next.

As Vergil finally reached the center of the courtyard, his hands and knees found only the stony floor as everything stood silently still.

The Abyss was closed.

Your empty eyes stared at the crumbling pieces of the city as its last pieces came down in destruction.

They promised. They should have waited for you. That was the deal: you went back for the children and your friends would wait for you all to come back – if you weren’t with the children, they should have waited fifteen minutes.

It had been ten minutes. You were on time. You were on time. There was no reason for leaving you behind.

They were the last way out of the city, the very last ride. The last hope of survival.

And they left you there, in the middle of those crumbling flames, filled with blood and death. You had dragged your feet until the meeting point, you wandered around, screaming their names in hopes they were just hiding to keep themselves safe. You searched; you did your best. You did your best.

No one was there. No one appeared. You were left behind. You were alone.

“Oh, child… Hush…” A snake-like voice dragged itself from the shadows, followed by cadenced steps. It was sweet, mesmerizing… Too comforting for all that desolation. “I know, I know… Your heart is broken. You don’t have to cry.”

“I am not crying, demon.” Your voice was hardened like stone, resonating between your teeth. Even if you wanted to cry, your pride wouldn’t let your tears fall for that kind of betrayal. Not for those people. They didn’t deserve your tears.

“Oh, but your heart, I can feel it…” The she-devil approached you, her hands resting seductively on your shoulders. You would have wiped them off, but you didn’t have the will to do so. “It is… Dead. Completely dead inside that little chest of yours. There’s no reason to lie to yourself… They forgot you, child. That is worse than being left behind, isn’t it? Your already hurt heart is in pieces, I can feel it.”

All your life, you learnt demons lied to get what they wanted. They listened closely to the winged words people let out of their mouths without thinking and later used those to their advantage. That demon, though… She wasn’t lying.

Your heart had already been hurt numerous times before, but that… That was the last blow to kill you. If you were left behind, people at least had thought of you – but they didn’t even remember you existed. You were forgotten, that’s how important you were. You meant nothing, you were worth nothing. Left to die because no one remembered you were dying.

Indeed, it was as if your heart had been torn out of your chest… And there was nothing. Not even tears.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. Your chances of survival were close to none. You had been sentenced to death by those who couldn’t remember all they had to do was wait only five more minutes for you to come back.

“I know… There is no reason to fight anymore, no reason to remain in this pain…” That voice was now close to your ears, so sweet, so dangerous. “I can give you rest child…” It whispered in your ears, always so seducing. “Just give me your soul… Your blood. And I can make it all go away.”

“Hmpf.” You opened your eyes again, slowly turning to look into the blood red eyes of the voluptuous demon who stood behind you. Beautiful, but something in it made you wary. “You can have my blood, demon. But only over my dead body.”

“Hmmm. So be it.” The she-devil rolled her eyes, immediately nonchalant with your attitude. “You are as good as dead anyway. I could’ve made it painless, pitiful creature.”

Her words allowed a band of lurking demons nearby to approach and you finally noticed you weren’t being attacked before because she had claimed you as her prey. You were too weak even to fight her alone, but a whole bunch of demons… Your death was certain.

Taking a deep breath, you held your silver sword with pride. If it was for you to die that way, at least you would make it worthy of a hero. You wouldn’t fall easy and you would take as many demons as you could with you.

As he left the city, Vergil felt a commotion. With lost steps, still disoriented by the voice of his mother, he was naturally brought to the place – as if the demon inside himself wanted blood from the fight happening nearby.

He had never had an experience as the one with the Abyss. He was very aware of demons with psychic powers, able to instill confusion and hallucination in their victims… What he experienced with the Abyss was different.

Was his mother trapped in there? All this time, all alone, in the deepest, most dangerous part of Hell? Years and years in suffering, instead of spreading her beautiful wings as the angel she should’ve become upon giving her life to save Dante…?

Furrowing his eyebrows, Vergil let out an audible huff. He didn’t know what was worse: to believe his mother died trying to save him or that she had been trapped for endless years in the suffering and desolation of Hell.

It was definitely easier to believe she forgot him, saved only Dante and died, watching her beloved younger child from Heaven. Feeling anger was easier than mourning. It was easier than guilt.

Being forgotten was easier than being loved to death.

“Oh, child. Give up already!”

“I can keep going… Demon.”

Vergil immediately paid attention to what was happening in the distance – there he found that stupid little headstrong human who delayed him enough so he lost his chance to enter the Abyss to harness its power… And even to save his mother. He narrowed his eyes, ready to burn all his anger in you.

Until you were hit by a demon and fell on the floor, barely able to get up. They were all laughing, humiliating you. They kicked your sword away from your hands, making you crawl towards it, spitting blood, as they screamed and laughed, telling you to give up.

But, as you did with him, something made you get up and keep on fighting.

Vergil watched in awe as you finally pulled yourself again to your feet and looked at your foes, barely able to hold your silver sword.

It was pride.

The demons attacked you once more and, this time, your eyes couldn’t keep open. You put on your last defense, your last stand. You tried, but you were only human. There was nothing left inside of you and you could only do so much – you could keep your pride, but your physical strength had come to an end. You let go of your sword and allowed yourself the be engulfed by darkness.

Vergil’s hand stopped your bloody body from hitting the floor as the other yielded the Yamato.

“What a shameful thing…” He muttered, lifting his head above the eyes of the demons who stared at him. “Resorting to humiliating a half-dead weak human to feel powerful.” With those words, his hand gently left you on the floor, his feet walking in front of you to take a fighting stance. He couldn’t let you die – not like that. You deserved a better death. You deserved to die by his hands in a fair fight, not humiliated like that. “It’s time to teach you what real power looks like.”

The demons were decimated by the blade of the Yamato – in all that fight, Vergil didn’t touch your body a single time, not even accidentally. If those creatures wanted your blood, they would have to go through him, the son of Sparda. Your death was his, you were his nemesis. No one would touch you.

It took a human to kill a monster. Maybe, one day, his death would be yours as well.

A dark, cloaked figure of a tall man walked with resolute steps under the rain, cradling a frail body in his arms, keeping it from the water and wearing the dark veil of the deep night as protection.

Vergil carried you all the way to the next city – avoiding the looks of those concerned with and helping those who were able to flee and seek shelter nearby. He stayed in the shadows, keeping away from the big groups of volunteers who received injured and lost people – providing food, shelter, warmth and care.

You needed that. You were as good as dead in his arms. Vergil could hear as your breath was barely none, as your heart rate fought to keep you alive. Even in the brink of death, it was as if your body struggled for its own survival.

The hospital wasn’t big, although it was one of the biggest buildings in town. Seeming like an old mansion turned into a public building, Vergil crossed the entrance garden with his strong steps, not hearing much nearby. Most of the staff was probably working on receiving the refugees from your derelict city.

Going up the very few stone steps, he stopped by the door, finally protected from the rain. It was a great wooden door, heavy, adorned with iron, with a single candle keeping some kind of warmth and light in the darkness of that desolate night.

Vergil left you on the floor, ringing the bell on the wall. A woman peeked through the window, immediately initiating a fuss inside – it wouldn’t take long for them to pick you up and start your treatment.

His job was done. You would be alright.

As he was about to leave, Vergil noticed how your lips were already painted with a tinge of purple, your skin too cold for your own sake. Taking off his midnight blue scarf, he wrapped it around your body – it should be enough to keep you alive until the hospital staff took you in.

When the door opened, that strange man wasn’t there anymore. Gone like a shadow, the only one left was that poor person – beaten up, bloodied, bruised… Cozily wrapped around a deep blue scarf.

Respect was implied when one had found their greatest enemy.

To be continued...

#devil may cry #dmc #devil may cry fanfiction #dmc fanfic #devil may cry imagine #dmc imagine #vergil sparda #vergil x reader #vergil x you #long fic #dmc vergil x reader #well well here we are #my first attempt at a long fic :3 #these two are the proudest little things I've ever written in my life #I'M LOVING IT #also yes I thought of that dmc3 scene that Vergil goes 'WHY isn't it working?!' when writing his part xD #so much to unpack about these two <3 #hope to see you next week!

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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 1 year ago

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[CN] Victor’s R&S: Between Silence (Eng Translation)

“Every choice he makes inevitably leads to the right path.”

⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a R&S, 无声之间, that is yet to be released on the global server. ⌚

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[Subbed Video: Fully Voiced]

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This R&S accompanies Victor’s S2 CH 41-44 karma.

Victor’s dialogue’s will be in bold and italics, and the others’ dialogues will be only in bold.

【Chapter 1】

The events of the first three chapters took place when Victor was around 22-23 years old. They elaborate on the beginning of Victor and Ronan’s friendship.

A small recap for those unaware: Ronan is one of Victor’s closest friends. He was a young director looking for opportunities to start his career, and young Victor was just building up LFG back then. After proper evaluation, Victor invested in Ronan’s project. Ronan’s project later won several international awards, and with that, the still learning to walk LFG also got its first base for spreading its wings. Ronan later became a world-renowned director (the CANNES winner apparently), LFG became “LFG,” and Victor became “Victor.”

Ronan appeared in Victor’s Taste of Life MQ, Garden Date, and 5th Birthday Story, and was mentioned by Victor in the R&S Finally, We Meet Again. Victor and MC also discuss “Ronan x Victor” friendship in the S2 CH 41-44 call~

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Victor’s gaze was indifferently fixed on the only source of light in the dimly lit study room–– the movie playing on the computer screen. His face was partly illuminated by the flickering light, and he seemed a little lost in thoughts.

A few days ago, when Victor returned from a business trip to a neighboring city, he was stopped by a young man as soon as he stepped out of the taxi. He enthusiastically helped Victor retrieve his luggage from the trunk and immediately began “confronting” him in a familiar manner as if they had already known each other for a long time.

“CEO Victor, your company is not that large. Why do you still use an appointment system? It seems frivolous.”

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Victor bowed slightly and took the suitcase back into his hands, not intending to pay much attention to the stranger’s rudeness. Although it hadn’t yet been three years since LFG was founded, it had already gained a reputation for its sharp and cutting-edge investment strategy. This visitor was not the first young person to show up uninvited.

“Moreover, I couldn’t find any way to book an appointment online. So I had no other option but to wait here patiently. It’s been five days already, but luckily, I finally managed to secure an appointment.”

Victor’s gaze toward him was crystal clear, indicating, “Let’s talk business.” But the young man seemed to be oblivious to the implied meaning.

“Ah… I understand. There must always be sales promoters swarming at your door, and that’s why you guys have this regulation, right?”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

The space between Victor’s eyebrows knitted into a frown,

“Your behavior has served as a good example of the necessity of this regulation.”

Seeing that Victor was about to leave, the young man blocked his path with a grin on his face,

“Sorry about that. I tend to think in a scattered manner. Please don’t take offense, CEO Victor.”

Following this, he extended his hand toward Victor,

“Let me formally introduce myself. My name is Ronan, and I’m a film director. I have a feature-length movie script that I’ve been polishing for a long time, and I hope that LFG can invest in producing the film.”

Victor didn’t lift his gaze and simply dropped one word in a concise manner,

“Reason.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Although I don’t understand business, LFG is different from other companies. They have already shown their ambition to venture into other industries even in their early stages, which aligns with my aspirations.”

Victor detected a hint of arrogance in Ronan’s words that seemed to come from nowhere, and his brows furrowed slightly,

“What I’m asking is, why should LFG invest?”

Seeing the youth frozen in place, Victor walked around him and continued on toward the company. However, he had only taken a few steps when he suddenly heard a voice calling out to him from behind, “Wait a minute!” The young man ran up to him again, rummaged through his belongings, and finally handed a hard disk to Victor,

“My answer is in there.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

The hard disk contained nearly 20 short film works that Ronan had shot previously as practice pieces.

As the end credits of the last short film were displayed on the screen, a flicker of keen interest emerged on Victor’s previously impassive face. The short films, though, had some roughness and immaturity, but they couldn’t overshadow the unique talent of the creator. He got up and walked to the window, pulling open the heavy curtains. The gentle morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains and poured into the study. It turned out that without even realizing it, he had actually stayed up all night watching those clips.

Victor took out his phone and dialed a number,

“Prepare a report on the development of the film industry in the past five years.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

In the afternoon of that day, an investment decision meeting was held in the conference room of LFG.

“Although there haven’t been any mistakes in CEO Victor’s decisions so far, the profits of the high-speed railway industry have only just begun to show. Given LFG’s current circumstances, it won’t be appropriate to hastily jump into a new industry.”

“A film production cycle is time-consuming, and even aside from the question of whether or not the investment will be profitable, it will take a long time for the money to flow back in. With LFG’s current financial situation, we likely won’t be able to afford this gamble.”

“While the policies may have become more favorable recently, it would still be unwise to stake our all in the investment of a single movie.”

….

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

This investment decision was seeing the most unified opposition since LFG was founded. However, everything that was happening now was well within Victor’s expectations. After listening to all the opposing views, he responded to everyone’s concerns with perfect composure.

“Currently, there is indeed not sufficient data to support this investment decision. The sole convincing factor is that every investment decision made by LFG in the past has yielded good returns. And I believe that this time will be no exception, although the process may be relatively long.”

“Aside from the budget sheet displayed on the big screen, I’ve already asked Goldman to send the script of this project and the director’s past works to everyone’s email. Perhaps the works will be more persuasive than my empty talk.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Rather than whether or not this movie will bring financial gains to LFG, I’d rather see LFG seize the right opportunity to set foot in the film industry. The film industry will soon enter a period of rapid development, and by grasping the current opportunity, LFG can establish a mutually beneficial relationship with the entire industry.”

Victor’s tone was unhurried and measured. But as it fell into the ears of the investors, it was akin to an indisputable judgment.

A few days later, the investment resolution for Ronan’s film project was approved by LFG.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 2】

Ronan’s first movie stirred a small sensation after its release, and after gaining recognition from many industry veterans, he grew rapidly at a breakneck pace. With the constant flow of inspiration, he created two more films in quick succession, while LFG continued to firmly occupy the top spot as the producer of his films since the beginning. When he was almost wrapping up the shooting for his third film, Victor received multiple invitations from Ronan to visit the set under the guise of “guiding the work.”

A faint sense of misgiving arose in Victor’s heart. Although Ronan had an unconventional personal style, as a director, he had always maintained enough professionalism and aesthetic sense and would not be swayed by the opinions of the investors. At that time, he happened to be on a business trip near the filming location and drove to the set on the outskirts of the city.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

However, he wasn’t expecting to be greeted with the sight of Ronan exploding on the props team as soon as he stepped onto the set.

“The precondition of all you guys’ work here is to respect the film! Respect the audience! Your small mistake has directly caused five scenes to be re-shot, not to mention going over budget. Now the entire crew is spending extra time and effort to mend your error!”

Signs of anger loomed on Ronan’s face as if he was trying his best to restrain himself from smashing the script in his hand onto the other person’s head.

The Ronan in front of him was a far cry from the unconventional and unruly image he had in his memory, causing Victor to inevitably be a little flabbergasted. He stood there waiting on the side for quite a while until Ronan came rushing over.

“Ahh... sorry for making you wait! Would you like to have something to drink?”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Water.”

Ronan wiped off his sweat and took Victor to the RV, where the director’s crew took a break. However, upon opening the freezer cabinet, nothing else was inside except cans of beer packed to the brim.

“Will this do?”

“...I drove here.”

As if oblivious to Victor’s speechless expression, Ronan put the beer back into the freezer and sat down opposite him in a carefree manner, gesturing animatedly with his hands.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“I had originally calculated the exact time and wanted you to witness the grand finale. But you also saw the situation just now. Things don’t always go according to the plans.”

“How do you plan to handle this situation?”

“We have no choice but to reshoot. But don’t worry, I’ll ensure we do it in the most cost-effective method possible. Rest assured, it won’t go over budget.”

Ronan shrugged his shoulders in feigned nonchalance, but Victor’s keen perception picked up on the subtle traces of putting on an act in his tone.

“If the method you’re talking about is to film it all in one take using a long shot, then I suggest you ask for a budget increase from me.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Hearing Victor’s words, Ronan was a bit taken aback and stared with widened eyes,

“Have you been taking film courses? How do you even know about cost-effective filming methods?”

“How much budget do you need for the reshoot?”

Seeing Victor’s serious expression, Ronan cupped his fist in the other hand, an expression of gratitude written across his whole face,

“About 3 million yuan. Thank you so much in advance, CEO Victor. You are the godparent of this film! I’ll definitely put your name at the top of the director’s acknowledgments!”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Victor remained stone-faced in the face of his teasing:

“No need. You may have misunderstood. For me, achieving the expected goal takes precedence over everything. Economizing the cost is only a small number, but compromising the quality of the film would affect the expected return on investment.”

Probably aiming to appease Victor’s concerns, Ronan gave him his sincere assurance,

“Don‘t worry. I won’t be careless with any of the shots.”

Not receiving a response from Victor, he took a brief pause and jokingly said,

“Hehe, do I need to win a major international award for you to have faith in me?”

Victor didn’t continue that conversation and left with the parting remark, “Make sure to not just talk the talk. Let me see your capability with the finished project.” But Ronan knew that Victor had faith in him.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Victor was just about to start the car when he heard a knock on the car’s right window. He turned to the source of the sound and saw Ronan outside the car, panting heavily, holding a bottle of water as if he had just run a great distance to reach him.

“Thanks.”

Victor took the water after opening the window,

“By the way, your acting skills are really poor. It’s best if you just stick to being a director.”

Despite being called out, Ronan remained unperturbed and smiled instead, resting his hand on the window frame,

“I’ve been dedicated to being a director all along. Earlier, when I mentioned winning an award, I was dead serious. So if that day ever comes, how about treating me to a drink at a bar, CEO Victor?”

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 3】

The film that Ronan had placed great expectations upon encountered a strong setback in the local theaters even before receiving the results of its entry into the international film festival. Due to the mismanagement in scheduling by the theaters, the film was forced to release earlier than planned. The marketing and promotion team was caught off guard, having no time to prepare, and many people were unaware that it had already been released. As a result, the film suffered from poor box office performance and received a lackluster public reception, which was not surprising considering the circumstances.

The following day, Victor was reviewing the box office prediction trend chart as he prepared in advance for LFG’s next weekly investment meeting. After the weekend drew its curtain, the film’s already disappointing performance experienced a sudden and drastic decline, reminiscent of a fall from the cliff. It seemed that the film’s box office failure had become inevitable. Recalling Ronan’s spirited demeanor when talking about his aspiration for the film winning awards, Victor decided to go and watch the movie to experience it firsthand.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Due to a scarce number of screenings, Victor could only manage to buy a ticket for a late-night show. By the time he walked out of the theater, it was already dawn, and he found himself to be the sole audience member in the entire screening in the empty cinema hall without the sight of any other viewers. Coincidentally, as Victor entered the elevator, the projectionist in charge of the screening happened to be getting off work and shared the elevator with him.

“Ah, the movie has a high level of artistic quality. It’s the best one he has directed yet. It’s a pity that it’s not commercial enough to make money.”

In response to the projectionist’s remark, Victor nodded politely and replied:

“Mm, it’s indeed remarkable. As for whether it’s a pity or not, each film has its track suitable for only itself.”

With a “ding” sound, the brief conversation came to an end as the elevator doors opened.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Just as he stepped out of the elevator, Victor’s phone in his pocket vibrated. He received an MMS from Ronan, containing a screenshot of an email confirming his film’s selection for the CANNES Film Festival. The message was accompanied by a grinning face emoji.

Just as Victor’s “congratulations” message was successfully sent, Ronan couldn’t contain his excitement and immediately called him,

“Reporters are all waiting in line to interview me. But I wanted to call you first. Isn’t that very thoughtful of me?”

Without waiting for Victor to respond, Ronan carried on excitedly,

“I’m actually booking my plane ticket right now. After the film festival wraps up, it’d be the perfect opportunity to reward myself with a long vacation! I’m planning to visit Île Saint-Honorat near Cannes. Ahh, the sunshine! The beach! The sea! I already can’t wait to melt away in the Mediterranean sea breeze!”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

His irrepressible excitement flowed from the rising inflection of his voice.

“If I remember correctly, that e-mail was just to notify you that you’ve been nominated.”

“Being nominated is the first step to actually winning the award. When I get back, you better be ready to take out for a drink. I’m gonna need at least a whole case of beer.”

Ronan continued in a dissatisfied tone before Victor could respond,

“Come on? You’ve invested millions in me, yet it’s so difficult for you to treat me to a simple drink? Forget it, I’ll just…”

“Sure, we can have a drink. But since I’m the one treating, I’ll choose where we go.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

After hanging up the phone, Victor found several new emails expressing their interest in collaboration in his inbox, all from astute film and TV companies.

“It seems that tomorrow’s investment meeting will go smoothly,”-- Victor thought to himself. Although he didn’t hesitate when making the decision initially, he could not help but feel a sense of joy as the dust settled and everything fell in the right direction in the end.

As these thoughts circled his mind, Victor walked towards the vending machine outside the movie theater. He inserted a few coins, and moments later, a chilled can of beer dropped from the dispensing slot.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 4】

Chapters 4 & 5 of the R&S cover the events between S2 CH 38-39. It begins with the scene after he had replaced the twelve main gods of BS, and the ending scene of the R&S, yes, is the “Stop time for me, Victor” scene of S2 CH 39 after clearing all split routes; the most crucial junction~

—

The waning moon sinks into the dense clouds, and the night sky is bathed in a blurred, pale luminescence.

The comet remains suspended midair, framing the entire Loveland City in a treacherous and enchanting ambiance. The city has lapsed into a state of deathly stillness.

In the depths of the BS Hall, the cascading dark red curtains appear eerie and terrifying under the reflection of the thick, dark night. The central seat in the hall remains unoccupied. Numerous figures stand scattered throughout the hall, engaged in discussions. The sound of conversation fills the air, giving the impression that the main gods seem to be working intensely. Despite so, there’s an underlying current of restlessness and turmoil in the air.

As Victor descends the stairs, his composed footsteps draw the attention of the crowd, causing their gazes to converge on him in unison.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Victor walks towards Poseidon and asks,

“How is the progress?”

“We haven’t been able to reach Helios yet.”

Victor’s gaze sweeps across the faint golden arc of light beneath the hall’s dome. A thin layer of frost seems to settle on his face as he says,

“I hope I don’t have to emphasize once again how tight the time is.”

Poseidon nods and exits the hall. Another tall, short-haired youth swiftly walks up to Victor and says,

“BOSS, multiple calculations have consistently proven that our estimated countdown time is indeed relatively accurate, with an error margin that can be kept within 2 minutes.”

“It’s not enough. It needs to be precise down to the second.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Understood.”

The young man nimbly turns around and returns to the side of the woman wearing glasses. In front of them, a massive depiction of the development history of civilizations on Earth is displayed. Each key milestone of the birth and extinction of civilizations is illuminated, shining brightly. The two people close their eyes, and countless lines weave through the points of light. They interconnect in an orderly and systematic pattern, and gradually, numerical values representing units of time emerge on the line segments.

As the main gods return to their tasks, everything appears to be the same as it was earlier. However, with Victor’s presence, the restlessness that was lingering in the air before has unknowingly melted away, vanishing into thin air.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

The mechanical sound of a violin suddenly resounds, piercingly echoing throughout the hall. Standing by the door is an unexpected guest. Victor looks up and, upon recognizing the visitor’s face, dismisses the twelve main gods, leaving only the two of them in the spacious hall.

“Zero, I believe we’ve made our point very clear already.”

The other party seems oblivious to the implied urgency in the words and remains unperturbed as he says,

“We have observed new omens appearing along the world-lines.”

Victor raises his eyebrows, indicating for him to go on.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“There might be different potential futures for this world. It remains uncertain which path the new future will follow, and perhaps it could be even worse than the current situation.”

Victor’s eyes are filled with indifference as he responds,

“Time is precious. You can just state your purpose in coming directly.”

Zero pauses and looks straight into Victor’s eyes, speaking slowly,

“The SpaceTime Bureau welcomes powers formidable enough to confront and observe the unknown. Therefore, my invitation to you still stands. You and I both know that venturing into the unknown is not the optimal option.”

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Whether an option is the best has never been the basis for my decision-making. For me, the one and only valid prerequisite is whether or not I desire to make that choice.”

Victor speaks in an indifferent tone, yet every word carries the confidence of having victory within his grasp,

“And once I make a choice, I will ensure it becomes the most correct one.”

Zero chooses not to persuade any further, and as he departs, the gates of BS close behind him. Even though Victor has never had any regrets about his decisions, he cannot, however, escape the realization that even the right choice sometimes comes with an unbearable price. For instance, there is one such image that remains etched into his memory and which he still refuses to recall to this very day––

The utility room of the cruise ship. The bewilderment and perplexity in her gaze as she looked at him.

[Tidbits]: Reference to [S2 CH 31]

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Even if her forgetting him had lasted for only a brief moment, the shock it brought to Victor’s heart might outlast even the longevity of his own life.

The sound of bells chiming outside the building reaches Victor’s ears and brings him back to reality, jolting him out of his tangled thoughts. He walks towards the window and pushes open the heavy panes, allowing the chilly wind to fill his nostrils. Gradually, he regains his composure.

He takes a deep breath and directs his gaze toward the bell tower of the church. The hoarse tolling of the bells startles a flock of crows into sudden flight. They circle above the church for a while, adding another layer of desolation to this already lifeless city. The church spire blends into the profound darkness of the night. The entire city seems to be silently awaiting the arrival of doomsday.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

But in the next second, from a distance, Victor spots a familiar figure breaking through the night, running towards his location vigorously.

The darkness of the night intensifies, and a cluster of blazing flames has already flared into existence in the silent void.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 5】

Victor is not surprised by the scene unfolding before him, and a small smile forms at the corner of his lips.

The church bells continue reverberating, but by the time the sound travels to Victor’s ears, it carries a much brisker tone.

Unbeknownst to him, a gauzy layer of starlight has cascaded upon the church’s stained glass windows at some point. The soft halo of pale light gently dances, casting swirling and elusive shadows that can be seen even with eyes closed.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

The running girl closes the distance more and more, with her long hair casually flowing down in loose waves, drawing a beautiful arc in the air. Despite there still being a considerable distance between them, Victor feels as though he can see the girl’s face clearly. He is certain that her eyes now are sparkling with a resolute glimmer, powerful enough to pierce through the darkness of the night. With this thought, a wave of fervent sensation surges up from deep within his heart.

Suddenly, Victor feels as if he has been blessed.

It’s not about whether every decision he makes ultimately leads to the perfect outcome, but rather the fact that he has always been granted the opportunity to make choices.

It’s as if, at this moment, he can cast aside all social roles and simply be “Victor,” allowing himself to be there for the girl wherever she needed him and creating a space where she could find him at any time.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

The feeling of being needed by her, of being able to help her–– these aspects bring Victor a profound sense of happiness. It seems that this happiness is enough to make the long days ahead, in which he may be forgotten by her, a little less painful to endure.

Victor nods slightly in the direction of the church, solemnly expressing his gratitude for this blessing within his heart.

Victor turns around and ascends the steps, summoning all the main gods to take their positions,

“Suspend all matters at hand.”

A murmuring commotion rises among the main gods, as they are puzzled about why BOSS has chosen to halt their activities during such a crucial moment when the end of the night is just about to descend.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

Before those impatient inquiries can escape their lips, though, Victor’s cold and commanding demeanor instantly silences them.

His gaze sweeps over the crowd, ensuring that every main god is present, before finally settling on the entrance not far away. The main gods, following his line of sight, turn their heads toward the entrance as well.

A few seconds later, the BS door is pushed open with a resounding sound.

The girl appears at the far end of Victor’s unwavering gaze, gasping for breath. He, with a stern and proud expression, leads the main gods toward her until she can see him. It’s only when the girl has a clear view of him does Victor halt his steps.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

As those bright, sparkling eyes gaze at him from afar, and their eyes interlock, Victor’s heart is flooded with a myriad of complex and indescribable emotions. There is a sense of relief that the situation has unfolded according to his expectation, a deep sense of gratitude that she is standing before him at this moment, and a profound pride for her that emanates from the depths of his being… just as these emotions are about to pour out of his heart sincerely, he casts his gaze downward. He leads the main gods to step aside in the shadows, creating the path for the girl to ascend the platform.

As he watches her walk step by step toward the long-unoccupied seat, Victor knows that regardless of what she might ask for, he has already prepared himself to do all that he can and give his everything for her.

—