Little Tyrant Doesn't Want To Meet A Bad End

CHAPTER: I

"Her name is Alicia. She'll be your little sister from now on, Roel."

In a lavishly decorated room stood a handsome yet frail-looking middle-aged man. He held onto the hand of a silver-haired girl as he introduced her to a well dressed, black-haired boy standing before him.

The middle-aged man was known as Carter Ascart, a Marquess of Saint Mesit Theocracy. He served as the Cheif Magician of the Holy Paladin order and the head of the Ascart House. He was also the father of Roel Ascart, the stunned 9-year-old boy standing before him at this very instant.

Roel Ascart was the sole son of the Ascart noble family. He had dignified facial features and a head of slightly long black hair. Standing at just 1.5 meters tall, he was considered to be on the shorter end, especially among this country's nobles. His lean Physique also revealed his lack of physical training. However, the noble education he had undergone from a young age gave him a composed and quiet disposition, giving most people a fairly good first impression of him.

This, however, was nothing but an empty facade. In truth, Roel was an infamous little tyrant. Young as he was, he had a long list of misdeeds to his name. Even the servants of the Marquess' house would pale whenever his name was uttered. And it was a little tyrant who was currently staring at the little girl who was soon going to become his stepsister. The golden eyes he inherited from his mother had narrowed tightly, and his complexion looked awful. His body was as stiff as the sculpture standing tall above the water fountain in his family's garden.

"Roel, what are you doing? You're scaring her!"

Noticing Alicia cowering behind with a frightened expression under pressure from Roel's gaze, the middle-aged man howled at this troublemaker of a son of his.

Your looks are your only redeeming feature, and even they're ruined when you act like such an arrogant little villain! Do you have to behave in such a manner? I know Alicia is beautiful, but you're the son of a Marquess. Where in the Lord's name have your manners, your etiquette teacher taught you gone to?

Carter Ascart was clearly embarrassed by his son's behaviour. He raised his hand with the intent to give his son a whopping, but barely after he raised his hand, the image of his deceased wife flashed across his mind. After a short moment of hesitation, he eventually put down his hand with a deep sigh.

"Cough Cough. Alicia, it would appear that your brother Roel is exhausted. I shouldn't have put him through so much magic training earlier."

As Marquess Carter put down his pride to help clear up the situation for his darned son, he discreetly gestured the maids by the side. The sharp-witted maids immediately stepped forth and brought Roel back to his room to rest.

It was then that Roel finally heard the strained voice of a little girl behind him.

"I-I'm all right. It's nor fathers fault..."

Roel Ascart really doubted his life at the moment. It was because he had transmigrated to do this world. Or, to be more exact, he had just remembered the memories of his previous life.

Roel, a heterosexual male, had been a 20-year-old university student from the earth. He was born to an average family, and he didn't have any extraordinary experiences in romance either. To summarize, he was an ordinary person. If you want had to point out something different about him, it would be that he was particularly a NEET. He likes to spend his time reading novels and playing otaku-esque games.

Cough cough, can you get it. This perfectly ordinary person was unfortunate enough to have gotten into a traffic accident. Before he knew it, he was already a member of the transmigrators' army from the earth.

He found himself transmigrating into a place known as Saint message, one of the three great powers, becoming a sole son of the long-standing noble lineage of the Ascart House. He had become the successor to a Marquess' house, a real blue blood.

Had he not known anything at all, Roel would have been delighted to be born in an aristocratic, land-owned family in his second life. He would have been able to do whatever he wanted to. But that was if he really knew nothing at all.

" The Xykelite House....exists."

"Sorofya...is really a real person here too!"

"Lucas Ackermann - if this man really exists as well..."

Bam!

A heavy book fell to the ground, bringing the final death knell in Roel's heart.

"I exist as well......Hahaha.....It's over. My life is over!"

The black-haired boy inside the study room grabbed his head in disbelief as his blood pressure skyrocketed through the roof. He felt lightheaded as if there was a blood clot in his head.

"Just what kind of hellish abyss did I land myself into?"

After comparing the information in his memories to the records of this world, Roel was certain that he entered the world of a gal game he had played in his previous life...... And to make things worse, he was actually the villain here!

The name of the game was Eyes of the Chronicler, end it was a rather typical gal game of epic proportions, with a gigantic and well-detailed world and a grandiose storyline. It also boasted many romantic interests that one could aim for. The illustrations were also lovely. If one really had to point out a problem with the game... It was just not popular. One could cite many reasons for its lack of popularity, but Roel felt that it could all be summarized into two points. First, it was rated as PG. Second, its blood often preceded in a sketchy manner.

The game's mechanics were extremely bizarre, proceeding in units of 'years'. It would still have been fine if that was all, but the storyline kept jumping all around the place too. Wars literally broke out at the click of a button, and crucial characters could actually die in the midst of these words, including the female capture targets!

Roel's evaluation of this game was that it was outlandishly eccentric. It was as if the scriptwriter was really just a historical chronicler with minimal information. The player was given just the broad strokes of events, and they were left to fill in all the missing blanks.

The only reason why Roel was able to bring himself to continue playing this game was that he had an attachment to this incredibly handsome villain that shared his name, making it easier for him to immerse himself into the world. Not to mention the female characters were absolutely gorgeous!!!. It was for this reason that he recognized the little girl the moment he saw her earlier.

Alicia Ascart.

The Silverash Child, the legendary silver bloodline's possessor, the Silver Moon of the Saint Mesit Theocracy. Her beauty was often compared to both the untouchable crystal ice that formed at the highest peaks of the harshest mountains once a century, as well as the searing blade of the legendary sword of the night kingdom Pandor. Her body had perfect harmony features as if the hands of God put it together. Her valiant crimson eyes would not have been out of place of the faces of the heroes of the grand epics. She was cold and lofty on the outside, but her heart is tender and fragile.

Of course, that was all in the future when she finally matured to become the game's female capture target. As for now... She was just a little seven-year-old brat.

Roel, who was her nine-year-old older brother, found himself in a very tempting position.

As the sages are often said, age is not a problem. A two-year gap didn't pose a problem to Roel at all. If he hadn't known better, he would have rushed straight to the side of the angel who had yet unfurl her wings and struck up a friendly relationship with her right away.

Unfortunately, he knew better, and that was why he was afraid. He wasn't rendered speechless earlier on just because he had remembered the memories of his previous life; rather, it was out of freight. 10 years later, his father's fragile little girl was protecting earlier; Alicia Ascart would kill her stepbrother Roel Ascart.

In cold blood, without a hint of mercy.