Leave the Villainous Second Male Lead Alone (Completed)

But now, after being bathed and dressed by the maids, Callisto looked even more stunning. I hadn’t thought it possible for him to become more adorable, yet here he was, outshining even my expectations.

‘A beautiful lead is a beautiful lead, I guess. How can a child be this breathtaking?’

His round eyes sparkled with a deep golden hue, framed by long, fluttering lashes that resembled butterfly wings. His jet-black hair fell gracefully across his forehead, contrasting with his porcelain-like skin. His rosy cheeks resembled ripe apples, almost begging to be pinched.

‘H… why did you turn this child into Snow White?’

If Snow White had ever been portrayed as a child, she’d have looked exactly like this.

I was so captivated by his cherubic face that I momentarily forgot the original story.

But then, I felt a sharp, piercing gaze.

Startled, I looked up to find Callisto staring directly at me.

The innocent, angelic smile he’d shown to the Count and Elsie was gone. Instead, his golden eyes glinted coldly, as though sizing me up. For a seven-year-old—or a child who barely looked five—his gaze was unnervingly intense.

I froze, my fork slipping from my fingers with a clatter.

“Etienne? Is something wrong?” the Count asked, startled by the noise.

I said nothing, my eyes fixed on Callisto.

When the boy turned back to the Count, he looked like a perfect little angel again.

But I knew better now.

Callisto hated me. Not just disliked me—he loathed me.

‘But why? Why does he hate me already?’

We’d just met today. He couldn’t possibly know about the original story’s future events. There was no reason for him to despise me so deeply.

‘Unless… he does know.’

A chilling thought crept into my mind, sending a shiver down my spine.

Even from the first day, I noticed that Callisto only showed his sharp side to me.

Thanks to H’s dedication to key tropes, even as a child, Callisto already exhibited the makings of a perfect protagonist for a dark, angst-ridden story. The way he glared at me screamed “obsessive male lead.” Of course, he wasn’t glaring at me because he was obsessed with me—it was far from that.

Meanwhile, he played the part of a charming fox with the Count and Elsie, his true nature completely hidden. No one could have guessed that this seemingly sweet child was a budding obsessive maniac with a broken personality.

“But why does he hate me so much?”

In the original story, Etienne subjected Callisto to relentless torment. He would force him to kneel, beat him, and even drag him by the hair, dunking him into a tub of water as if torturing him. Knowing that future, Callisto’s hatred for me was understandable—if he actually knew about it.

But could he really know the future? If he did, how? Was this another hidden twist H had up her sleeve? Or… was Callisto not just a mere fictional character?

A flood of thoughts swirled in my mind, and Elsie, noticing my grim expression, stifled a laugh.

“I didn’t expect you to take such an interest in Callisto, my lord.”

“Well, that’s only natural…”

I almost blurted out, Because I don’t want to die, but managed to swallow the words. Forcing a shaky smile, I added, “…I’m just happy to finally have a sibling after being alone for so long.”

I had been sticking to this narrative for appearances. Unfortunately, Callisto didn’t seem to believe it.

“Oh my,” Elsie said, her eyes widening with a pitying look. She seemed worried about how I would react once I found out Callisto was my half-brother. Of course, I was more than ready to play the role of a doting older brother. The problem was that Callisto didn’t seem interested in reciprocating.

Thinking about the murderous glint in Callisto’s eyes every time we crossed paths, I could only sigh.

“Well… I’ll just have to keep trying.”

Even if Callisto disliked me, I couldn’t just sit back and wait to die. At the very least, I needed to understand why he felt this way. Resigned, I frowned deeply and set out to find Callisto.

“Where are you, my lifeline?”

After scouring the entire estate, I finally found Callisto hiding in a corner of the kitchen. He was crouched down, covered in soot, looking as scruffy as the day he arrived.

I had no idea why he was in such a state. The defiant glare he shot me from his small frame looked almost comical, as if he believed I was his mortal enemy.

Arms crossed, I looked down at him with a mix of annoyance and confusion.

“What are you doing here? Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?”

“Why are you looking for me? What are you planning to do?”

Callisto’s large eyes glared up at me with suspicion, making his already big eyes seem even bigger. His puffed-up cheeks made him look like an angry dumpling—adorable, but his words were far from endearing.

“What do you think I’m planning to do?” I asked, trying to keep my tone calm despite the tension building inside me.

We locked eyes, a strange standoff between a 28-year-old editor and a seven-year-old boy. It was ridiculous, but neither of us was backing down.

Finally, Callisto broke the silence with a shout.

“You’re going to torment me! Make me kneel, hit me, and torture me in water until you kill me!”

“…What?”

My heart sank. The horrifying scenes of Etienne’s abuse from the original story flashed before my eyes. There was no way Callisto could say such things unless he knew the future.

And if my suspicions were correct, then Callisto did know.

He truly believed I was going to abuse him, and that’s why he was so hostile toward me. Was he, like me, a reincarnator or someone who had returned from the future? But his behavior didn’t match.

“He’s too much like a child to have been reincarnated or returned.”

Even I couldn’t completely hide the occasional mature slip-ups, and the staff often commented on my sudden bursts of maturity. But Callisto behaved and spoke like an ordinary child—aside from his knowledge of the future.

“So… does he have the ability to see the future?”

I considered the possibilities, drawing on my experience with web novel clichés. One plausible explanation was that he might have glimpsed the future through prophetic dreams.

Testing the waters, I said, “Why would I torment you? What do you think we are… rivals?”

We would be rivals in the future, but Callisto simply blinked at me, his face blank.

“What’s a rival?”

“….”