NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain

Artis waded through the thick cobwebs, batting them away as they clung annoyingly to his hair and clothes.

'I could just grab a divine sword or some heavenly weapon and strut around like a badass.'

He thought with a sigh.

'but then I'd just be a walking deadweight. Without a proper cultivation base, all that power means jack.'

It was true. All the flashy gear wouldn't mean squat if he didn't have the cultivation to back it up. Right now, he needed something that would actually make him powerful, not just look the part.

After fighting through what felt like a haunted house's worth of cobwebs, he finally reached the stack. Each scripture looked the same—dusty, dull, and maddeningly identical.

'Dammit, this is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack made of scrolls.'

He scratched his head, already feeling the headache coming on.

"Have you found something you like?"

Jin's voice echoed from the doorway, clearly enjoying Artis's predicament. He threw a look back, giving Jin a helpless shrug.

"I think I'll be grabbing something from these scriptures. Might need a minute, though."

"Alright, make it count! Once-in-a-lifetime chance here."

Jin grinned, throwing a cautionary glance around the room.

"Just make sure you actually understand the language—it's ancient. Odds are you won't get even half of it. And remember, only one item, got it? These guards here, well…let's just say they're real trigger-happy with those swords if you try for more."

"Yeah, yeah, got it—one item, no double-dipping."

He gave Jin a casual wave, who nodded, clearly convinced Artis wasn't about to try his luck, and strolled back out.

'Huh. Not half-bad, actually. Not quite the pain in the ass the novel made him out to be. Maybe he does give a damn about Artis... or just has a soft spot for doling out cryptic advice in creepy basements.'

Artis snickered to himself. The Jin from the novel was all arrogance, no charm—but now? He seemed like that guy who'd steal your last bite of food and then insist he did it for your own good.

Given the novel's from the hero's point of view, all we ever see of villains is their scheming, their petty nonsense, or their villainous monologues. Their normal lives? Total black hole. No one gets to see if these "evil masterminds" also have off-days where they eat bad soup or lose at board games.

Who wants to watch a villain laugh, genuinely smile, or—heaven forbid—act like a normal human being? No one, really.

'Guess that's part of the thrill here. Never know what these so-called villains are doing with their downtime. And that just makes things…fascinating.'

With a sly grin, Artis took a deep breath, plopped down on the dusty floor, and picked up the first scripture on top of the stack. He opened it gingerly, mindful of the ancient, brittle pages that looked ready to crumble at the slightest touch.

"Sword of…uh…wait, what the hell does that letter even mean?"

He squinted, tilting the page, trying to decipher the ornate script.

"Ah! Sword of Thunder and Lightning! Damn, now *that* sounds spicy. Let's see what this bad boy can actually do…"

He started skimming through the text, not even realizing he was breezing through ancient gibberish like it was his mother tongue.

Not just any language, but the ancient version of some dead language that even the best scholars needed magnifying glasses and prayer circles to make sense of.

That was probably why all these priceless scriptures were just piled up here collecting cobwebs—nobody could read the damn things.

Ten minutes in, he reached the end of the first scroll and felt…absolutely nothing.

"What the hell? I got *nothing* out of that! What is 'When steel shatters, look up, for the sky will be your sword and armor'? Who wrote this crap, some drunk philosopher?"

Still, weirdly enough, he could recall every single verse like it had been burned into his brain.

Shrugging it off, he tossed the scroll aside and dove back into the pile, hoping the next one would actually make some sense—or better yet, give him the kind of power-up that would make those smug elders eat their words.

After skimming through hundreds of dusty scrolls and nearly coughing up a lung from all the cobwebs, Artis finally stumbled upon a pink scripture.

He picked it up, blew off a thick layer of grime, and the dust parted to reveal glistening golden letters and intricate lines adorning the cover like some forbidden treasure.

'This is it.'

He cracked open the scroll, and lo and behold, there it was—a classic depiction of a man and a woman locked in the throes of passion, drawn in the ancient style. The artistry was subtle, refined, but unmistakably explicit.

'Oh, yeah. Finally, daddy's coming, ladies.'

A wicked grin spread across his face, and then he couldn't hold back. He chuckled, cackled, and erupted into a full-blown, unhinged laugh that echoed through the ancient room.

Then—clang, clang!—a metallic sound clanged from outside, followed by an irritated shout.

"Keep it down, fool!"

"Oh! My bad! Just, uh, got a little excited."

Artis called out, trying to stifle his laughter. He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, rolled up the scroll, and waltzed out of the treasure room with all the swagger of a man who'd just hit the jackpot.

As tempting as the gleaming artifacts and relics were, Artis kept his gaze straight, resisting the urge to ogle anything that looked remotely shiny. He knew the lore—the chapter practically spelled it out.

Wandering eyes in this room could end with wandering hands, and in a place like this, that usually meant a one-way ticket to reincarnation.

"Aren't you gonna check me or something?"

He quipped, stopping in front of a guard dressed head-to-toe in a black outfit so basic it looked like something you'd see on the clearance rack. This wasn't armor; this was the guy you don't mess with because he doesn't need armor.

In every game ever, there's a rule: if someone's coming at you naked with just a stick, do yourself a favor and run. That same logic applied here—especially since this guy didn't even flinch.

'Good thing I don't have any cultivation base.'

Artis thought, sweat beading on his brow.

'Otherwise, I'd probably be getting a full-on energy blast death glare right now.'

"No need," the guard intoned, eyes unblinking. "You only took one item."

"Oh? A-alright then. Bye."

Artis gave an awkward wave, like a kid caught sneaking an extra cookie, and then bolted for the stairs.

When he emerged onto the upper floor, the sky was already veiled in darkness. He stopped, blinking at the sudden nightfall.

"Holy hell, how long was I in there?!"

Artis rubbed his eyes, adjusting to the darkened hall as he realized the palace was eerily empty except for a few guards here and there.

"More than a dozen hours, brother-in-law."

The voice made him jump, and he spun around to see Chen strutting toward him, looking half-amused, half-exasperated.

"Brother-in-law!" Artis groaned. "You still here?"

"Well, duh," Chen rolled his eyes, strolling up to him. "How could I leave you stranded here like an idiot? Now, what'd you swipe from the treasure trove, huh?" He jabbed Artis lightly in the stomach, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"Alright, alright, I'll spill," Artis smirked, rubbing his ribs, "but not on an empty stomach! Tavern first—I'm starving. Plus, I could go for a drink that doesn't taste like ancient dust."

Chen raised an eyebrow.

"We've got food at home, you know. Who needs the tavern?"

Chen asked in protest, but Artis was already grinning like a fox that had just raided the henhouse.

"Oh? What's this, Great Chen?" Artis said, barely suppressing his laughter. "Don't tell me the mighty Chen's afraid of his wife! C'mon, is she threatening you with the couch, or… does she actually whoop your ass? Heh heh heh."

Chen's face flushed red so fast he looked like a cherry about to pop. In this world, what husband wanted to be seen as whipped by his wife?

Not a single one. And especially not Chen, who'd rather chew glass than lose face in front of his brother-in-law—especially since this loudmouth was sure to spill it all to Jin. He could already picture the young master laughing himself silly.

"Hmph! Like I'd be afraid of a woman like Nadia," he scoffed, puffing out his chest.

'Let her get mad. What's she gonna do, cheat on me? Ha! Not in this lifetime.'

Chen flashed a forced, smug grin, but Artis could see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, and he knew he'd hit a nerve. Smiling to himself, Artis let out a satisfied chuckle. Another victory secured.

'I'll have your wife come to my room today, dear brother-in-law. I'll make sure to use her. He he he.'

"Fine. Lets get to the tavern and enjoy ourselves. Who cares about that stupid bitch anyway? What's she gonna do? Come on, brother-in-law. Lets go."