Road To Revenge: Obtaining a villain system

004. The Offer

Niccolo had finally begun to breathe again.

The night shift, while lonely, had brought him a rhythm— quiet, ordered, and free from judgment. He walked the polished corridors of the Clearwater Galleria with care, treating his duties like sacred rituals. He hadn’t healed from the betrayal, but he was surviving. And for now, that felt like enough.

So when Aria Vale summoned him to her office after only a week on the job, Niccolo assumed it was a review. Maybe she’d noticed his diligence. Maybe she wanted to thank him for taking the job seriously, unlike the security guards before him. He straightened his collar, adjusted his belt, and walked up the stairs with confidence.

The mall was unusually quiet for early evening. It was still open to the public, but the foot traffic had slowed to a trickle. The elevator ride to the executive offices was short but oddly tense. Something gnawed at the edge of his awareness, but he pushed it down.

When he arrived at her office, Aria was already waiting.

She wore a black fitted dress that hugged her curves and shimmered faintly under the office lighting. Her lips were a deep crimson and her heels clicked like the ticking of a clock as she walked toward him.

"Niccolo," she purred. "Come. Sit."

He nodded and took a seat on the leather couch beside her desk. She didn’t go behind her chair as he expected —instead, she sat next to him, unusually close.

"So," he began cautiously, "Is this about the job?"

She smiled— a slow, amused curve of her lips— and reached out, placing her hand on his knee.

He froze. “Mrs. Vale…?”

Her fingers slid up his thigh.

Alarm fired through him. He stood up immediately, heart pounding. “What are you doing?”

Aria remained seated, her expression serene. “Relax,” she said. “You’re a good looking man, Niccolo. I noticed that the moment you walked in. You work hard. You’re quiet. Strong. Just my type.”

He backed away. “You’re married.”

She tilted her head, unconcerned. “That’s not your problem.”

“It is if you expect me to sleep with you in exchange for a job.”

She stood too, slowly, the smile slipping off her face. “So you’re rejecting me?”

“I’m not that kind of man,” he said, backing toward the door. “Keep the job. I’m done.”

But before he could reach the exit, her voice turned sharp. “You think you’re better than me? You think you can walk out like that after I gave you shelter, food, purpose?”

Niccolo didn’t answer. He simply turned and left, his chest tight with fury and disbelief.

The air outside her office felt poisonous. He should’ve known better. Nothing good ever lasted long in his life. First Kimberly, now this. He just wanted to work— just wanted peace.

He was halfway down the stairs when security radios began to buzz.

A voice barked through: “Intruder alert— main level!”

That made no sense. He was the only night guard on duty.

And then he heard the footsteps —heavy, fast, coordinated.

Niccolo spun around just as five men burst into view. They weren’t dressed like officers or mall personnel. These were street thugs. All in black. Armed with steel pipes and baseball bats.

“What the hell—?”

One of them swung. Niccolo ducked on instinct, but the next blow caught his shoulder, sending him tumbling down the stairs. Pain erupted down his back. He barely had time to crawl before two more descended, beating him with no words, no warning.

He screamed. But no one came.

The security cameras— offline.

The alarms— disabled.

The blows were merciless. Steel pipes cracked across his ribs, legs, skull. Blood pooled beneath him. His world narrowed to agony and blurred lights. Through the haze, he heard one of the thugs whisper something.

“He didn’t even touch her. The boss knows. He just couldn’t stand the way she looked at him.”

The truth sank deeper than the injuries.

Aria’s husband had known she was lying.

But instead of confronting his wife, he’d chosen to erase the threat. Niccolo’s face. Niccolo’s body. His existence.

The irony bit deep.

Every time he tried to do the right thing, he was punished.

As they dragged him out of the mall and dumped him in a filthy alleyway, his blood left a crimson trail behind. The world was fading fast— shadows closing in like curtains around a dying stage.

He couldn’t move. Could barely breathe. Ribs cracked. Vision blurred. He was cold. So cold.

This was it.

He was going to die in the dark.

Alone.

No family. No home. No one who cared.

Tears mingled with blood on his cheeks. Not out of fear, but fury. Not because of death— but because he would never get justice. Never get revenge.

His voice croaked, nearly lost to the night.

“If I die tonight… please let me come back. Let me destroy every one of them.”

He felt his heart slow.

One beat.

Two.

Then silence.

But before darkness could fully take him, something shifted.

The air grew impossibly still. Even the rats nearby paused in their scurrying.

Then— a voice.

Low. Smooth. Ancient.

> “Would you like a second chance?”<

Niccolo’s heart stuttered. His eyes fluttered. A whisper of breath left his mouth.

“…What?”

> “I said,” the voice repeated gently, “would you like a second chance? A new life. Strength. And your revenge.”<

Niccolo couldn’t move his head, but something— some part of him beyond the physical— was listening now.

“Yes…” he murmured. “Anything. I’ll do anything.”

> “Good,” the voice said. “That’s the answer I was waiting for.”<

Something touched his chest. Not a hand. Not skin. But power.

Dark, humming, electric. It coursed through his veins like lightning.

> “You’ll wake in pain. But you will live. You’ll get stronger. Faster. Smarter, but in return… you’ll belong to me.”<

“Who are you?” Niccolo whispered.

> “A collector,” the voice said. “Of promises. Call me whatever you wish. Demon. Shadow. Death. But know this: I give only what is earned. And your rage has earned you everything.”<

The voice vanished as suddenly as it came, like smoke curling through a crack in the wall.

Niccolo gasped.

His body arched— air rushing into his lungs. Pain exploded everywhere.

But he was alive.

Bloodied, broken, and shaking— but alive.

He rolled onto his side, spitting blood onto the cold concrete. His ribs still screamed, but he could move. Somehow. Slowly, with groans of agony, he got to his knees.

The alley spun around him. Every movement was fire. But fire was better than nothing.

He crawled to a dumpster and pulled himself up. A cracked mirror hung crooked above it.

He caught a glimpse of himself— and froze.

His eyes were glowing faintly. Just for a second. Then they returned to normal.

But the feeling remained. Something inside him had changed.

He wasn’t the same man who had walked into Aria Vale’s office.

And he never would be again.