Surviving In This Filthy World As A Novel Villain

Hmph! If her grandfather's spirit was watching, he was probably fuming. He might even break out of his coffin tonight just to give Alex a piece of his mind.

Alex, unbothered, chuckled. "Relax, I'm not dead yet."

Because of their little detour, the sky had already turned dark by the time they arrived at the Hotel.

Inside, Alex wasted no time. He strode over to the hotel's smart screen, tapped a few buttons, and within seconds, a video call connected—directly to that place.

On the screen, Logan sat slumped against the cold stone wall, his hair disheveled, his body smeared with blood.

Beside him, a graceful middle-aged woman trembled, her face pale with terror. Next to her, a young man, barely eighteen or nineteen, shrank back, his soft features twisted with fear.

Thick iron shackles bound all three, clanking with every slight movement.

The dim glow of the cellar lights illuminated the barrels of red wine stacked around them—just as Mr. Waters had described. They were locked in a cellar, but the stench of blood tainted the air, drowning out the scent of aging wine.

Sera froze as the gruesome scene unfolded before her. Her breath caught, her hands flying to her mouth. For several long seconds, she couldn't speak, couldn't think, just stared at the screen in shock.

Then, slowly, she turned to Alex.

He rose from his chair, his expression unreadable, and walked toward her. A slow, deliberate movement. Then, with a casual elegance, he tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. His lips curled into a faint smile.

"As you had wished, my men have treated your uncle's family… quite well," he said smoothly. His voice was gentle, almost soothing, but the weight of his words was suffocating. "Now, they're yours to deal with. Do whatever you want with them."

Sera's heart skipped a beat.

She looked back at the video, Logan and others, their bodies battered, their eyes filled with raw terror. Then at Alex, who smiled as if all of this was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

For the first time, a flicker of fear sparked in her chest—not for Logan's family, but for the man standing in front of her.

Alex turned back to the screen and switched on the audio. "Let's start with a little family reunion, shall we?"

Instantly, desperate voices filled the room.

"Sera! Sera! Please—let me go! I'm your uncle! You wouldn't just stand by and watch me die, would you?" Logan's bloodshot eyes stared at her through the screen, filled with a mixture of pleading and paranoia.

"ahhhh Sera, I beg you! Please, ask Alex to spare us!" Logan's wife wailed. Her once-elegant hair was now a tangled mess, her clothes torn and bloodstained from a whip's merciless lashings. "We'll do anything! We'll serve you like slaves, like slaves—just don't leave us here! This place isn't fit for humans!"

Logan's family trembled, their gazes locked onto the woman they had once humiliated and cast aside without a second thought. Now, she was the only hope they had left.

"Sera, I know I was wrong!" Logan sobbed, his voice raw with desperation. "I—I really messed up. But… but… but I'm still your uncle! Doesn't that count for something? Please—just let me live!"

For the first time, he understood.

The men who had seized him at the airport, the ones who had dragged him into this hellish cellar—they were not ordinary people. They weren't bound by rules, by morals, by anything remotely human. In less than two hours, they had shattered him.

Logan had lived his whole life in comfort, in safety. He had never once felt true fear.

Until now.

Now, he understood what it meant to be powerless. To be at the mercy of those who saw human lives as nothing more than tools, playthings, or disposable nuisances.

And in that moment, the terror in Logan's heart reached its peak. For the first time in his life, he truly knew what it meant to beg for mercy.

….

Upon seeing Sera again, they dropped to the ground, their body trembling, their submission absolute. Humility seeped into their very bones—because only Sera had the power to pull them from this living nightmare.

"Sera, I was wrong! Please, I beg you… just… me… just let me go!"

Logan tried to crawl toward the television screen, his hands clawing at the cold floor. But the chains around his wrists and ankles yanked him back, forcing him into place like a beaten stray.

No matter how much he struggled, he could do nothing but watch—watch and wait for judgment.

Sera, however, felt no sympathy. If anything, a deep, almost serene satisfaction settled over her as she gazed at the pitiful sight before her.

"Heh… You want me to save you?" Her voice was soft, almost amused, yet it carried a weight that crushed the air from Logan's lungs. "Then tell me—did you show mercy to my parents? They never did anything to you, yet you killed them without hesitation."

A suffocating silence followed. Even across the ocean, Logan and others—who had been watching—fell eerily still.

'How did she know?' Logan's pupils shrank, his breath catching in his throat.

'How did Sera find out?' Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Alex standing beside her.

Of course.

Alex. The pieces fell into place instantly. That traitor, must have handed over the evidence to Alex. And if Alex had it, then Sera did too.

His original plan—to deny everything, no matter what—was now worthless. Panic clawed at his chest as his mind scrambled for an escape.

His face twisted in desperation. Tears welled in his eyes, spilling down his weathered cheeks as he tried one last, desperate gamble.

"Sera, listen to me," he pleaded, his voice quivering. "Let me explain! What happened between me and your father—it was just a family dispute! I only acted because I found out they were plotting against me first! I had no choice—I had to stage that car accident to protect myself! Everything I did was for survival!"

It had to be said—seasoned businessmen like Logan were masters at spinning lies with unwavering confidence. Without a second's hesitation, he crafted his story with practiced ease.

And he wasn't done yet. He let his tears flow freely, his voice thick with sorrow, playing the victim with every fiber of his being.

"I was supposed to inherit the Kleinberg family business! Grandpa always intended for me to take over. But your parents—" he let out a choked sob—"they found out and tried to kill me first! What was I supposed to do? Stand by and let them ruin me? I had no choice but to act first—it was self-defense!"

His performance was flawless. His cries, his agony—it all seemed so real.

But Sera? She only laughed. A cold, sharp laugh filled with nothing but disdain.

"You?" she scoffed, her eyes burning with quiet fury. "And what exactly do you think you are?" Her voice dripped with ridicule, each word slicing through his lies like a blade.

"In both ability and character, my father was leagues ahead of you. You think Grandpa ever considered handing the company to you? Don't make me laugh. The will had already been drafted—Grandpa chose my father as his successor. And you… you got wind of it, didn't you?"

Logan froze. Her next words were a dagger to the heart.

"And out of sheer greed, you murdered him."