The Transmigrated Villain Claims the Heroines!

If you’re reading this, you’re probably a thief, a curious servant, or me with amnesia...

That was the first line, written in bold across the front page. It was obvious that, whatever Cassian had written in the rest of the book, this was the part he most wanted to emphasize.

I flipped the page.

The next page was far simpler and much more conventional for a book.

No matter who you are, if you’re reading this, then you have the necessary skill to learn what lies within. After all, it isn’t easy to sneak past my estate’s guards and find this book, unless, of course, you’re just me with amnesia.

Well, that was certainly the last thing I expected from someone who would kill anyone for so much as looking at him the wrong way.

Just know that if you learn what is inside, you are welcome among my ranks.

I guessed he was leaning more toward the first few explanations of who found this book than the last one. I couldn’t blame him; the idea of him—or rather, me—randomly getting amnesia sounded far too abrupt and unlikely.

I turned to the next page, and the handwriting changed.

Still Cassian’s. Sharp, angular, but the ink was different. Darker and fresher. As if this part had been added later.

You’re still reading. Good.

Now for the specifics, this book is about swordfighting. So anyone who relies on guns should just sell this for a hefty sum.

My swordstyle isn’t something I was taught. It’s something I built. That’s the first thing to understand: this is my style. It works for me. Whether it works for you depends entirely on whether you can do what I do.

I paused. That was surprisingly honest for a man who’d killed people for less.

The second thing: forget most of what you know about swordfighting.

Traditional styles are built around efficiency. They assume you and your opponent are roughly equal in strength and speed, so the better technique wins. That’s sensible. That’s how most people should fight.

I don’t fight like that.

My stance looks wrong on purpose. It’s angled badly. It leaves openings. A trained swordsman will see those openings immediately, and in the moment they register that confusion, why is he standing like that? I’ve already moved.

But here’s what matters: the confusion only lasts a second. After that, you’re just in a bad stance with a sword. So you’d better be stronger, faster, and more aggressive than the other person.

That’s the entire style.

Close the distance. Ignore the openings you’re giving up. Get inside their reach. And then, because you’re physically better than them, win the ugly brawl that follows.

I turned the page. The diagrams were simple. Two figures. First, the Noctierre stance: open, awkward, almost inviting. Second, the same figure crashing forward, swords locked, bodies pressed together.

Most swordsmen train for clean fights. They practice their footwork, their timing, their ripostes. They’ve never had to win a fight where both people are grabbing, shoving, half-swinging, half-wrestling. They don’t know how to use their weight. They don’t know how to drive forward through a cut. They’ve never had to just overpower someone.

I have.

So that’s the question this book can’t answer for you: are you strong enough to make a bad stance work? Are you fast enough to close distance before they punish your openings? Are you willing to turn a swordfight into a fistfight because you know you’ll win that one?

If yes, keep reading. The techniques are simple. They have to be, you won’t have time for anything complicated once you’re inside.

If no, put the book down. Walk away. This style won’t make you better. It’ll just get you killed.

Below that, a single line in that darker ink, almost as an afterthought:

I built this style because I could afford to fight stupid. Most people can’t. Don’t confuse unorthodox with effective unless you’ve got the body to back it up.

He was surprisingly honest about how his... well, again, how my own technique worked. He didn’t even recommend that anyone use it unless they had the exact same body as him.

That wasn’t a problem for me then.

I’d expected some absurdly refined and perfected sword technique meant to kill anyone in seconds, not a book about fighting dirty and physically crushing opponents before they could even process what was happening.

But that wasn’t the only thing the swordstyle relied on, because a few pages later, it actually offered more practical advice.

But a word of warning: to use this style, you also need to learn conventional styles in case things go wrong. I’d recommend these ones...

"Look at that, even had a backup plan..."