Into the Apocalypse: Saving My Favorite Villain-Chapter 99: Between Salvation and Damnation

Cassel — POV

Oh God.

What am I supposed to do?

What am I supposed to do with this girl?

What am I supposed to do with this reckless fool who throws herself into danger as if her life were something expendable—something easily replaced?

What am I supposed to do with these feelings that are killing me from the inside, gnawing at my sanity, corroding my reason, dragging me closer and closer to a place I swore I would never return to?

After what happened—after I saw her blood spill beneath my hands, after I tasted that unmistakable metallic tang flooding my mouth—

I couldn’t face her.

I couldn’t stay by her side.

Because I’m afraid.

Afraid of her.

Afraid of myself.

Afraid that if I look at her for too long, if I feel her warmth, her pulse, her fragile breathing beneath my palm, something inside me will snap again.

Afraid that I’ll lose control once more.

And next time, I might not stop myself in time.

I might truly destroy her.

And I can’t bear that.

I can’t bear her pain—can’t bear her tears, her trembling, her fear.

I can’t bear the idea that I could be the one to cause it.

Even now, the memory clings to me like a curse.

Those emotions.

That darkness.

The way it surged out of nowhere, overwhelming and violent, flooding every corner of my mind. The way my body moved without my consent, my instincts hijacked by something feral and cruel.

How easily I had pinned her down.

How easily I had overpowered her.

How close I came to killing her with these very hands.

I am Cassel Zancroft.

A man who has never flinched.

Not before death.

Not before pain.

Not before the mysterious power that had controlled every movement and every action of mine since childhood.

I had faced monsters, armies, annihilation itself—and yet, when the girl collapsed unconscious in my arms, my heart nearly stopped.

Her body went limp.

Her warmth faded.

For one horrifying moment, I thought she was dead.

And the worst part—

I felt no regret.

Only exhilaration.

A sick, intoxicating thrill coursed through my veins when my teeth sank into her neck.

A twisted sense of relief washed over me when I caged her beneath my body, when she was utterly powerless, unable to resist, unable to escape.

That truth terrified me.

Terrified me to my core.

Those poisonous thoughts toward Rosalia—

They weren’t fleeting.

They weren’t accidental.

They were mine.

"Boss, Rosalia is fine. Don’t worry."

Frederick’s voice pulled me back to reality as he patted my shoulder, his expression cautious, almost uneasy.

I forced myself to take a deep breath, then turned my gaze to the girl lying unconscious in the car seat.

Her face was pale.

Too pale.

Bandages wrapped around her neck, stark white against her skin.

I walked to the car door.

My hand hovered over the handle.

But I didn’t get in.

Instead, after a long, suffocating moment, I slammed the door shut and said coldly, forcing my voice into its familiar, emotionless tone,

"Let’s move. Continue on our route. Carry the unconscious man we rescued to the other car."

My words left no room for argument.

Under everyone’s watchful eyes, I turned away and headed toward another vehicle, taking the seat beside the driver.

The door closed.

The engine roared.

And only then did I realize how tightly my hands were clenched.

"Is the boss okay?"

"He looked terrifying when he lunged at Rosalia. For a moment, I honestly thought he’d turned into a zombie—especially when he bit her neck."

"Don’t remind me. I almost raised my gun and fired out of sheer fear."

"But he seems completely fine now. And did you notice those dark shadows that came out of his body? What were those? Is that a new power of the boss?"

Their whispers drifted toward me, sharp and intrusive, but I no longer had the strength to deal with them.

Nor the desire.

Then Henry’s voice cut through the murmurs like a blade, cold and laced with threat.

"Don’t ask what doesn’t concern you. Don’t think beyond your limits. Move—and carry the man."

Silence fell instantly.

The men obeyed without another word.

...

As the car sped forward, ruined buildings and shattered streets flashing past the window, zombies staggering aimlessly through the wreckage, my thoughts returned to those strange shadows.

In my previous life, I possessed many powers.

Most of them had already returned to me.

Lightning.

Mind control.

Enhanced perception.

But beyond those, I still had two secret trump cards—abilities I had never revealed to anyone.

And yet...

Those shadows shared nothing in common with any of them.

Which meant—

They were something new.

A power born not from my past, but from this life.

Perhaps they were the reason I lost control.

Perhaps they were the source of those violent emotions, those intrusive thoughts that overtook me so completely.

Because no matter how jealous I became, no matter how angry I was, I had never been someone ruled by emotion.

Never.

Especially when it came to Rosalia.

If I were in my right mind, I would never hurt her.

Even if I were furious, even if my rage reached its peak, I would have crushed the skull of the man she was trying to save instead.

That is my nature.

And yet—

I had turned that violence on her.

I need to study those shadows.

Understand them.

Control them.

So that what happened today never happens again.

...

Despite my resolve, my gaze kept drifting toward the car ahead of us.

Has she woken up?

Is she all right?

Is she in pain?

Will she hate me when she remembers?

Will she fear me?

The thought alone made my chest tighten.

I didn’t realize how lost I was in those thoughts until—

"Boss, the car in front has stopped."

"What?"

The word barely left my mouth before I threw open the door.

I moved like lightning.

In the next instant, I was there.

As expected.

The moment I saw Rosalia awake, my heart clenched so hard it felt as if my chest might collapse inward.

But she looked worse than before.

Her breathing was uneven.

Her eyes were wide, unfocused, filled with terror.

She was trembling violently.

What happened?

I didn’t think.

I didn’t hesitate.

I pulled her into my arms.

"Rosalia, breathe... Ros... breathe slowly. I’m here."

Her body was cold.

Too cold.

She struggled to inhale, her fingers clutching desperately at my clothes as if I were the only thing anchoring her to reality.

I supported her trembling form with one arm, gently patting her back with the other, murmuring her name again and again.

Gradually, her breathing steadied.

Her shaking eased.

When she finally looked at me, tears spilling down her cheeks, my heart twisted painfully.

I opened my mouth to speak—

And then—

Smack.

The sound echoed sharply.

She slapped me.

My head barely moved.

I didn’t react.

I didn’t feel anger.

Only guilt.

Only shame.

Then another slap.

And another.

Each one felt deserved.

When Rosalia finally ran out of strength, her hands fell limply against my chest as she leaned into me, sobbing, her cries raw and broken.

She accused me of abandoning her.

Of leaving her alone.

Of disappearing when she woke up in fear and pain.

Only then did I realize the magnitude of my mistake.

Only then did I understand how foolish I had been.

Of course, she would be afraid.

Of course, she would panic.

She woke up injured, vulnerable, haunted by what had happened—and the one person she trusted wasn’t there.

How could I not think of that?

I had been drowning in my own fear, consumed by my own darkness, and I had forgotten hers.

"I’m sorry."

The words came out hoarse.

"Ros, I’m sorry. Forgive me. I won’t leave you again."

"I swear... I won’t ever do it again."

She clung to me tighter, her sobs gradually softening.

Rosalia is my light.

My salvation.

The one sent to me after suffering that spanned two lifetimes.

I won’t be able to leave her.

I won’t be able to stay away from her.

Even if my presence is dangerous.

Even if loving me means walking on the edge of a blade.

I must overcome this.

I must grow stronger.

I must gain control—over myself, over my powers, over everything.

I will make everything perfect for us.

A peaceful life.

A beautiful future.

No matter who stands in our way.

"I, Cassel Zancroft, will be happy with the one I love—in this life, in this world."

"Rosalia, I will never leave you in this life," I murmured, my breath brushing her neck.

She wrapped her arms around my neck in return, pulling herself closer, closer, as if she wanted to disappear into me.

She wasn’t afraid.

She didn’t tremble.

She didn’t pull away.

Even when my lips rested against the curve of her neck.

I truly was a fool.

How could I not see it?

How could I not understand how deep her feelings ran?

She wouldn’t run.

She wouldn’t leave.

She wouldn’t fear me.

She loves me.

She adores me.

My eyes closed slowly.

And I held her.

For a long time.

A very long time.

Until she fell asleep in my arms, her grip loosening slightly—yet her fingers still clutching my collar, as if afraid I might vanish.

Rosalia—

In this life, you can’t escape me.

And I can’t escape you either.