The Villainess is my fiance: But she is gentle towards me-Chapter 242 -: Memories.[2]

Time passed. Days became months, and months slowly turned into years.

Inside the tall glass tube, the change continued without stopping.

At first the two small bodies had only touched at the hands. Then their arms joined.

Their legs slowly moved closer and became one. Their shoulders pressed together until the line between them disappeared.

Little by little, their bodies stopped looking like two children.

Bones changed. Muscles twisted and reshaped. Skin fused together like melted wax slowly hardening again.

What was once a brother and a sister slowly became something else.

Something new.

In the end, even they themselves would not have recognized what they had become.

The being inside the tube was neither a boy nor a girl anymore.

It was both.

And yet it was neither.

Even their minds had changed.

At first their thoughts were separate. They could still tell who was speaking. The girl’s fear was different from the boy’s anger.

But as the days passed, even that line slowly faded.

Their memories mixed.

Their emotions blended together.

Their voices inside their mind slowly became one voice.

The two children who once promised to protect each other were gone.

In their place, a new being had been born.

The man simply gave it a number.

Number 47.

One day the masked man returned again.

He stood in front of the large tube and looked at the being floating inside.

The green liquid glowed softly around the body. Bubbles slowly floated upward from the breathing tube.

The man began to laugh quietly.

"Hehe..."

"It seems the Lord will be very happy when he sees you."

His eyes shined with excitement as he looked at the creature inside the tube.

"Number 9862."

The bald man stepped forward immediately.

"Yes, my lord."

"It is time."

The masked man crossed his arms behind his back.

"Let Number 47 out."

The bald man bowed slightly.

"Yes, my lord."

He turned and walked toward the control panel beside the glass tube.

His fingers pressed several buttons.

The machines began to hum loudly.

The green liquid inside the tube slowly drained away. The glass opened with a loud hiss as cold air entered.

The body inside slowly collapsed onto the metal floor.

Water dripped from its pale skin.

The being coughed weakly as air finally entered its lungs without the breathing tube.

For the first time in years—

Number 47 breathed freely.

---

Years passed again.

The laboratory was not only a place for experiments.

It was also a place for training.

Number 47 stood in a large open training hall.

The room was wide and empty. Cold stone walls surrounded the area. Several other soldiers were training in the distance.

But the instructor standing in front of 47 only focused on one thing.

The spear in 47’s hands.

"Grip the spear tightly!"

The instructor’s voice echoed loudly through the hall.

47’s body trembled slightly as it tightened its grip.

"Yes."

Its voice sounded calm, but there was always something strange about it. It was neither clearly male nor female.

It was simply a flat voice.

The instructor walked around 47 slowly, watching every movement.

"Your stance is wrong."

He suddenly kicked the back of 47’s leg.

THUD.

47 immediately fell to one knee.

"Stand properly!"

"Yes."

47 stood up again without complaining.

Its face showed no anger.

No pain.

Only quiet obedience.

The instructor stepped back and raised his hand.

"Now..."

"Stab!"

47’s eyes focused forward.

The spear moved instantly.

SWISH!

The weapon cut through the air with speed.

Again.

SWISH!

And again.

SWISH!

For hours the sound of the spear cutting the air continued to echo through the hall.

47 stabbed forward again and again without stopping.

Its arms began to ache.

Its breathing became heavier.

Sweat slowly rolled down its face.

But it did not stop.

The instructor watched carefully.

Finally, after a long time, he raised his hand.

"That’s enough for today."

47 froze immediately.

"Go and cultivate."

47 lowered its spear and bowed politely.

"Yes, instructor."

It turned and quietly walked away.

The instructor watched its back as it left the hall.

He slowly stroked his chin.

"It seems it will not be long now..."

"Number 47 will soon be ready for war."

---

Meanwhile, Number 47 returned to its room.

The room was small and simple.

A single bed.

A table.

And one window.

47 walked toward the window and looked outside.

The sky outside the laboratory walls was dark. The wind moved quietly through the distant trees.

47 sighed softly.

"I don’t even know anymore..."

Its voice was quiet.

"Is it my mind in control..."

"Or my brother’s?"

Its eyes looked distant.

So many years had passed since the day they were kidnapped.

Since the day their lives were destroyed.

After everything they had suffered, sometimes they felt tired.

Very tired.

Sometimes the thought appeared in their mind.

’Maybe it would be easier if we simply died.’

But every time that thought appeared—

It stopped.

Because the girl did not want the brother to suffer.

And the brother did not want the sister to suffer.

So neither of them could choose death.

They simply continued living.

Together.

47 slowly lay down on the cold floor and stared at the ceiling.

"I wish we were normal..."

It closed its eyes for a moment.

Then slowly opened them again.

The softness in its eyes disappeared.

Cold hatred replaced it.

"But don’t worry..."

Its voice became firm.

"Brother..."

"Sister..."

Hatred burned deep inside its heart.

"I will kill that bastard who did this to us."

Its hands slowly tightened into fists.

"I will not let him do whatever he wants."

"Even if I die..."

"I will kill him with my own hands."

The room became silent again.

---

More time passed.

How many years?

Even 47 had stopped counting.

One day—

The war finally came.

---

The battlefield was covered with death.

Bodies were everywhere.

The ground was soaked with dark red blood. Broken weapons lay scattered between the corpses.

Some bodies had their heads torn off.

Some had their eyes ripped out.

Some had been cut completely in half.

The smell of blood filled the air.

Among the dead humans, another race could also be seen.

Demons.

They looked similar to humans, but their bodies were larger.

About one and a half times the size of a normal man.

Two sharp horns grew from their heads.

Their eyes glowed red like burning fire.

The sky above the battlefield had turned deep red.

The setting sun covered everything with an orange glow.

Vultures circled high above, waiting for the battle to fully end.

And in the middle of that silent battlefield—

One demon still lived.

He lay on the ground, his entire body covered in deep wounds.

Blood flowed slowly from his chest.

Even so—

His face was strangely beautiful.

His long black hair spread across the ground like silk.

His sharp red eyes still held pride.

His nose and jawline made his face look almost perfect.

No one would expect such beauty from a demon.

Standing in front of him—

Was Number 47.

Its body was completely clean.

Not even a single drop of blood stained its clothes.

Its face was cold.

Its eyes were filled with deep hatred.

The demon looked at 47 and slowly laughed.

"Heh..."

"So you were truly determined to kill me."

Before 47 could reply—

Another voice spoke from behind.

"Ha ha..."

"That is quite the compliment."

Both of them turned slightly.

A man was walking toward them slowly.

His appearance was so beautiful it almost did not seem real.

Even the most beautiful woman would look plain beside him.

His long black hair moved gently in the wind.

His eyes were deep and dark like endless night.

He wore a perfectly clean white robe.

In his hand he held a simple flute.

The man smiled softly.

"You flatter me, Your Majesty."

The demon’s eyes burned with hatred.

"You are disgusting, Vern Kael."

His voice was filled with anger.

"To kill me..."

"You experimented on children and created this monster?"

"You are worse than a demon."

The man named Vern simply smiled.

"Thank you for the compliment."

He slowly walked closer.

"And the credit belongs to you."

He stopped beside the wounded demon.

"Demon God of Pride."

His voice remained calm.

"If you had not created that vow of invincibility..."

He leaned down slightly.

"Then I would not have needed to be so cruel."

The Demon God of Pride gritted his teeth.

"You are disgusting!"

Vern nodded calmly.

"Yes."

"I agree."

"I am disgusting."

He tapped the flute lightly against his palm.

"But what does it matter?"

He looked down at the wounded demon.

"You are kind."

"You are noble."

"You are proud."

"And yet..."

He smiled faintly.

"You are the one lying on the ground waiting for death."

"And I am the one standing here without a scratch."

He sighed lightly.

"How unfortunate."

The Demon God of Pride glared at him.

"Do not think you will live forever."

"One day..."

"Karma will catch up to you."

"When that day comes..."

"You will understand everything."

Vern chuckled softly.

"Do not worry."

He gently tapped the flute again.

"Everything I do is for karma."

His eyes slowly looked toward the dark sky.

"I am chasing true freedom."

"How could something like karma stop me?"

He looked back down again.

"And everything I am doing..."

"It is for that moment."

"When he is born again."

"If he kills the Dragon of Destruction this time..."

Vern’s smile widened slightly.

"Then controlling everything will only be a matter of time."

He shrugged lightly.

"Of course..."

"There is also a chance I will lose."

After all—

"I am fighting against fate itself."

The Demon God of Pride clenched his fists.

"You will pay for this!"

Vern stretched his arms lazily.

"Well then."

"Let us finish this."

He turned his head slightly.

"47."

Number 47 immediately walked forward and knelt.

"Yes, my lord."

Vern looked down at the wounded demon.

"Kill him."

47 stood up slowly.

"As you wish... my lord."

It walked toward the Demon God of Pride.

Step by step.

Its spear slowly lifted.

But when it looked into the demon’s eyes—

Its expression became slightly complicated.

The demon noticed this.

He smiled gently.

"Go ahead."

"It is my fault for creating that vow of invincibility."

He closed his eyes slowly.

"But do not worry."

His voice remained calm.

"Once I die..."

"This war will finally end."