The Villainous Me Turned the Losers into Blackened Bosses-Chapter 92 - The Demon’s Gaze

“I never expected… even you would seek the demon’s gaze during the coronation ceremony.”

In the pitch-black void, only a strand of silver hair was visible in the center of Treya’s vision.

The silver sword in her hand had transformed the moment she entered—into the right leg of her broken teddy bear, Dada.

Holding the plush leg, the limp teddy bear pointed toward the silver-haired figure’s back.

Wasn’t she…

Performing a sword dance?

Wasn’t she at the coronation ceremony?

This place…

“This is the inside of the Demon’s Spirit Jar… Seeking a contract with the demon is a ritual, one that requires the proper attire to complete.”

As if understanding her thoughts, the figure spoke.

“Ahaha, but at some point, this truth was hidden from the public. Using secrecy, suspicion, and even betrayal to vie for the demon’s favor—it’s my favorite kind of drama.”

Then…

The figure turned halfway around…

Treya saw that she looked exactly like herself.

She sat on the black floor, her lower half blending seamlessly with the dark surface, as if she were one with it.

But her age…

Seemed ten years younger.

She looked like a child version of herself.

“The Demon’s Spirit Jar…”

Treya murmured the name.

“Isn’t it the God-Blessed—”

“That’s what you call it. But it doesn’t matter…”

In the next moment, the figure leaned closer to her.

Identical eyes stared into hers, but the voice that came out was a chaotic blend of men, women, the elderly, and children, all speaking at once—

“I don’t care.”

And within that voice, Treya thought she heard the gentle tone her father used when speaking to her. Instinctively, she took a step back.

“You’re not me… You’re…”

Before she could finish, a shadow of black flashed across her vision.

From her father’s face, to the grandfather she had never met, to the portraits of previous Entark kings hanging in her family’s halls…

Finally, all these figures overlapped with the five-year-old version of herself standing before her.

“A demon nurtured by you, a demon that has grown alongside the Entark family.”

The figure shifted forms endlessly, but ultimately settled on her own likeness.

“Every legitimate member of the Entark bloodline can become ‘me.’ Don’t concern yourself with my identity; I’ve been symbiotic with your family for a long time.”

The voice, too, shifted endlessly, but eventually settled into the voice of her younger self.

“Since you’ve come here…”

The demon—or rather, the collective entity of the demon—stood up.

Treya took a step back, noticing for the first time that the figure was barefoot.

“You must be here to claim power from me and seize the throne. Hmm, it’s about time, isn’t it? Perhaps the Entark family should declare an empire by now?”

However, before the figure could finish speaking—

Shing.

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A flash of silver cut through the darkness.

A strand of the demon’s hair was sliced off, falling into the black floor and vanishing.

The plushy leg in Treya’s hand had transformed back into her worn silver sword, cutting straight through the demon’s hair.

“Let… let me go back.”

“I still have to keep my promise… my promise to perform the best sword dance at the coronation ceremony.”

“Hahahahaha… This is… the first time someone has come here only to outright refuse me.”

The demon laughed, its voice a chilling mix of all the Entark kings who had come before.

“Stop laughing. Let me go back. The coronation ceremony is very important…”

“Hahaha, are you serious?”

Following the sharp edge of her silver sword, the demon suddenly leaned in close, staring directly into her eyes. Its pale blue eyes reflected her own image.

It was unnervingly eerie.

“Interesting, very interesting. You’re quite amusing. Tell me, isn’t it strange that Will, who dressed you in this outfit, especially those stockings, didn’t tell you what you’d encounter here?”

Will.

Treya’s ears perked up at the mention of his name.

Her mind instantly conjured an image of him.

“Oh, it’s him, isn’t it? Did he send you here, little Princess Treya?”

“Probably. But he asked me to complete the coronation ceremony, so I’m leaving.”

Treya turned, as if convinced that retracing her steps would lead her back to the real world.

But…

“It’s rare to see someone arrive here without understanding their own heart and desires. You’ve piqued my interest.”

“After all, I am a demon…”

“The one most skilled at guiding your darker instincts.”

“If you’ve chosen to step into this place, don’t think you can leave so easily.”

The demon snapped its fingers.

Before Treya, a hollow shell in the shape of a teddy bear appeared, colorful yet empty.

Through this hollow, she could see a disturbingly vivid scene on the other side—

Will…

Dressed in prison rags.

Bound and standing before a guillotine.

He looked up at the sky, his expression one of disappointment.

Then…

Clang.

As the blade fell, the colorful hollow of the teddy bear shattered, just like the abandoned plushy toy she had once held up to him.

It hit the ground…

And broke.

The vibrant colors it had revealed sank back into the darkness.

Treya didn’t speak, but the rapid beating of her heart betrayed the words she couldn’t say.

—W-what’s going on?

—Anger… sadness… fear… all these complex emotions surged within her.

“You may not want the throne. But… think carefully, very carefully, about what Eugenie said to him—the words you overheard.”

“If you fail, what will happen?”

“In the ‘black’ Entark dynasty, what will happen?”

“In a world where even your sister betrays you, what will happen?”

“The one who saved you, taught you, supported you—what will happen to him?”

Treya listened to these words, slowly turning back around.

“And think about his dream-talk…”

“What is your desire?”

“What. Is. It?”

The demon leaned closer, tilting its head and grinning as it stared at her.

“What… should I do?”

Treya asked, facing the demon.

—

“Her sword style… it’s changed…”

Even someone as unskilled in swordsmanship as Will could see it.

On stage, Treya had clearly paused for a few seconds, and when she resumed, her sword movements were no longer the simple, precise basics she had been performing earlier.

It had shifted from a mere “sword dance” to something that looked like she was truly facing an opponent.

The power behind her strikes had increased dramatically.

Will began to think…

His intel had told him that as long as Treya wore the proper attire during the coronation ceremony, she would gain the demon’s favor and learn Demon Swordsmanship.

—At least, that’s how everyone else had done it before, and even the original story had followed a similar path.

So…

He had confidently sent her on stage in this outfit.

After all, the demon sounded like a being closely tied to “blackening.”

And then he would guide Treya toward her “personal desires”—she was probably just thinking about revenge at this point. There was no way she’d skip straight to love, right?

The demon’s involvement should’ve been a straightforward matter!

…

Right?

For some reason, watching Treya now, Will felt a chill run down his spine.

“Hmm… Treya…”

“She should… be following the… normal process… right?”