"Life is so unfair."
Those were the last words Jobadiah, Xander’s father, ever said to him.
This was not a curse, or even a prayer.
It was a silent observation from an old, tired man who had spent his entire existence being cheated by it.
Xander had thought about those words every day since.
He was thinking about them now with the rope around his neck, and the rain falling like the sky had finally decided to mourn him.
Although it was a little late, at least it showed up.
It showed up to cover his silent tears.
Below the gallows, Count Joffrey’s household had turned his execution into a celebration.
They enjoyed the wine he sweated day and night to refine, clinking their goblets.
A woman laughed too loudly at something her friend whispered, and the sound of it irritated Xander’s ears like a grinding stone.
They had dressed for the occasion.
Count Joffrey himself sat in the front row as his ceremonial coat strained against his huge size.
His wife sat beside him—legs folded, face powdered, and even her jewels caught the torchlight.
Xander noticed her.
He noticed everything.
Count Joffrey climbed the gallows for one final indulgence before the lever was pulled.
SLAP...
His hand landed resoundingly on Xander’s face. "Useless frog wanting to eat Swan meat."
Spit...
The sticky substance landed on Xander’s beaten and battered body.
The rope was the only thing that kept him upright regardless of the heavy slap.
If he staggered too much, the noose would tighten prematurely—and Xander was not ready to die.
Not yet.
He had to see it first.
Count Joffrey grunted as he stepped down from the gallows back to his seat, where his beloved beautiful wife sat.
Of course, to Xander, heavy makeup to cover sagging skin and shining stones around the neck did not amount to a beautiful woman.
The Count took her hand and placed a kiss on the back, smiling like a drunk man looking at his next bottle.
The moment he sat, the butler filled his goblet.
"Proceed with the hanging," he ordered.
The priest nodded as he stepped forward, sprinkling Xander with water from a bowl, a cleansing ritual for sinners before they met their inevitable end.
Xander’s eyes wondered around, not caring about the priest.
All he saw were the mocking and smiling faces of the crowd.
The Count’s household.
When he concentrated, he could hear the whispers through the rain.
"That serves him right. It’s better he dies."
"He thinks just because he is so good-looking, we are below him, uhh?"
"Good riddance to bad rubbish." Another added as she spat in disgust.
Some already celebrated his death even before it happened.
’What...? What did I do to deserve such a life? ’
He thought to himself, head raised to the sky.
The memories came.
It all started when he began working for this ungrateful noble family.
His parents were poor.
And that poverty took his mother and little sister.
Only his father, Jobadiah, remained.
Nothing he ever tried worked for him. Whether it be legal or illegal.
And he really tried.
It was not his fault.
There was one thing he carried that always ruined his life.
His incredibly good looks.
"Be grateful," Jobadiah advised while stroking his long white beard, "that is the only gift the heavens ever gave our bloodline. At least we can be proud of owning something others want in this bleak world."
Unfortunately, in this household, this gift was the reason for all the resentment.
Even the beautiful maids would look at him, comparing their looks, only to rush back to their rooms and fall into depression.
They were even rumors of a few men and women that had jumped the bridge.
This was why he was so hated by everyone.
But he worked hard and always did his best.
Just like Jobadiah advised.
He would even appear dirty and rub mud on his face just to drive away the attention.
However, on one hot day, after working hours in the vine yard, he went to the water well to splash water on his face.
—just to quench the heat, but the lady of the house, wife of the count, had seen him through her window.
He had immediately rushed to muddy his face, but it was too late.
Her predatory eyes had found prey. She developed a newfound obsession for him and would regularly visit the vineyard or the winery in search of him.
The other servants quickly took notice of this. But no one dared to talk.
Xander, on the other hand, refused all advances she made on him.
He was like a mouse scared of a cat whenever she was around.
But the vile woman enjoyed the chase.
His father also tried to hide him from her. If not for the fact that they needed the penny pay to survive, he might have suggested they just run away.
Then again, even if they tried, Count Joffrey would not agree.
Since Xander and Jobadiah began working the vineyard and the winery, yield and household income have increased.
If only they could leave.
But powerful people were cruel.
It was a beautiful morning that day.
Count Joffrey had left for a business meeting, and knowing the importance of this meeting, Xander went early to the winery—just to have things in order.
The Count’s wife saw him through her window, biting her lower lip.
She hurried to the winery, swearing to herself that today was going to be the day.
She tried to get her way with him, but Xander refused.
If he dared touch a noble woman, he and Jobadiah would surely be killed.
Xander would not dare.
Within the struggle, the doors to the winery suddenly burst open.
The Count had changed plans last minute and brought his business partners to see his stock.
Both Xander and the Count’s wife froze.
And then she burst into tears—bawling her eyes out.
She pointed at him, trying to cover herself. "Husband... your servant. He... he tried to. He tried to..." More tears followed.
More words need not be said. The implication was clear.
Xander was even more shocked. "I didn’t do anything, my lord. I swear, I didn’t do it. It’s a lie..." He crawled on the ground, grabbing the Count by his boots.
But a KICK located his face.
"You imbecile. I show you kindness and give you work. I feed you. And you betray me like this?
You dare long for my wife?"
Swish...
Count Joffrey unsheathed his sword and struck.
At such a time, Jobadiah had just arrived.
Seeing that his precious son was about to be slaughtered, he dived headfirst.
SLASH...
It was a perfect cut, and the head of the old man lobbied in the air.
—it bounced once. Twice. And came to a stop beside Xander’s feet.
The orphaned neck spilled its content on Xander’s face.
His eyes widened.
Chest tightened.
And a gut-wrenching scream tore from his burning lungs.
He dove on his father’s body, tears gushing from his eyes in absolute disbelief.
Xander’s fingers scrambled to take the old man’s lifeless head.
They were supposed to have lived a fruitful future together.
Xander thought of the times his father had told him his dream.
Not a big one.
Just to have beautiful grandchildren run around him while playing with them.
It was a dream Xander also aspired for. But life was so cruel.
Even such a mediocre fantasy of a good life had been snatched away.
Meanwhile, Count Joffrey’s business partners held him back before he could cause more harm.
That day, it was concluded that Xander be hanged for trying to defile a noblewoman.
There was no trial. No questioning.
Nothing.
No one cared.
His death was sealed.
Now, Xander looked to the grey sky. "It’s so unfair... fate is so unfair. I didn’t even get to choose. To live. It’s just so... unfair."
By now, the rain fell even more.
"Xander... do you have any last words?" The priest asked through the roaring thunder.
This was the last respect given to a man at the gallows. Even a lowly servant like him was entitled to it.
Xander’s eyes scanned the lot of people.
Well over a hundred of them.
All of them drinking and flirting with the thought of his demise.
Then his eyes landed on the wife of the count—the noble woman who crushed his world and his father’s humble dream.
She stared with no shame or remorse. Just another flower crushed underneath her heel.
He turned to the count. "Enjoying the wine?"
Count Joffrey raised a brow.
All of a sudden, he felt a choking feeling from his throat.
He coughed... clearing his throat.
But he was not the only one. The other members of the count’s household suddenly found it more difficult to breathe.
The Count’s wife was no exception.
Goblets fell to the ground.
Xander smiled.
The Count fell from his seat, pointing towards the gallows. "Kill... kill him... kill him... cough... cough."
Immediately, the executioner pushed the lever.
Clack...
The floorboards beneath Xander gave way as the rope tightened around his neck.
Crack... his neck bones snapped from the strain.
But even as the life left his eyes, his gaze remained on the figures falling like domino tiles.
He died smiling.
....
[ALERT]
[Number of deaths: 1, 5, 15,... 100... still counting]
[Basic requirements have been met.]
Congratulations, Xander. You have met the necessary conditions for your Profession activation.
[Profession Assigned: Villainy]
[Note: This Concept Profession has been dormant for 1,000 years.]
[We are watching with interest.]
.....