**Chapter 2: The Villain's Reflection**
At forty years old, worn down by physical exhaustion and a deep, unshakeable emptiness, William had found his only escape in fiction. His routine was simple: work part-time during the day to survive, and spend the night immersed in web novels.
His favorite story was a grand fantasy epic titled *Conquering the World*. He admired the heroes, the grand battles, and the righteous defense of the realm—a stark contrast to his own bleak, insignificant existence.
One stormy night, the heavy rain beat against his window. Exhausted and desperately wishing for a long, undisturbed sleep, William got up to shut the frame. As his hand reached out, a blinding flash of lightning pierced the glass, striking him instantly.
*So this is how it ends,* he thought as white light consumed his senses. *It’s fine. I’m just so tired. I hope whatever comes next brings peace... or maybe, just once, real happiness.*
Consciousness returned not as a quiet drift into nothingness, but as a heavy, uncomfortable weight.
*Why am I still thinking? Did I survive? Did I get a second chance?*
William tried to move, but his body felt impossibly heavy and swollen, as if he had gorged on weeks' worth of food in a single sitting. He looked down and couldn't even see his feet—a massive, soft belly blocked his view entirely. Even lifting his arm felt like pulling an anchor from the mud.
He blinked, taking in his surroundings. He wasn't in a sterile hospital or his cramped slum apartment. He was lying on a lavish, oversized bed draped in silk, inside a grand room filled with carved mahogany furniture and ancient tapestry work.
Gathering every ounce of strength in his sluggish body, William forced himself to sit up, swung his heavy legs off the mattress, and stood. He shuffled toward a tall, ornate full-length mirror standing in the corner.
When he looked at the reflection, his breath caught in his throat.
The face staring back at him was remarkably young and possessed striking, aristocratic features—sharp structure, clear skin, and bright, deep-set eyes, framed by dark hair. Despite the severe obesity of the boy's body, the natural features were undeniably handsome.
*Is this a gift from God?* William thought, mesmerized. *I was never handsome in my past life, just an exhausted, grumpy old man...*
Then, the details clicked together, and the color drained from his face.
*Wait. No... NO! Why him?!*
He recognized this face. This wasn't a hero or a blessed protagonist.
This was **Lucien Alexius Valerian**—a minor, pathetic villain from *Conquering the World* who died before the main story even truly began.
The background flooded into his mind. Born into a high-ranking noble house, the boy was utterly neglected by his family due to his complete lack of mana talent. Starved of affection and desperate for attention, he coped by indulging in excess, becoming obese, abusing servants, and throwing violent tantrums.
In the novel's early Academy Arc, Lucien’s arranged fiancée began spending time with the story's protagonist—an orphan from the slums adopted by the church, who possessed supreme Light affinity and was chosen by the Goddess to become the Holy Warrior. Enraged, the fat villain tried to ambush the protagonist, only to be beaten within an inch of his life. Broken, abandoned by his family once and for all, he eventually died cold and alone in a dark alleyway, without a single soul to weep for him.
*Aeloria...* William thought, a cold sweat breaking out on his neck. He was in the world of the novel—a massive planet five times the size of Earth, co-inhabited by humans, elves, beastkin, merfolk, vampires and dwarves. And he was trapped in the body of a walking target destined for ruin.
*Knock. Knock.*
The sudden sound made him flinch. A hesitant voice filtered through the heavy wooden door:
"Young Master Lucien? The Lord has summoned you to the dining hall. The Family Head requires your presence for an important discussion regarding of you."