When I Finished Playing the Terminally-Ill Villainous Omega C28

Chapter 28

I asked him cautiously,

“What were you reading? I didn’t interrupt you, did I?”

“I was just about to stop. It was rather dull.”

Thud.

He shut the thick book in a single motion and set it aside.

“Why? What was it about?”

“Nothing of consequence.”

“If it was boring to you… hmm… it must’ve been romance! Right?”

I said it with a laugh, but he only stared at me blankly. The coldness in his gaze made me stiffen at once.

“I mean—what I’m saying is, I’m not calling you romance-illiterate. You just don’t seem interested in that sort of thing, haha… So? What kind of story was it?”

I hurriedly changed the subject. After blinking once, he slowly began to speak.

“It was… about the tragic end of a monster that trusted humans.”

“Oh! I know that genre—non-human romance, right?”

Among the trade goods, there were sometimes novels depicting love between humans and monsters. None I had read ended well, so I had stopped picking them up.

I hated sad endings.

“I like those stories. Tell me more—please?”

Even so, I lied and pressed him for the details. There was only one reason.

I was always the one talking. Inevitably, I would run out of things to say—and when that happened, Locke would simply stand, bid me farewell, and leave.

I wanted an excuse to keep him talking a little longer.

Spending time with the first friend I had made in this new life was far more enjoyable than reading trashy novels alone. He didn’t react much to what I said, but just having someone there—someone listening—made the world feel less lonely, less like I had been cast adrift into isolation.

As I continued to pester him, Locke finally relented, as though raising both hands in surrender.

“It’s not particularly interesting.”

“I like quiet love stories too.”

“I told you—it’s not a love story.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Alright, alright!”

I urged him on, smiling brightly, telling him to get on with it whether it was tragic or not. With a faint crease between his brows, he began recounting the story in a low, pleasing voice.

It was the tale of a young Destruction who had been deceived by twelve mages developing a territory and, as a result, lost his land.

What was Destruction? A being of unimaginable power, far beyond anything a human could conceive. In the imperial concubine world’s setting, such an entity was called “Destruction.”

There was a legend: if Destruction collapsed mentally 666 times, it would awaken a power so vast it defied comprehension. This state was called the Great Destruction, capable of obliterating entire continents with a mere gesture. Even tens of thousands of archmages could not hope to stop it—it was, quite literally, the end of all things.

I had never encountered such power, nor even heard credible rumors of it. In my mind, it seemed no more real than dragons or phoenixes.

As the story unfolded, it became clear—human greed knew no bounds. The mages, welcomed into fertile land, had begun to covet not only the territory but also the immense power of the young Destruction.

Definitely a tragedy.

At the age of twenty-five, Destruction would attain its full form and power. But before that came a vulnerable period, during which it became weaker than even a low-ranking monster. This was when the heart—the source of its power—was being completed.

The twelve mages seized upon this moment. They planned to kill it and divide its power among themselves.

Only one among them refused.

A barrier mage—one of the twelve great sages who had helped found the nation.

Learning of their scheme, he hid Destruction within his barrier, intending to protect it until its heart was complete. But the cunning humans manipulated even him, using his own barrier to lure Destruction out.

And so, in the end, neither could protect the other—and both met a miserable end.

“…That’s awful. That’s so sad…”

After hearing it, I felt as though a hollow had been carved out of my chest.

“I feel miserable now.”

“You were the one who asked me to tell you.”

“I’m not blaming you. Sometimes your thoughts just… go in strange directions, you know?”

“It’s because you speak in circles.”

“I do not!”

I crossed my arms, sulking. He, as always, remained indifferent. With a friend so emotionally detached, I supposed it was only natural that I, who felt everything too deeply, would have to bridge the gap.

“What I meant was—I wanted you to share in the sadness.”

“What is there to be sad about?”

“They didn’t end up together. Doesn’t that make you sad?”

“It was never possible for them to begin with. There is nothing to grieve.”

“…Wow. Is your heart made of ice? How can you be so cold?”

“What’s cold about it? They were different species, and there was no romantic sentiment between them.”

At that, I couldn’t help but flare up.

“What are you talking about? Anyone could see it—they loved each other deeply!”

For the first time, Locke’s eyes shifted fully toward me. There was a flicker—something like surprise—in those golden depths.

“They did not.”

“They absolutely did.”

“I said they did not.”

“Why are you getting angry? Are you the protagonist or something? Did I say you were the one in love with the barrier mage?”

“It’s because you keep insisting on something you know nothing about.”

“I’m stating the obvious! That’s not insisting—that’s just telling the truth! You seriously don’t understand romance at all, do you?”

“Do I need to?”

He arched one brow, as if inviting me to continue.

At that moment, I felt as though I finally understood why someone with such looks and physique had lived his entire life without a lover.

Because he was clueless.

I had never met anyone so utterly dense about romantic emotions. Even my father—who had been abusive and cruel—had loved my mother deeply. Yet this one… what kind of heart did he have? Even from the summary alone, the depth of their love was obvious, yet he had felt nothing.

“Forget it. Let’s just eat biscuits.”

There was no point continuing. Explaining romance to someone like him would only frustrate me further.

I began untying the ribbon around the box. It was tied so tightly that I practically had to rip it apart.

After a brief silence, Locke spoke with unusual seriousness.

“May I ask you something?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Still frowning at the ribbon, I nodded.

“If both of them loved each other so deeply… does that mean the barrier mage also felt love?”

I lifted my gaze.

His throat bobbed slowly as he awaited my answer.

For the first time, it felt like we were having a real conversation.

My heart began to pound.

“Of course. Even in the face of death, he stood by Destruction and protected him until the end.”

“If protecting someone is love… then you said you would protect me. Does that mean that is love as well?”

“…What? What kind of terrifying conclusion is that…?”

I rubbed at the goosebumps rising on my arms.

“That’s not love—that’s friendship. Friendship and love are completely different. The barrier mage loved Destruction as a romantic partner and wanted to protect him. I like you as a friend and want to protect you as a friend.”

“The feeling you described—liking someone as the opposite sex—is that reverence, like worshipping a god? Or is it sexual attraction? And how are friendship and love distinguished?”

…What was he even saying?

Sometimes, when talking to him for too long, I wondered whether I was speaking to a human or some distant alien lifeform.

“The latter, obviously! Wanting to hold them, to kiss them, to share both emotional and physical intimacy—that kind of love! Love is between lovers, and friendship is between friends. If you mix the two up—that’s a disaster. A huge one.”

“But the book I read contained no such emotional descriptions.”

“If a story spelled out every feeling from one to ten, it wouldn’t be a novel—it’d be a manual.”

“The barrier mage drove Destruction away, told him never to return, hurled insults at him. He even expressed disgust, saying not to touch him. And yet—you are certain such feelings existed?”

Locke’s gaze wavered.

It was the first time I had seen him show genuine interest in something. I wanted to explain it to him properly… yet at the same time, a mischievous urge stirred within me—I wanted to see that pleading look linger just a little longer.

So I folded my arms and pretended to think.

“…That wasn’t part of what you told me earlier, was it?”

“How could I recount an entire book in mere minutes?”

“Exactly my point. Which is why—”

I smiled at him.

Because I had just thought of a way to make him, who always found me bothersome and trivial, begin to anticipate our meetings instead.

notes

1. Destruction (멸망) – A supreme, near-apocalyptic entity within the novel’s world, embodying catastrophic power beyond human comprehension.
2. The Number 666 – Traditionally associated with ominous or apocalyptic symbolism; here, it signifies repeated psychological collapse leading to ultimate power.