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Pampered By The Sadistic Academy Villain

Pampered By The Sadistic Academy Villain

I woke up to the suffocating smell of copper and sulfur, my fingers wrapped around a blood-soaked leather whip. Hanging from an obsidian cross in front of me was a boy with silver hair and dead, golden eyes. His pale chest was torn open to the bone. I recognized those eyes immediately. I had spent three years describing them on my laptop. He was Kamari Monroe, the tragic, overpowered protagonist of my own web novel. And I wasn't just a bystander. I was Benedict Guerrero, the sadistic academy headmaster. The ultimate villain. A reel of images flashed in my mind: my original ending. Kamari, fully awakened, skinning me alive and burning my soul in a furnace for forty-nine days. My loyal attack dog, Gideon, stepped forward with a basin of glowing green liquid. "Headmaster, let me wake him up with this bone-rot acid so you can resume." If that acid hit Kamari, his hatred would become permanent. My gruesome death would be sealed. But if I broke character and apologized, the magical world would sense the shift, and Kamari would just think it was a sicker, more twisted trap. How was I supposed to survive a death sentence I wrote myself? I couldn't show weakness. I had to play the monster to survive. Suppressing my terror, I smashed the acid basin, healed his ruined flesh with agonizing dark magic, and lied straight to his face. "Someone had to be the monster to push you into the fire." This time, I will rewrite my own fate.
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Chapter 3

Julian let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He turned toward the heavy oak doors. "Get in here!" he barked. Two academy guards pushed the doors open. They took one look at Gideon pinned to the floor and visibly swallowed hard. "Get him down," Julian ordered, pointing at Kamari. The guards rushed to the cross. They fumbled with the heavy iron keys. One guard grabbed Kamari by the bicep and yanked him forward to loosen the chain. Kamari let out a low, pained grunt in his sleep. His brow furrowed deeply. Julian's chest tightened. "Watch your hands, idiot!" he snapped. "If you break my toy, I'll take your arm as compensation!" The guard flinched as if he had been struck. He immediately softened his grip, handling the unconscious boy like fragile glass. They lowered Kamari onto a canvas stretcher. Julian followed them out of the dungeon and into the dimly lit underground corridor. Footsteps echoed ahead. Three men in crisp black uniforms marched toward them. They wore silver badges on their chests-two crossed swords. The Disciplinary Committee. The man in the front stopped, blocking the hallway. Vance. He looked at the bloody boy on the stretcher and smirked. "Headmaster," Vance said, his tone lacking any real respect. "By academy protocol, this defective student damaged the warding barriers. He belongs in the Committee's holding cells now." Julian remembered the book. If Kamari went to the Committee, Vance would torture him until his magic circuits permanently scarred. And Kamari would blame Julian for handing him over. Julian stopped walking. He let the coldness of Benedict's persona wash over his face. "Are you trying to tell me how to run my academy, Vance?" Julian asked softly. Vance frowned. "It is Director Malachi's order. The protocol must be followed." Julian stepped forward. He placed his body directly between Vance and the stretcher. "Protocol?" Julian sneered. "I am the protocol." He reached into his spatial ring. He pulled out a heavy obsidian seal-the Headmaster's absolute authority. He shoved it inches from Vance's face. "Headmaster's override," Julian said, his voice flat and dangerous. "Kamari Monroe is my case. I am taking personal control." Vance's face turned a mottled red. He stared at the seal, his jaw tight. "You will have to explain this to the Board of Trustees." "Get out of my sight," Julian said. Vance glared at him, then spun on his heel and marched away with his men. Julian felt the tension drain from his shoulders. He turned back to the stretcher. He needed the guards to spread the word that he was acting strange. He needed witnesses to his 'change of heart'. Julian let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh. He reached out and gently brushed the sweat-soaked silver hair away from Kamari's forehead. He let his face soften into an expression of deep, painful guilt. "Why do you make this so hard on yourself?" Julian murmured softly. The two guards exchanged terrified glances. The Headmaster was showing pity. It was unnatural. Suddenly, Julian felt a violent flinch under his fingertips. He looked down. Kamari's eyes were open by a fraction. Through the veil of his silver lashes, those golden eyes were locked onto Julian's face. He had seen the guilt. He had heard the words. Julian's stomach flipped, but he quickly pulled his hand back and straightened his posture.

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