Genshin Impact: Villain Life Simulator

Villain Simulator, Ch 55



To achieve his goals, Eberhart was willing to sacrifice everything.

Whether it was killing his mentor, driving away his beloved brother, learning a dishonorable skill like spear-fighting… or even killing his own father.

After dozens of exchanges, Ingobert had been forced into a defensive retreat by Lucas. The earlier battle had already exhausted much of Ingobert's stamina, and now, under the relentless barrage of spear strikes, he was clearly struggling. 

Yet Ingobert showed no fear or hesitation. Instead, he seemed excited. "Come on, defeat me, and the position of the head of the Lawrence family will be yours!"

Strangely, though Lucas could see Ingobert's fatigue in his movements, his mystic eye did not reveal any death lines on Ingobert's body.

Could it be that he was not afraid of death?

With a sudden "clang," shards of ice formed along Ingobert's sword and shot toward Lucas. He barely dodged the attack, but two of the ice shards grazed his shoulder.

The blood froze instantly due to the cold, yet strangely, Lucas felt not a chill but a faint warmth from the wound.

"Sorry, I got a little too excited and accidentally used the power of my Vision," Ingobert chuckled softly. "After all, this is just a spar between father and son, not a battle to the death."

"No…"

Suddenly, flames erupted from Lucas's body. "This battle will decide both victory and life!"

Typically, when Lucas entered immersion mode, he would emotionally align with the character he was playing.

It was like how intense gameplay could stir excitement, or how a touching movie could bring tears. 

But while channeling Eberhart's emotions, Lucas realized something surprising: he didn't feel any deep hatred for his father, Ingobert.

His desire to become the head of the Lawrence family wasn't about revenge or wealth. It was… about seeking recognition.

More than a decade of meticulous planning, advancing step by step.

All for this moment.

Do you see it now, Father? The illegitimate son you've always looked down on is about to replace you!

The flames surrounding Lucas's body finally elicited a look of surprise from Ingobert.

But soon, that surprise turned into excitement.

"So, you too are chosen by the gods!" Ingobert recognized the elemental power surging from Lucas and nodded approvingly. "Well done, Eberhart! Truly excellent!"

On one side was the icy symbol of noble authority. On the other, the rebellious flames of resistance. The clash between them erupted into a battle of equals.

They had never had a normal father-son conversation, but this fight seemed to serve as a long-overdue exchange between them.

"Hey, is this the spear technique you worked so hard to learn? It's too weak!"

"Then how about this move, old man!"

"That spear tip is so thin—can it even hurt anyone?"

"Turn your back on me, and I'll use it to stab right through your old ass!"

"Hahaha… such vulgar language!"

"Well, I am a lowly bastard child, after all!"

Before he knew it, a smile crept across Lucas's face. 

It wasn't the smile of revenge or triumph in claiming the Lawrence family's leadership. Rather, it was a smile of relief.

However, in that moment, Lucas's pupils suddenly dilated. He saw the death line appear on Ingobert's body!

His spear, sharp as a needle, seemed drawn toward that rift, as if by an invisible force, and instinctively, he thrust it toward the target.

By the time Lucas realized what had happened, the needle-sharp tip of his spear had already pierced Ingobert's chest, lifting his body high into the air.

"Anyone struck on the death line will not survive. Be very careful before making your move."

These were the words the Spear Witch had once said to Lucas. The "Mystic Eyes of Death Perception" was a cursed ability—once it locked onto death, there was no turning back.

Blood flowed down the spear, bringing warmth to Lucas's nearly frozen fingers.

"Eberhart…" Ingobert gasped his final words. "It doesn't mean bastard child…"

Lucas already knew this. As part of his efforts to expand his knowledge, Eberhart had never stopped studying, and ancient Mondstadt language was part of that.

Though "Eberhart" was often used as a mocking term for "illegitimate child," its original meaning was "unexpected gift."

Looking at Ingobert's lifeless body, Lucas didn't feel much joy. Instead, a faint emptiness settled in.

Ingobert had always been an immovable mountain in Eberhart's life. Now, the mountain had crumbled into dust.

After years of planning, the goal had been achieved. But what next?

Become the head of the Lawrence family and live like the other foolish nobles, draining the lifeblood of commoners while indulging in a life of luxury… is that really what I want?

Yes, it is.

A slight smirk appeared at the corner of Lucas's—or rather, Eberhart's—mouth.

Why overthink it?

The deed was done. There was no need for second thoughts. Regret… was the indulgence of the weak.

Besides, there was still much to do to become the head of the Lawrence family. Now wasn't the time for sentimentality.

"Master… Master Ingobert!"

At that moment, a startled voice snapped Lucas out of his reverie. It was Luther, who had returned after searching for a way out. He stared at the scene in shock. "What… what have you done?"

"As you can see," Lucas said calmly, "I killed him."

"Why… why did you do this?" Luther still couldn't grasp the situation.

"Isn't it obvious? To become the next head of the Lawrence family," Lucas sneered. "Do you plan to avenge your former master, or will you serve your new one?"

"I…" Luther immediately fell to his knees. "I will serve the rightful head of the Lawrence family!"

"Smart choice," Lucas nodded. "I remember your new wife is quite beautiful. With a wife that lovely, I wouldn't want to die either."

"Are you… talking about Priscilla?" Luther fawned. "Yes, she's very beautiful. In fact, she's still untouched. If Master Eberhart—no, Lord Eberhart desires, I can arrange for her to serve you for a night, or even longer!"

Lucas's suspicion had been correct. To Luther, Priscilla was nothing more than a trophy, even a bargaining chip.

"No need to be so courteous," Lucas whispered in Luther's ear. "I've already sampled her. On your wedding night, no less."

"What?"

Before Luther could react, a searing pain shot through his back, piercing through to his abdomen.

Lucas had already driven his sword down through Luther's back.

"You were a good dog," Lucas said, wiping his hands. "But sadly, dogs don't speak. And you do."

For this plan to succeed perfectly, the most important thing was leaving no witnesses. Even Priscilla's role in lighting the signal fire was to ensure that no survivors returned to Mondstadt to expose him.

Dragging his injured body, Lucas walked slowly to a wall, pressing a hidden lever. With a rumble, a secret door opened.

He knew that everything that happened here would be buried by the snow.

As the door closed behind him, Lucas glanced at the stiffening corpses one last time, muttering to himself:

"Goodbye, my dear, hated father."

[Successfully entered text mode]

[Although you succeeded in killing your father, you yourself were gravely injured in the fight. The wounds, especially the ones from the ice blades, throbbed with a searing pain… indeed, Ingobert's ice element had the power to burn like fire.]

[Most of your supplies were left behind in the sealed chamber, and you no longer had the strength to carry them. However, you had already made meticulous plans, placing supply caches along your escape route. Now, you could only hope that the food and water hadn't been dug up by passing boars.]

[Your luck held. Out of the twenty supply caches you had placed, thirteen remained intact. Despite nearly collapsing from exhaustion several times during your escape, it was as though an invisible force carried your body through the devouring wilderness of the snow mountain.]

[After leaving the mountain, you didn't return to Mondstadt immediately. Instead, you waited at a location outside the city. One day passed, then five, then ten—Priscilla never lit the signal fire, meaning that no possible survivors had made it back to the city to expose you.]

[Finally, with your wounds partially healed, you returned to the Lawrence family estate. Ironically, when you arrived, your family was holding a funeral. Even more ironically, it was a funeral for Ingobert—but only his portrait was being honored… you weren't even considered worthy of being commemorated.]

[Nevertheless, your return stirred a great deal of excitement. Before the family elders, you put on an impressive performance, weaving a lie about what had happened in the snow mountains—]

[On your journey, many members of the group had perished in various disasters. After finally finding the treasure, the remaining mercenaries turned on you, wanting to kill you and take the treasure for themselves. Despite your best efforts, the family head, Ingobert, and the servant, Luther, died with the attackers. You were the sole survivor, barely escaping with your life.]

[The death of the family head was a serious matter, but even more important was that the Lawrence family could not be without a leader. Although the next head should have been your elder brother, Parsifal, everyone knew that he had fled in disgrace and could not possibly inherit the family's legacy.]

[You had already won over certain factions within the family. They stood up now, arguing that you, as the only surviving bloodline of the former family head, should inherit the position. Others opposed, stating that you, a mere illegitimate child without the Lawrence name, had no right to claim the title.]

[As the family debated fiercely, a woman timidly entered the room, informing everyone that her husband, Luther, had told her before leaving that Ingobert had planned to officially grant Eberhart the Lawrence name after the snow mountain expedition. She suggested that evidence of this could be found in Ingobert's room.]

[That woman was none other than Priscilla, dressed in mourning attire, her face filled with grief. Naturally, no one doubted her words.]

[You all entered Ingobert's room, and after some searching, found a handwritten letter beneath a book. The contents were simple: "At the conclusion of this snow mountain expedition, I will officially grant my second son, Eberhart, the family name of Lawrence, thereby confirming his status as the legitimate heir. Should I meet an untimely end, this decision shall remain in effect. Anyone who covets the family head position and disrupts the rightful bloodline shall be executed without mercy."]

[The handwriting and seal were undoubtedly Ingobert's. Although many still had reservations about you becoming the family head, the letter forced them into silence.]

[A nation cannot go without a king, and a family cannot go without a leader. After Ingobert's funeral, you were formally named the head of the Lawrence family and took control of the Crest of Frost.]

[At last, you had achieved your goal. From a premature child born in a stable, you had risen to become the leader of the most powerful noble family in Mondstadt. Yet, oddly enough, you didn't feel the excitement you should have.]

[Those who once looked down on you, those who mocked you, now bowed at your feet. But there was no one left with whom you could share this triumph—your mother, your mentor, your brother… even your father had become stepping stones on your path to success.]

[A month later, you announced that, in honor of Luther, the loyal servant who had died protecting the family head during the snow mountain rebellion, you would marry his widow, Priscilla.]

Seeing this sentence, Lucas couldn't help but laugh.

Cao Cao's famous line, "I'll take care of your wife and child, don't worry," had taken on a new meaning in his case.

[The head of the Lawrence family marrying a commoner, and a widow at that, naturally met with strong opposition. But you stood firm, and the wedding was held with great fanfare.]

[The wedding was like a slap in the face to the nobles who had opposed you. Of course, this was merely one of the many "outrageous" acts you would commit after becoming the head of the Lawrence family.]

"Enter immersive mode," Lucas muttered as a thought occurred to him.

[Ah, because it's your wedding night, right?]

"No," Lucas replied calmly, "I just want to confirm something."

[Successfully entered immersive mode]

Once again, you found yourself with Priscilla, just like the last time, in a wedding chamber.

However, this time, it wasn't someone else's wedding night—it was yours.

Truth be told, Lucas didn't have deep feelings for Priscilla. At most, he felt a certain fondness. The primary reason he married her was simply to fulfill a promise he had made.

After all, noble marriages were usually just for show. Most noble couples led separate lives after marriage, which was common knowledge.

Unlike the last wedding, though, Priscilla's smile now was genuine as she sat on the bed.

"What's wrong?" Priscilla asked, noticing her husband's odd expression. "Is something on your mind?"

"Priscilla, there's something I've always wanted to ask you," Lucas hesitated for a moment before speaking. "That letter we found in Ingobert's room… did you forge it?"

Back in the snow mountain, Ingobert had told Eberhart that he had decided to make him the heir. However, Lucas had assumed at the time that his father had said it merely to save his own life.

That's why he was asking now. He desperately hoped the letter had been forged.

Otherwise, everything he had done would have been meaningless.

"How could that be?" Priscilla shook her head and smiled. "Do you think a poor commoner like me would even know how to read or write, let alone forge Ingobert's handwriting? …Hey, why are you…"

"It's nothing," Lucas said as he wiped away a tear from his eye and smiled. "I'm just… really happy."

"Really?" Priscilla blushed. "To be honest, I never thought you'd actually marry me, but I couldn't help but believe in you."

"Of course, I'd marry you," Lucas said as he picked her up. "After all, the Lawrence bloodline needs to continue."

Priscilla's face glowed with happiness.

Seeing her smile brought Lucas a deep sense of comfort.

He had deceived his brother, killed his mentor, murdered his father, and slaughtered countless people in the snow mountain. The Eberhart he had become was, without a doubt, a true villain.

But now, Eberhart's "revenge" was over, and the life of the head of the Lawrence family had only just begun.

[Re-entering text mode]

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Author's Note: Its just the starting.....


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