"WHAT THE FUCK."
Ethan's voice cracked, echoing off the high stone ceiling of the lavish bedroom.
The maid didn't even flinch. She simply offered a crisp, perfectly executed curtsy. "I have laid out your execution clothes on the bed, My Lord. Black velvet. It hides the bloodstains so as not to offend the crowds. Please do not dawdle."
With that, she turned on her heel and calmly walked out of the room, shutting the heavy oak doors with a soft, final click.
Ethan stared at the door. Then, very slowly, his head swiveled toward the tiny, glowing Soul Guide hovering near the bookshelf.
She was currently whistling a painfully out-of-tune melody and intently studying the spine of an encyclopedia, doing her absolute best to avoid eye contact.
"Explain," Ethan breathed, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and sheer terror. "Explain right now."
[Well...] The chibi winced, floating down to sit on the edge of his desk, kicking her tiny, glowing legs. [It's a funny story, really. You see, the original Ethan Nox—the guy whose body you are currently occupying—wasn't exactly a good person.]
"Define 'wasn't exactly a good person.'"
[He was a sociopathic, corrupt, arrogant, talentless, lecherous piece of aristocratic garbage who spent the last five years ruining the lives of everyone around him,] the guide said cheerfully, ticking the points off on her tiny fingers. [Oh! And he committed high treason against the Crown. Can't forget the treason!]
Ethan rubbed his temples.
He could feel a migraine building behind his eyes.
A migraine, and also the very real, impending sensation of a blade severing his neck. "Okay. Fine. Bad guy. But what's this about an execution?! I just got here! Where is my cheat skill? Where is my overpowered magic?! Why didn't I get reincarnated as a baby so I had time to prepare?!"
[Because your soul resonated perfectly with this body! And technically, you do have a cheat skill,] the guide said, puffing out her chest. [Allow me to formally introduce the System. Say 'Status'.]
"Status," Ethan barked.
Instantly, a translucent blue screen materialized in the air before him.
[STATUS]
Name: Ethan Nox (Transmigrator)
Level: 1 (Mortal Realm)
Strength: 4 (Pathetic)
Agility: 5 (Sluggish)
Mana: 0 (Crippled)
Charm: 95 (Peerless)
[Active Debuffs:]
-[Black Lotus Poison (Lethal): Mana pathways are destroyed. Max HP reduced to 10%. You survived the initial dose, but a stiff breeze could kill you.]
[Titles:]
- [Trash of the Nox Family]
-[Dead Man Walking]
Ethan stared at the screen.
"I have zero mana. My health is at ten percent. And my only good stat is Charm?!" Ethan threw his hands in the air. "What am I supposed to do, seduce the executioner?!"
[Well, about the executioner...] the guide coughed awkwardly. [You see, the people executing you aren't just random guards. The original Ethan Nox managed to severely offend five of the most powerful, prodigial women in the Empire. He broke their hearts, stole their family heirlooms, framed their families, and generally acted like a colossal scumbag.]
The guide snapped her tiny fingers. Another screen popped up, displaying five silhouettes of women. Even in shadow, they looked terrifyingly powerful.
[According to the laws of causality, these five women were supposed to be your Fated Harem! But because the original Ethan was such a villain, their 'Affection' turned to 'Absolute Murderous Intent'. They teamed up, overthrew your family, and are now waiting in the courtyard to personally chop your head off!]
Ethan's jaw unhinged.
He was living out a webnovel trope, but it was completely inverted. He didn't get the loving, devoted harem. He got the harem that wanted to turn him into human confetti.
"T-there has to be a way out. I'm a transmigrator!" Ethan paced the room frantically, his college-student brain shifting into overdrive. "I read hundreds of webnovels! I just need to use my System! You said I had a cheat! What's my Unique Skill?!"
[Ding! Generating Unique Skill based on Host's current Karmic Fate!]
A golden glow erupted from the system screen. Ethan held his breath.
This was it. The reversal. The power that would let him blast his way out of here, become peerless, and live the life he deserved.
[Unique Skill Unlocked: Peerless Scapegoat (Mythic)]
Description: The stronger your Fated Harem's desire to brutally murder you, the more System Points and EXP you generate by simply surviving their presence. As long as they actively hate you, you will grow stronger.
Ethan blinked. "Wait. So to get stronger... I need these women to constantly want to kill me?"
[Precisely!]
"If they forgive me, or if they kill me, I lose?"
[You catch on fast!]
[DING! MAIN QUEST INITIATED!]
[Quest: Survive the Guillotine]
Objective: Survive your trial and execution.
Time Limit: 45 Minutes.
Reward: Full Poison Cleanse, Mana Unlocking, +1,000 System Points.
Failure: Beheading. True Death.
"Forty-five minutes?!"
Before Ethan could even begin to formulate a plan, the heavy oak doors burst open.
Four towering guards clad in dark, heavy plate armor marched into the room. They didn't bow.
They didn't show an ounce of respect. The lead guard stepped forward, grabbing Ethan by the collar of his expensive silk shirt with a gauntleted hand and hauling him forward.
"Time's up, scum," the guard spat. "The Ladies are waiting."
"Hey! Watch the silk!" Ethan yelled, but his pathetic '4 Strength' meant he was dragged out of the room like a misbehaving toddler.
His mind raced as he was hauled down endless, opulent stone corridors.
'Think, Ethan, think!' he screamed internally. 'If I beg for mercy, they'll know I'm weak and kill me. If I act arrogant like the old Ethan, they'll kill me out of spite. I can't fight. I can't run.'
He had only one weapon.
His Webnovel knowledge.
He had read enough "Trash Young Master" and "Villain" novels to know how this worked. To survive overpowered protagonists, you couldn't play their game.
You had to completely break their expectations. You had to make them hesitate.
I need to be profoundly confusing. I need to gaslight them into thinking my death is a bad idea.
The heavy wooden doors of the courtyard were shoved open.
Blinding sunlight hit Ethan's eyes, followed by the deafening roar of a massive crowd.
Thousands of peasants and nobles were gathered in the stands, screaming for his blood. Tomatoes and rotten cabbages rained down, splashing against the cobblestones near his boots.
In the center of the courtyard sat a wooden execution block.
And standing next to it was the most breathtaking, terrifying woman Ethan had ever seen.
She wore sleek, silver combat armor that hugged a flawless figure. Long, cascading silver hair blew in the wind, framing a face so perfectly beautiful it looked sculpted by the gods themselves. But her icy blue eyes held a hatred so deep, so absolute, that it made Ethan's soul shiver.
In her hands, she casually rested a massive, rune-etched greatsword on the execution block.
[WARNING!]
[Target Identified: Lysandra Vance - The Sword Maiden of the North]
[Status: Fated Harem Member #1]
[Current Murderous Intent: 999%]
[Host is generating 10 EXP per second just by standing near her!]
The guards kicked the back of Ethan's knees, forcing him down onto the cobblestones before her.
Lysandra looked down at him, her lips curling into a sneer of pure, unfiltered disgust. She slowly raised the massive greatsword, the magical runes glowing with a deadly blue light.
"Ethan Nox," Lysandra's voice was like cracking ice, loud enough for the cheering crowd to hear. "You ruined my family. You destroyed my life. Have you any final words before I sever your treacherous head?"
The crowd went dead silent, waiting for the villain to beg, to cry, to curse them all.
Ethan knelt there. His heart was hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. One wrong word, and he was dead permanently.
He took a slow, deep breath. He channeled every ounce of his '95 Charm' stat, looked up into Lysandra's furious, beautiful eyes, and gave a soft, melancholic smile.
"Only one," Ethan said softly, his voice echoing with a tragic, world-weary weight. "I'm glad it's you."
Lysandra froze.
The sword paused mid-air.
Ethan inwardly grinned. Checkmate, trope.