Kantan na Monitor desu - Reaper Game 02: Setup

The protagonist, Punk, is a cautious, cold-blooded, and ruthless Mage.

His goal is always his top priority, over feelings or morality. When unnecessary, he doesn’t like to act like pigs to eat tigers; there are almost no life and death struggles, sometimes risky but steady progress. No strong enemy everywhere, Instead, Punk is always a strong enemy of others.

And he has a very keen interest in the secrets and teachings of the Netheril civilization.

They say opposite attracts, that's a lie. Opposites kill each other!When a hot blood meets another hot blood, things are bound to get burnt.That is exactly what happens when the pompous and prideful elven princess, Neriah of the Avelah Kingdom is forced to marry the brash dragon Prince, Barak of the Trago Kingdom.Neriah's goal is to someday break away from her marriage and run away with the love of her life, Lyle of the Niles. While Barak will do everything to keep her as a wife.Neriah is certain she's in love with another, but she's also certain that no one can ignite the kind of passion her husband brings. Her husband who she hates more than anything.Can the flames of passion be drawn from hate? Can that same passion burn down the walls of lies, betrayal, and hurt? Can its ashes transcend into love?Excerpt“I am a rose, a beautiful flower, delicate and precious! But you my dear sir are nothing but the thorny stem! Prickly, dangerous and very harmful!” ranted Neriah while poking his chest with her index finger.“Well you seem to forget one important detail, my love.” He calmly grabbed her poking hand.“And what would that be, my fine sir?”“That the thorny stem and the rose grow together. The delicate rose and the prickly thorn, they belong together my dear.”“You—”“And no amount of ranting and raging will change that. You think I want to keep a witch like you? You are a pain in the neck. If I am a thorn then you are a piece of fish bone stuck inside my neck. I cannot swallow and I can not spit it out! I just have to bear it!”“You insolent bastard! Do you mean to say I am a burden!”“Well you are no precious prize, are you?”And that was it, she threw herself at him with her claws ready to mar his face, but he was quicker and he caught both her hands with one of his own and pressed her heaving chest upon his. Golden eyes stared deep into hers. They were as green as the fresh leaves on an orange tree.His fingers caressed her face, “You might not be a precious prize, but by the heavens, you are mine.” And his lips fell on hers, and once again, another argument was drowned.

Akashi was a boy so beautiful it seemed the gods had sculpted him with a touch of mischief and a dash of fragility. He wasn’t handsome in the rugged, masculine way of knights or warriors. No—his beauty was softer, captivating in its innocence. His frame was small, almost delicate, and his pale skin looked as if it had never known hardship, kissed only by the gentle sunlight of his village fields.With wide, striking black eyes that shimmered like obsidian under moonlight, and hair the color of a calm, endless ocean, Akashi possessed a charm that defied age, status, or reason. He didn’t know it, but his very existence pulled at the hearts of those who saw him—like an untouched gem waiting to be claimed.And yet, he had been untouched for a reason. Akashi had never known life beyond the boundaries of his village. He grew up surrounded by warm smiles and familiar voices. Every elder knew his name. Every child wanted to play by his side. His days were simple, his heart untouched by cruelty.But peace is a fragile thing.One night, it shattered.The sky turned crimson. Screams tore through the quiet air. Fires devoured homes. Demons—twisted beasts of shadow and rage—descended without warning. They killed with a hunger that could not be reasoned with.By morning, the village was gone.Ashes, corpses, and silence were all that remained.And Akashi… Akashi was alone.The last heartbeat in a graveyard of memories.He wandered for days, hollow and dazed, until rough hands seized him. Chains replaced freedom. Smiles were replaced by cold appraisals. And so, the boy once adored by all became something else—something to be sold.A slave.At the capital's grand auction house, he was stripped, washed, and displayed like merchandise. His beauty caused a stir. Whispers spread like wildfire.“Look at those eyes...”“That hair... Is it dyed? No, it’s real...”“So delicate... Is he even human?”To them, he was no longer a boy with a heart, but a prize to possess. A fantasy in fragile form.He stood on the stage, trembling slightly, barely able to process what was happening. The voices of the crowd blurred together—hungry, leering, filled with desire and greed. The auctioneer’s booming voice called out the bids as if Akashi were nothing more than a fine vase or a rare jewel.The numbers climbed quickly. Too quickly. Akashi’s knees weakened beneath the weight of invisible eyes drinking him in. He stared at the marble floor, trying not to cry.Then, suddenly, the room fell silent.A voice—deep, commanding, and heartbreakingly beautiful—cut through the air like silk over steel.“Fifteen thousand gold.”Time seemed to pause.Every head turned.At the back of the room, standing beneath the golden chandelier, was a woman unlike any other.She wore a flowing red gown that hugged her form like it was crafted by the gods themselves. Her long, golden hair shimmered like strands of sunlight, cascading over her shoulders with effortless grace. Her eyes, cold and blue as a glacier’s heart, stared ahead with quiet power.Even the nobles drew back. This was no ordinary bidder.It was one of the Princesses of the Three Great Kingdoms.Whispers erupted anew—but no one dared challenge her offer.Who would?She stood like royalty incarnate, a goddess who walked among mortals, and she had just claimed Akashi as her own.The boy raised his head slowly, unsure of whether to feel fear or relief. His eyes met hers—just for a second—and something in his chest shifted. She didn’t smile. She didn’t leer. Her gaze was unreadable.But it was powerful. Absolute.And it made his knees weak for an entirely new reason.He didn’t know her name. Not yet.But she had bought him.And somewhere deep inside, something told him—his life was never going to be the same.

I possessed a third-rate villain who died in every route of my favorite game.

But I want to live.