I CHOSE to be a VILLAIN, not a THIRD-RATE EXTRA!!-Chapter 41: Heads

As Ashok stepped inside the spatial tear, he immediately noticed something unusual. His feet sank into the surface, but it wasn’t like any ground he’d ever felt before. It was as if he were standing on a cloud-soft, weightless, and impossibly smooth.

His senses were momentarily thrown off, as there was no solid earth beneath him, no resistance from the usual floor.

Ashok gazed down to see that he was standing on a translucent, bubble-like mat that seemed to undulate beneath his feet. The texture absorbed the entire weight of his step without any resistance, gently cradling him like a cushion, but somehow, it didn’t made him lose his balance.

Ashok marveled at the sensation, feeling the mat’s subtle movements with each shift of his weight. It wasn’t just a surface—it felt as though his entire foot was being massaged, the pressure points of his feet relaxed by a perfect touch, even through his shoes.

Ashok’s eyes subtly shifted around the room, carefully scanning his surroundings without making any obvious movements, ensuring that the two behind him wouldn’t catch a hint of vulnerability. He kept his posture steady, his face an impassive mask.

The room itself was an unexpected contrast to the grandeur of the mansion’s exterior. Despite the cold, metallic exterior plated in gold, the interior felt almost rustic—like a wooden cabin nestled deep in the heart of a cold, remote mountain forest. The walls were adorned with dark, rich wood, giving off a natural, earthy feel, yet the sheer size of the room defied its humble appearance.

There was an almost serene calmness to the space, the kind you’d expect from a secluded mountain retreat, far away from the hustle of the outside world. Despite the contrasting aesthetics, the space seemed to exude its own kind of wealth.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ashok noticed the crackling warmth of a fireplace, its flames dancing in the dim light. But what truly caught his attention were the various animal heads mounted along the walls—each one more menacing than the last. Yet, it was the largest, most formidable-looking head that drew his focus.

The dragon’s head was a grotesque yet awe-inspiring sight. Its serpent-like features were unmistakable, with a sleek, sinuous neck and an almost otherworldly appearance.

The mouth was open in a silent snarl, displaying rows of razor-sharp teeth that could tear through flesh with ease. Its eyes—two glowing yellow orbs—were fixed in an eternal glare, their serpent-like slits narrow with an eerie, predatory intent. The tongue, deep blue and impossibly long, curled out from the mouth, adding to the menacing look. The scales that covered its face were a mix of green and red, shimmering with an unnatural iridescence, giving it a fierce, elemental beauty that spoke of immense power.

’A Hydra. Looks really different in real life.’ Ashok thought to himself, his gaze still fixed on the dragon’s head. ’This must be the one that Baldy killed. The Duke must have bought it from the marketplace in recent years, considering he wasn’t in the Duke’s position at the time that Baldy killed this one.’

Ashok slowly turned his head, taking in the full scope of the room. The countless animal heads lining the walls were still a stark, unsettling sight, but his attention drifted away from them, moving over the various artifacts scattered throughout the space.

At the center of it all, there were two large sofas placed opposite each other. The one closest to Ashok contained a middle-aged man with striking blue hair.

’Duke,’ Ashok thought, his eyes flickering in recognition to the blue-haired man sitting at the center of the room. Ashok’s gaze then shifted to the two powerhouses standing silently behind him.

The Head Butler and the Sword Saint—two of the most formidable figures in the Southern Duchy—were just standing there, their eyes locked on Ashok. They were unmoving, their postures impeccable, their expressions unreadable. Neither of them spoke, nor made any motion to acknowledge Ashok in any way.

’Starting right off the bat with Intimidation. Normally, anyone would lose their composure when seeing all these heads around for the first time. The sheer scale of it all—like a grim reminder of death, trophies of power.

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In the game, staying in a room like this with a Mind Stat below C Rank would trigger a fear debuff that only grew stronger the longer you stayed. And then there’s the silence from the Duke and these two SSS+ Rankers, which makes everything feel even more suffocating.

Even the main characters would feel the pressure in this kind of situation. But with the blessing backing me, I don’t feel any fear and everything is already within my prediction. The advantage in this room is mine, not theirs.

They must be communicating among themselves right now, trying to figure out how a mere F Ranker could have written the note, how he could have orchestrated such a bold move. They’re waiting for a slip-up, an opening, something that will give them an edge over me.

These fools really think I’ll falter under this pressure after I sent the note in the hands of the Sword Saint.

Well, let’s not give them the chance to think further.’

Ashok calmly walked over to the empty sofa opposite the Duke, he then sat down with effortless grace, as if the room itself yielded to him. Without a hint of hesitation, he crossed his right leg over his left, settling deeper into the plush cushions. His hands remained inside his pockets, his posture looked relaxed yet undeniably commanding.

’Ahhhhhh! Shoooo Softtttt.’ The luxurious fabric of the sofa seemed to cradle his body, and for a moment, Ashok felt as if he were sinking into it, his muscles unwinding in the comfort, he nearly forgot the place he was currently in . The Duke’s voice pulled Ashok back into the present moment, sharply cutting through the fleeting comfort he had almost allowed himself to indulge in.

"Did I ask you to sit?" the Duke’s voice rang out, his eyes still cast downward, never lifting to meet Ashok’s gaze.

Ashok’s gaze shifted to the Duke’s face, now fully taking in the details he had previously ignored in the midst of his comfort.

The Duke’s hair flowed like a cascade of pastel blue, reminiscent of a tranquil sky at dawn, soft but with an undeniable elegance. His face was sharp, unmarred by wrinkles, a mark of his youthful appearance despite his age. A short-trimmed beard framed his chin. His golden eyes, however, were locked on the note Ashok had written, an intensity in them that could not be mistaken.

The Duke wore a navy blue tuxedo that only further accentuated his refined presence.

Everything about the attire was perfect except the leg rest, his feet were resting upon.

The duke used two heads as his leg rest.

Two Human Heads.