Villain Origin : Every Crime I Commit Helps Me Level Up-Chapter 15: Unanswered Questions

The ball had ended, and the grand estate settled into its usual stillness. Servants moved about, clearing the remnants of the night, their footsteps light against the polished marble floors. Andre walked through the hallways, his pace unhurried, his mind anything but.

'A direct confrontation won't work, not yet... but I need to see him.'

His father's reading room was dimly lit, a warm glow from the fireplace casting flickering shadows across the mahogany shelves. The scent of aged paper and expensive whiskey lingered in the air.

His father sat comfortably in a leather chair, a book in one hand and a half-empty glass in the other. He didn't seem surprised when Andre stepped in.

"And here I thought you'd be off enjoying the afterparty," his father mused, not looking up.

Andre leaned against the doorframe. "Figured I'd drop by. It's been a while since we had a casual chat."

His father chuckled, setting the book down. "Casual? With you? That would be a first."

Andre smirked, stepping further inside. "You make it sound like I don't appreciate family time."

"You never did." His father swirled his glass, the ice clinking softly. "But go on. I assume you didn't come here just to exchange pleasantries."

Andre shrugged. "Maybe I did."

A quiet moment passed between them. His father watched him carefully, eyes sharp, assessing.

'This old bastard... He never lets his guard down.'

Andre exhaled slowly, letting his shoulders relax. He let the conversation drift into meaningless talk—investments, estate matters, minor details that held no real weight. Then, as naturally as breathing, he activated Echo of Sins.

A silent pulse spread through the air, pressing down, searching.

Nothing.

Not a single flicker of guilt. No resistance. No reaction.

Andre's fingers twitched slightly. '...It didn't work?'

His father continued sipping his whiskey, unaffected. The weight of the ability faded, leaving Andre with nothing but confusion.

[ System Alert: Target is unaffected. ]

'No shit.'

[ Explanation: The ability only works on those who carry guilt. Your father does not regret his actions. ]

Andre's breath slowed.

'...So that's it. He doesn't feel guilty. Not even a shred of remorse.'

It wasn't that his father had done no wrong. It was that he didn't consider it wrong.

His father raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong, Andre?"

Andre met his gaze, expression unreadable. Then, after a moment, he smirked. "Nah. Just thinking how amusing it is that you've barely changed over the years."

His father chuckled. "That makes two of us."

Andre pushed himself off the chair. "I'll leave you to your book, then. Just thought I'd say hi."

His father didn't stop him, simply nodding as he returned to his reading.

As Andre stepped out and closed the door behind him, his smirk faded.

'No reason for Anna to spy on me unless she was ordered to. But if my father didn't care enough to do it... then who was it?'

The only person he had ever seen stand against his father.

His mother.

The next day, it was a beautiful afternoon. The sun shone brightly in a clear blue sky, warming everything it touched with gentle rays. A light breeze stirred the air, creating the perfect atmosphere for what was to come.

Andre parked his car a fair distance from the property, the ocean breeze carrying the salty scent of the waves. The house wasn't as large as the family estate, but it was expensive in its own way—a modern beach house, secluded, elegant.

'So this is where she's been staying all this time.'

A bitter taste settled in his mouth.

'She's been living like this while I was stuck in that goddamn mansion?'

He didn't let the anger show when he knocked on the door.

It took a moment before it opened.

His mother stood there, dressed in a simple yet refined outfit. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise before softening.

"And here I thought you'd never come looking for me," she said quietly.

Andre stepped inside without answering, his eyes scanning the house. It was warm, lived-in. A stark contrast to the cold perfection of his father's home.

His mother closed the door, watching him carefully. "Would you like something to drink?"

"I'm good." He took a seat, exhaling slowly. "I need answers."

She sighed, sitting across from him. "I figured this day would come."

"Why did you leave?" His voice was steady, but his eyes were sharp.

She hesitated, looking away. "Your father... the doctors... they said you needed stability. That staying in a familiar environment would help you recover."

Andre's fingers tapped against his knee. 'Bullshit. That's just an excuse.'

But then, his mother's voice softened. "I regretted not taking you with me every single day."

Something in his chest tightened.

'Damn it...'

He forced his voice to remain steady. "And the real reason?"

Silence stretched between them. His mother's fingers tightened around her lap.

Andre watched her carefully. He could use Echo of Sins. He could force her to talk.

But he didn't want to.

Not on her.

"Tell me," he said, voice lower. "What happened?"

She swallowed, closing her eyes briefly. "Your father... he killed someone."

Andre's gaze didn't waver. "For the sake of the family, right?"

Her head snapped up in shock. "How do you—?"

"Anna told me," he muttered. "And I know there's more."

His mother's hands trembled slightly. "He... he crossed a line, Andre. He offended someone he shouldn't have. And I—I couldn't stay."

"Who?" His voice was sharp now.

Tears welled in her eyes. "I don't know. He never told me the details. Only that he had done something irreversible. That he had made an enemy too powerful."

Andre's jaw clenched. 'She's holding something back... but she really doesn't know everything.'

His mother wiped her tears, exhaling shakily. "I wanted to take you with me, but... I was scared. Your health, your condition—I thought staying would be best for you. But I was wrong."

Andre sat back, his mind running through everything.

A powerful enemy. His father's lack of guilt. His mother's fear.

'This is bigger than I thought.'

He exhaled, standing up.

She looked up, startled. "That's it?"

"For now." His tone was lighter, but his eyes weren't. "I've got some things to take care of."

His mother hesitated before reaching out, gripping his wrist. "Andre... please don't go."

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He met her eyes with an icy stare, his jaw tightening at her touch. "Let go," he said, his voice low and controlled despite the coldness in his gaze.

As Andre walked out of the house and back to his car, the ocean breeze did little to cool the fire burning in his chest.

His father had no regrets.

His mother had no answers.

Which meant he had to find the truth himself.

And he knew exactly where to start.

His father.

This time, there would be no passive conversations. No casual visits. No indirect approaches.

This time, he was demanding answers.

Andre slid into the driver's seat, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he stared ahead. His mind replayed his mother's words.

"Your father... he killed someone."

"He offended someone he shouldn't have."

"I wanted to take you with me, but I was scared."

The pieces were starting to fit, but the picture they painted was still incomplete. And he was done waiting for the truth to come to him.

The engine roared to life, and he shifted gears, turning the car around. The drive back to the estate was silent, his mind sharpening like a blade.

'I don't care what excuse he gives me this time. He's going to talk.'

The family estate loomed in the distance, its towering presence as imposing as ever. Andre pulled up, stepping out with measured steps. His heartbeat was steady, his resolve unshaken.

His father was in his reading room.

Just like before.

But this time, Andre wasn't here for pleasantries.