I Will Create a Good Ending for the Yandere Villainess

Chapter 663: Trying to Exploit Trauma?

A dense fog spilt out from the dark portal, reaching the corners of the room.

The temperature inside the room dropped several degrees, even affecting Marionette, who had quickly deployed a dark barrier between her and the fog. Eventually, the fog stopped expanding and instead decided to converge near the Bloodhounds in the shape of a human.

“Ah~… travel is always so much easier when you have someone specialised in it.” The Cultist Priest stated, stepping out of the fog. He then turned to Bloodhound #3 and said, “I must thank you for assisting me. Without you, travel would be much more tedious.”

Bloodhound #3 cradled the [Four-Horned Demonic Centipede], who cried in his arms. He had a furious look on his face as he inspected the area where its mandible was snapped off.

“Because of your request, my partner was injured. How do you plan to compensate us for this?”

“Your pet still has six of its lives left—”

“It has already lost one!”

“Is that so? No wonder I needed to tag along with one of you to get here…” The Cultist Priest rolled his eyes, “After we achieve our goal and collect enough data, you and that young master of yours will be taken care of by the Cult of Jesters.”

Turning towards Marionette, who had taken a cautious step back, the masked man raised his arms in a welcoming manner.

“Marionette Von Roselle, it’s truly an honour to meet you! I’ve done quite a bit of research into your background, and I must say, you have quite the history~…”

Marionette narrowed her eyes, “How much do you know?”

“Well, let’s see then… You’re nineteen years old. You started working as an assassin when you were ten, under the tutelage of your family. You are currently a student at Louis Mana Academy. You also have a rather loving girlfriend, and I’ll have you know that last part left me rather stunned, considering you appeared more or less asexual in the past. And lastly, you’re the next heir to the infamous Roselle family, despite the fact that the title should’ve rightfully belonged to your uncle, the Gardener of Roses.”

Unfazed by the information listed, Marionette snorted, unimpressed. “Those are surface-level pieces of information that we don’t bother hiding.”

“Oh~ I apologise if the last child of the Plastic Rose Project is unimpressed with my skills~…”

Marionette’s gaze turned intense; her arms—which were raised defensively—lowered. She then asked in a visibly shaken tone, “That information should be safely secured… not even traces of that project could be found anywhere online… how did you find out about it?”

The Cultist Priest smiled playfully under his mask, “Does it matter how we know~? Shouldn’t you care more about the horrible things you had to go through just because your family wanted to produce the next strongest generation?”

“… The project allowed me to become stronger and get accepted into the family.” Marionette muttered.

“But to go through all that horror and suffering!” The Cutlist Priest took an emotional step forward, “You had to watch those around you become discarded, because they weren’t strong enough to survive. What began as many eventually trickled down to one survivor. Don’t you loathe your so-called family? Don’t you detest the blood that runs through your veins?!”

The Cultist Priest walked over to Marionette, who had gone silent, and stood over her; his voice filled with empathy and pity, “You’ve been through so much… To experience all that at the age of eight years old… You deserved better as a child, free from the influence of noble scum.”

Watching as she continued to remain silent, he sighed.

“Marionette Von Roselle, what are your thoughts on coming to a deal? Join the Cult of Jesters. If you join and contribute well, the higher-ups will be willing to grant you whatever you want in the new world we’re going to create.”

“Whatever I want?” Marionette quietly repeated, “Like what?”

“Anything you can possibly desire!” The Cultist Priest enthusiastically exclaimed, “Power, a peaceful life, a large portion of territory, revenge on your family, even all of the above with the added bonus of spending the rest of eternity with your dear lover~… Doesn’t that last part sound nice?”

He pushed out a hand for her to take.

“What’ll your answer be? Tempting offer is it not?”

“… You gave told you about the Plastic Rose Project?”

“Still on that?” The Cultist Priest sighed, predicting that Marionette wouldn’t give an answer unless satisfied, “We hired an informant inside your family; one that you’re familiar with. I won’t give their name, but when you join, I’ll be more than happy to tell you.”

“I see…”

Marionette lifted her gaze to meet the man’s mask. With a deadly glint in her eyes, she slashed at the Cultist Priest with a blade moulded from darkness—imbued with True Darkness.

Thud.

Her blade was silent and dangerously sharp, having sliced through the man in a single strike without a single drop of blood; courtesy of the True Darkness’s erasure.

Marionette snorted as she watched the man collapse to the ground.

“You must be insane if you think I would work with a cult—after I get out of this place, I’ll be sure to uproot the traitorous weasel and make an example out of them.”

“Kuhuhuhu…” A sinister chuckle echoed from the bisected cultist, whose body began to break down into fog, “I expected too much from you.”

The assassin watched as the fog spread across the room again, ‘So that was just a clone…’

“It’s a bit saddening, but I’ll have to cut our conversation short. Right now, one of your pals has almost killed one of our test subjects. I’ll leave you in the hands of these guys for now, until I come back.”

Afterwards, the fog vanished, leaving only Marionette and the Bloodhounds alone in one large metal room.

One out of the six spoke:

“It would be a good idea to accept his offer. I don’t think he would be too pleased if you keep rejecting him.”

“Hmph. Is that what Damien told you all after he forced you into a Blood Binding?” Marionette sneered.

The Bloodhound frowned behind his mask.

“I suggest you think against antagonising us—”

“There’s no point trying to convince her with words.” The man, who was cradling the Four-Horned Demonic Centipede, stated coldly. “Let’s just force her into submission.”

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed a throwing knife in Marionette’s direction.

“Tch.” The assassin clicked her tongue before calmly stepping to the side, dodging the throwing knife, before having to clash with the Bloodhound that attacked her.