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Chapter 17 - Amnesia

Fizsure felt a strange connection with Daseos, perhaps it's because they were both grassroots aspiring Villains without the backing of powerful and wealthy Villain clans.

And though he wouldn't admit it, they were equally… 

Shameless.

*Riiing…* *Riiing…* *Riiing…*

The unexpected chime cut through their conversation. 

Daseos's fingers darted to his pocket, retrieving the buzzing device. 

The screen flashed: 

[ Sly Bastard Calling… ]

He glanced between the screen and the two beside him, mischief playing in his eyes. 

"Sorry gents, but this? I really gotta take this. Catch you later!" 

Without waiting for a response, he strode away as he answered the call, leaving a trail of his vibrant energy in his wake.

Fiszure blinked, flabbergasted. 

His usually composed face twisted into a mixture of bewilderment and mild indignation. 

He couldn't believe it. 

Walking away from THE Fiszure, their admirable senior?

It was almost unfathomable

A sigh of defeat escaped him as he pinched the bridge of his nose, preparing to turn around. 

However, what met him was an oversized, overly enthusiastic grin that seemed to dominate Devian's face, leaning in a little too close for comfort. 

Fiszure couldn't help but stumble back a step, the sight both startling and oddly hilarious.

Regaining his balance, Fiszure couldn't contain the laugh that bubbled up from his throat. 

The situation, coupled with Devian's enthusiasm, seemed to wash away the earlier irritation. 

His laughter was a contagious force, pulling a joyous rumble from Devian as well.

Devian, with that same playful, expectant expression, rubbed his palms together as he leaned closer, nearly dancing with anticipation. 

"So, Fiszure, about Saturday…"

Fiszure shook his head, his laughter subsiding but a warm smile remained, appreciating Devian's straightforward and light-hearted nature. 

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small notepad and a pen. 

Scribbling down a series of numbers, he tore off the sheet and handed it over.

"Here, take my number. Text me when you guys get there. This Saturday is going to be epic!" 

Fiszure winked, his voice carrying a playful, teasing note that matched Devian's bubbling excitement.

==========

"Young Master Daseos? Did I call at the right time? I waited till after your school hours…"

Alucard's voice echoed out Daseos's phone as he walked home.

"Hah! Alucard, seems like you've been busy these two days…"

"Young Master Daseos, I've spared no expense at marketing this fight! It's the talk of the town! Our tickets sold out on the first day!"

"And my terms…?"

"Would I set up the fight if I haven't settled it? Come over to the Fight Club the afternoon of the fight and get the contract signed, remember…" 

Alucard paused for a moment before emphasizing his last words, 

"Dress for the occasion… "

*Beep…* *Beep…*

With a smirk that hinted at the simmering excitement beneath, Daseos pocketed his phone, the twinkle in his eye revealing the depth of his anticipation. 

'Things are finally getting interesting…'

Soon enough, the familiar sounds of the L.U.S.T Inn's doorbell greeted his ears.

*DING-A-LING~* *DING-A-LING~*

With the slight push of the door, Daseos was met with a playful face. 

Faye, standing right by the entrance, looked up at him with her light purple short hair bouncing and her cute horns giving her an impish look. 

Her lips curled into a mischievous smile.

"Welcome back, Big brother~ kekeke…"

Daseos's stride faltered for a second. The surprise evident on his face quickly morphed into suspicion. 

He raised a brow, cautious, 

"What do you want, Faye?"

He internally noted,

'The only times this little girl called me big brother… she wanted something'

Before Faye could spill her plans or make a request, her face paled, and a surprised yelp burst from her lips, 

"Ahhh!"

Daseos, alerted, spun around only to let out a startled yelp of his own. 

Emerging from the dimly lit corner was a pale girl with what looked like black gothic eye makeup, her long, raven-black hair cascading like a waterfall past her hips, partially covering her face. 

She had the eerie appearance of a ghost straight out of a horror movie, and her deep, blank eyes seemed to be devoid of any emotion.

"Das… I… Hungry," 

Her voice was eerie, echoing softly around the room, with a resonance that sent shivers down the spine.

Pushing down the wave of discomfort, Daseos inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling. 

He tried to mask his irritation, albeit unsuccessfully. 

"Am! How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that?"

Rubbing his chest exaggeratedly, he added with a blend of frustration and relief coloring his words, 

"You nearly scared the life out of me. My heart almost jumped outta my chest!"

Am, as those who knew her called her, was actually short for Amnesia. 

Now, if you're sitting there and wondering if that's hinting at her powers or if Antagonian names were just peculiar that way, let me set you straight.

Let's just rewind the tape a bit, shall we?

[ 10 Years Ago ]

The door to the L.U.S.T Inn creaked open. It was a day like any other, but a mere second later, everything changed. 

The bustling atmosphere of the inn dimmed, and the patrons' chatter fell silent as a figure, delicate as mist, made its way inside. 

Daseos, all of six years, sat by the bar, his tiny legs swinging back and forth. 

His curious eyes were the first to lock onto the strange apparition.

She looked ethereal, like a ghost out of old tales. 

Her steps were so silent, it was as if she floated. 

Her face, that pale visage, held no trace of emotion—just a blank canvas. 

The hushed conversations soon morphed into worried whispers as the residents tried to fathom who she was.

It was Madame Allura, with her keen instincts and big heart, who approached the silent intruder. 

The name 'Amnesia' wasn't just a whimsical choice. 

When Allura first questioned her, it became clear. 

The young girl had forgotten—everything. 

Not just her name or where she came from, but the fundamental things too. 

She seemed to have forgotten the language, forgotten what it means to feel, forgotten what it meant to be an Antagonian.

Allura's heart ached at the sight. 

Maybe it was maternal instinct, or perhaps she just couldn't turn a blind eye to someone in need. 

She took the girl, Amnesia, under her wing, offering her a home at the L.U.S.T Inn.

And just like that, on an ordinary day, a ghost-like girl became part of their unconventional family.