“They say if you wish for something desperately enough, it comes true.”
I clung to that saying with all my might.
I desperately wished not to die like this, to be able to walk outside the hospital on my own two legs, and—more than anything—to meet my favorite character, even just once.
“A ridiculous wish.”
After all, I was a terminally ill patient with a rare disease, and my favorite character was someone who only existed in print.
At least, that’s what I thought.
“…Huh?”
What… is that in front of me?
Hair black as pitch, like shadows layered upon shadows. A face so sculpted and beautiful it looked like it had been carved from marble. Deep eyes that felt like they could see through your soul.
Bright red eyes like drops of blood, a dark shadow under them giving off a decadent, dangerous aura…
“…Like a blade drawn from its sheath.”
That was the impression I got. Like approaching carelessly would slice flesh and draw blood. A dangerous, deadly feeling.
Yet, the man was stunningly beautiful.
So beautiful that even if I were to be cut and bleed, I wouldn’t care.
“Wow. I’ve never seen such a handsome man in my life.”
I never imagined I’d be blessed with such eye candy—even in death. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, danger be damned.
“Y-Young Master…!”
And that gorgeous man—he wasn’t just jaw-droppingly handsome. He reminded me of my favorite character.
Harris Godwin.
The villainous duke from my favorite web novel, “The Terminal Genius’ S-Class Regression Life.” His appearance was just as it had been described.
“Young Master Harris!”
What?
A voice shouted, ringing in my ears. I flinched and stumbled backward.
Then froze.
“W-Wait.”
Did I… walk?
A shaky breath escaped my lips.
I wasn’t struggling to breathe.
“Did my wish come true?”
I thought I had died—but I was breathing, and standing confidently on my own two legs…
Hold on, where was I?
Dark, damp stone walls barely letting any light through. A cold chill made my body tremble.
“A prison?”
Why were my clothes so thin and filthy? Hospital gowns were cleaner than this!
“Oh no…”
That’s when I heard a frightened voice nearby.
To my shock, people in ragged clothing like mine were gathered around. We were in a barred cell—like… slaves?
Slaves…?
Then I noticed the iron bars all around us and the foul metallic stench in the air.
Underground prison.
Slaves.
And Harris?
“What the hell—is this some messed-up dream?”
Naturally, my first reaction was denial. Even as a web novel fanatic, I couldn’t just go, “OMG, I transmigrated!” and accept this.
So I couldn’t believe that Harris was right in front of me—and that I was facing him like a lowly slave.
That’s probably why…
“T-The rampage! It’s starting!”
“Get the slaves out, quick!”
I didn’t notice the tension in the room until it exploded.
“Ugh—!”
Harris hunched over and groaned.
That’s when I noticed the chains and cuffs on his wrists and ankles.
But unlike ours, his cuffs had strange, glowing gems embedded in them.
“Are those magic restraints?”
If so, I knew this moment.
“The early arc… where Harris is locked in a prison and loses control, slaughtering the slaves…”
No way… right?
I desperately tried to deny it, but dark red veins were rising beneath Harris’s pale skin.
“No, no, no—that’s a pre-rampage symptom!”
Transcendents. S-class powered beings… Call them what you like, they were one thing:
Beings to whom a dying world granted godlike powers to ensure its survival.
And with that came immense suffering.
Unfortunately, their suffering didn’t stay theirs alone.
BOOM—!!
A wooden chair near Harris exploded into splinters. Our cell burst open and people were thrown to the floor.
“AAAH!”
“SOMEONE HELP—!”
Screams echoed as terror took over.
“He’s rampaging!”
“It’s starting!”
“Run!”
Some managed to bolt toward the exit…
CLANG—!
A spiked iron gate slammed shut in front of the stairs.
“Get out now! The monster’s going berserk!”
“I told you we should’ve left the slaves and run!”
The people in dark, intact clothes sprinted toward the escape beyond the gate.
“No! Don’t leave us!”
“Let us out!”
“You’re leaving us to die with that monster?!”
We, the ones in rags, clung to the bars and wailed…
“Hah. What does a slave expect?”
They say fear makes people cruel.
“We bought you to be the monster’s feed, not our coworkers.”
“So shut up and die quietly.”
“That’s what we bought you for.”
Maybe afraid they’d get caught in the rampage too, the servants slammed the gate shut.
“E-Eric!”
Of course, there’s always someone who’s too slow.
“Let me out too—!”
“Hans?”
One of the latecomers banged on the bars and cried. One of the servants hesitated for a second—
“AAAAARGH—!!”
A bone-rattling roar shook the prison.
Dark energy lashed out, bending and snapping the iron bars around us.
CLANG—CRASH!!
Shards of metal flew into the stone walls, collapsing them.
Part of the stairs crumbled, and Hans—still not out—plummeted with a scream.
“AAAAAAH—!”
“Help—URGH!”
Debris spilled toward my feet, and screams filled the air.
“This is insane! INSANE!!”
This wasn’t a dream. This was reality.
The daze from my near-death faded instantly under the weight of terror.
I had wished—so desperately—to survive that damned disease, to taste life outside the hospital, to meet my favorite character.
And, unbelievably, that wish had come true.
“But dying the second it comes true? That’s just cruel!”
It’s like some devil gave me a nightmare version of a “dream come true.” Transmigrated into an extra meant to die during the villain’s rampage?
Fear clung to the air like fog, infecting me too.
“Close it! Now!”
CLANG—!
The servants slammed the gate shut, not caring if Hans lived or died.
“Seriously? I’m going to die like this?”
What the hell is this crap?! I froze in fear…
“Ugh… ngh…”
Then I heard a soft moan.
I turned toward the sound—and saw…
Harris?
His face was twisted in pain.
His jaw clenched, and veins popped out along his hand that clawed the floor.
Dark smoke pulsed eerily from his hunched body.
That swirling, black aura…
“He’s… really in pain.”
Maybe it was my experience as a sick person, but I was sensitive to this sort of thing.
Harris looked like he was suffering.
CLANG—CRASH—!!
…Or maybe empathy doesn’t matter when you’re about to die. I flinched at the wreckage exploding around me.
“I’ll die at this rate!”
There was only one way to relieve the unbearable agony of a transcendent:
A Guide.
Unlike transcendents, Guides didn’t have supernatural powers—but they could soothe the pain of those who did.
“Guide! Is there a Guide?!”
Even in this chaos, someone responded helpfully.
“A Guide? In here? Don’t be ridiculous—AAAH!”
“Yeah, as if slaves like us could be that valuable—GAAH!”
…Not helpful at all.
“What do I do?”
Ordinary powered people could be soothed by ordinary Guides.
But Harris? He was a transcendent.
Only one Guide could calm him.
“The protagonist!”
Adrian Turner.
Only he could stop Harris’s rampage.
“In the story, Adrian appears right here…”
Just then, I spotted bright pink hair and shouted—
“ADRIAN—!”
“Huh?”
A stunning beauty with rose-pink hair turned toward me.
I knew. I knew how much the strongest Guide in the world had suffered from ability-users.
I knew he hated them. That he’d risk death rather than expose himself again.
“Even if he’s facing a rampage, he’d rather die than reveal himself.”
That was Adrian’s character.
I knew that—but…
“…Sorry, I’m really sorry!”
That didn’t mean I was going to die like Extra #1 in a villain’s rampage!
“Jade, what are you—UGH?!”
I lunged at Adrian.
A perfect tackle. I crashed into him—and he fell onto Harris.
“Perfect! That should count as contact!”
A Guide’s ability—Guiding—usually required physical contact.
“Okay, it’s a bit forceful, but it counts!”
Adrian was an S-class Guide. Even shallow contact should help a little.
“Ugh…”
Just like I’d hoped, the dark energy around Harris began to fade. His uncontrollable magic calmed—if only temporarily.
“Okay, maybe that was clumsy… but it worked!”
“…Wait, what?!”
Maybe it was because I hadn’t walked in forever, or maybe because I body-slammed someone, but I lost my balance.
I fell over—right on top of Adrian. My whole body ached.
“Ow…”
After slamming into two men, my bones were screaming.
“This pain is so vivid… It’s really not a dream.”
Did I really transmigrate into some throwaway extra?
“I don’t know what’s going on—but at least I didn’t die.”
I really didn’t want to die—again—even in a dream…
I passed out from the pain.
So I didn’t see who I’d landed on—or the expression in Harris’s red eyes as he stared at me.
“…You.”
Nor did I realize that his rampage had suddenly stopped.
“You’re not…”
His voice cracked, but I was already unconscious.
So I didn’t hear the shocked whispers behind me.
“W-What the hell.”
“The rampage stopped?”
“But only a Guide can do that—or else we’d all be dead!”
“T-Then—!”
With the rampage over, people stared at my unconscious body with one conclusion:
“Is that kid… a Guide?!”
And I had no idea how that misunderstanding would ruin my life going forward.
