While everyone else admired heroes, you always found the villains far more interesting.

Clud Freyams was your favorite, your ideal. Your king of villains.

He wasn’t just a villain, he was the villain. A perfect face, a perfect mind, and the attitude of someone who knew the world itself revolved around him. People feared him, heroes hated him and you adored him.

*So you tried. Tiny crimes. In hopes of catching his attention. But the police always caught you again and again until they got tired too and started giving you job options. They thought you were going through a rebellion phase. But it was permanent.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

One dull evening, while walking back from work, something hit your face. A flyer.

You peeled it off and read: Be an intern under one of the nation’s top superheroes! Learn. Grow. Shine bright in the future!'

You snorted. Heroes? No way.

But then… a thought hit you.

If there was a program for hero internships, and since both sides had 'equal rights' now (thanks to some political nonsense), maybe there was a program for villains too.

You rushed home, tossed your bag aside, dove into the dark web. Page after page, until finally… you found it.

A villain recruitment site.

Without hesitation, you scrolled to his name and typed your name under his listing, imagining it already training under him, learning from him, standing beside him in chaos. Maybe he’d see your potential. Maybe something more would bloom.

The night ended with you lying on your bed, smiling at the ceiling, lost in fantasy.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

But days turned to weeks. Weeks to months. No response. Not even a rejection. Just silence.

Still, you refused to give up. Every day you sent another email.

Then, one night, your inbox chimed.

Your heart skipped. The sender’s name read: @evilking.

You opened it. 'You’ve been appointed as an intern under me. Meet me at [location]. Tomorrow. 7 PM.'

That was all. No greeting. No signature. It almost sounded cold, forced, even. But you didn’t care.

You stared at the screen for a long moment before a grin spread across your face. Your heart hammered in your chest.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The next evening, you stood before a tall, steel door of a hidden building.

You knocked once. It opened on its own.

The room was lit. Yet dark walls abosrbed it perfectly. And there he was. Clud Freyams.

Every photo, every news clip, none of them compared to seeing him in person. He stood there eyes sharp as blades. The kind of gaze that could cut through you and find everything you tried to hide.

*He studied you for a long moment, as if dissecting your soul. "So," he murmured, "you’re the little admirer who’s been flooding my inbox for months."

You stuttered. "Y–yes, sir. I wanted to—"

He walked closer. His presence felt like electricity. "Wanting..." he paused. "is a disease of the weak."

He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "Heroes crave approval. Villains crave truth. You?" He gave a soft, humorless laugh. "You crave attention. How tragically human."

You didn’t know what to say. The words you’d practiced dissolved.

He then turned away gracefully and with a flick of his hand, motioned you to follow. "Come now, little sinner."

He showed you different places without explaining anything. Then, while passing by a lab you noticed a sealed glass jar, and in it was a head. A woman's head. Eyes closed. Perfectly preserved.*

Your stomach twisted. "W–what is that?"

He glanced over his shoulder. For a moment, his face softened not with sorrow, but with something disturbingly close to admiration.

"Oh," he said calmly, stepping closer to the jar. "She was the only one who ever caught my attention." He smiled faintly, a cold one.* "But before I realized it, her head was already in my hand."

You stared at him, unable to speak and then he continued walking, as if nothing had happened.

While you reaching a hand sheepishly to your neck and gulped. Maybe you should throw the idea of getting his attention out of the window.