The blue holographic screen shone in Rosette’s face, filled with information. At the right corner of the screen was an illustrative picture of an older-version of Issac standing in front of her. 

Her eyes landed on the words capture target. So it WAS an otome game. This blue panel must be a game screen.

‘But it doesn’t make sense? I’ve never touched any otome game in my previous life?!’

(1/5) means there are 4 more characters like this. She took another look at the illustration on the panel - an ikeman through and through. As expected, the looks of a capture target cannot be underestimated.

Rule #1 of isekai: ALL MCs ARE HIGH SPEC MUNCHKINS, NO EXCEPTIONS.

I mean, it has to be that way ya know. No one wants to simp after an average guy with average look - we have what we call REALITY for that, so at least in an otome game, let’s get ourselves eye candy, yeah?

Also… Twisted, manipulative and sadistic? This small boy in front of me with that blinding innocent smile?

Hey Rosette, how much did you bully this guy that he grew up that way?

Plus he’s out for blood! Look at that section where it goes “heavy thirst for revenge.” That’s a walking death flag in front of you!

“Rosette?” Issac called when Rosette stood wordlessly staring into space from his point of view. Of course, he wasn’t able to see the game screen.

His worried expression and that head tilt combo was deadly cute.

<<Issac used Head Tilt Attack!>>
<<It's super effective!!!>>

Rosette's heart was attacked (no not a cardiac arrest). Being a single child in her previous life, she always wanted younger siblings.

Standard manual for all villainess novels - treat everyone well!

In a situation where you don't know who will kill you and how you'll die, a world where overpowered munchkins could be hidden everywhere, it's obvious you'd need to get rid of all potential dead flags.

“Sorry Issac,” Rosette grinned as she pulled the boy towards the door “Let me show you the garden, it's pretty so you'll like it.”

“Unn~” the boy nodded happily as he followed the girl.

><><><><><><

Issac coldly stared at the girl walking ahead while grabbing his hand gently.

This was not something which he imagined would happen.

Issac grew up with a single mother in a small village. She was a kind and gentle woman who cared very much about Issac. Despite being busy enough working all day, she never forgot to teach Issac how to read and write. She would tuck him in bed, tell bedtime stories and sing him lullaby. 

For his birthday, Issac would receive books which were expensive and unnecessary goods for poor commoners.

When village kids teased Issac about not having a dad, he went to his mother to ask ‘Where’s father?’ but Issac’s mom only gave a sad smile.

“He.… passed away. Isn’t it okay if I love you enough to make up for your father?”

Issac was young but smart. He realised his mother did not like talking about his father, and therefore never said a word about it from then on.

A beautiful and young single mother struggled to support a healthy living with her son, but it was only normal it would be a road full of thorns. Several sleazy men offered money in exchange for sexual favours but Issac’s mother bluntly declined every attempt.

Young Issac knew of such things as well.

In his mind he thought, ‘If only I had money. If only I had power. I could make my mother happy.’

But rough things were rough, situation changed very little. 

One particular day, a rich fat man came knocking on the doors. He entered the house bringing several expensive gifts. 

Issac coldly looked at the man from the corner of the room. His mother ushered him towards the kitchen, away from the man and closed the door behind her. But Issac could still hear the conversation through thin walls of the old and deteriorating 1-bedroom house.

Sounds of arguments ensued, and Issac quickly realised she was being forced yet again.

Slap!

The sound rang out, followed by a low growl of a man’s swear words. A loud slamming of the door echoed and silence poured into the room.

Muffled sobs soon sounded, wrenching the young boy's heart.

“Sorry Issac… do you want to eat dinner now?” his feeble mother’s voice called as she weakly opened the kitchen door with a smile. Issac witnessed bruising on her pale wrists and he gritted his teeth. 

‘So powerless.’

[WARNING: Potential triggering scenes of abuse/violence.]

One evening the following week, when Issac came back from running errands.

It was then he found his mother battered and bruised. Her face was blue and swelling beyond recognition, her nose broken at several places.

Blood leaked from her busted lips, her clothes tattered and dishevelled. Her exposed abdomen had bruises beyond blue - it was turning black. Her legs were twisted in a weird angle, dark blood and semen dripped down her legs and pooled on the floor.

Red. 

Issac’s vision went red.

He dropped the food he held and rushed to his mother sprawled on the ground. Hugging her thin body with shaking hands, his vision blurred as tears threatened to spill.

She was barely breathing.

“Issac…” she coughed, and more blood spilled onto the stained floor.

“MOTHER! Don't speak anymore. You’ll be okay. I’ll go call the doctor. It will be fine. We’ll be fine. Mother-”

“Issac listen to me. I don't have long.” Her hand feebly reached out Issac’s face. “You must live happy... and… grow"

She let out a series of strained coughs. Intaking a sharp heavy breath, she continued. "...strong. My child… Issac...”

“Mother don’t speak like you’re going to die- MOM!”

“I love you, my dear Issac.” She spoke her last words with a kind smile as her hand dropped lifelessly to the floor.

Issac’s world turned black and white since.

‘If only I had money, if only I had power…’

He was dragged into an orphanage. Similarly small and malnourished kids filled his sight but he had no pity for them - his emotions died with his mother.

“You’re such a handsome boy. Girls will be all over you.” Or so he was told by the teacher at the orphanage.

Issac knew he was good looking, he was popular among the village girls too. The same went in the orphanage.

“I heard Billy bullied you again. Here, have this.”
“Issac you can have mine too.”

While boys bullied the small and weak Issac, girls took pity for him and protected him. The aunties running the kitchen would give him extra food after everyone went out to play.

He realised this was convenient. His popularity and handsome face he always assumed troublesome would be something useful after all. 

And he needed to use whatever was in his arsenal to survive.

Then... he slowly learned to make use of people’s emotions. His dead emotionless face started showing facial expressions he didn’t mean.

“Your smile is so captivating, you should’ve smiled more!”
"Did Billy ruin your clothes this time? I'll make sure to scold him. This big sister will buy you better clothes okay?"
"Why are you crying now? Don't cry - I'll give you this book if you smile for me."

Then one day, out of nowhere, news hit him like a brick. 

“Issac, there’s a man at the orphanage entrance saying he’s your father.”