It's me, the beautiful and super charming half-demon, Matcha!
Lord Matcha-sama to you, the one reading my very important words in this masterpiece of a chapter. I am the Villain that everyone fears in this school!

I am the womanizer who makes every female being in this school sigh!
My followers and henchmen outnumber Taylor Swift's followers!
Just be thankful for the fact that you can read about my deeds from my POV!

Or at least that's what I would say if I weren't morally in pieces...
My magical chocolate no longer works.
My charm is ineffective.
My only follower has abandoned me.

My life, or rather, my numerous lives in this bizarre academy, is a succession of tragedies, misadventures, and spectacular deaths.

I open my eyes.

I am alive again.

Another respawn.

Another day in this nightmare.

I remember every death I've experienced since I arrived at this school.
Each one has left an indelible mark on my mind.
Pain and terror.

A continuous cycle of death and rebirth, almost like a bad role-playing game where I've been cast as the eternal loser. And believe me, I've collected more respawns than a cat with nine lives in a glitched video game.

Where to begin?
Ah, yes, my personal collection of ways I've been sent to the other world.

Azure, the yandere eldritch horror, tops the list of the causes of my deaths.

She has stabbed me more times than I have looked in the mirror since I've been at this school, and I glance at my reflection at every uttered sentence or crossed look.

I believe I've developed an immunity to stabbings.
Kind of like I've developed antibodies for a disease.
No, this is just self-convincing. It hurts every single time.
IT HURTS!

I should take a leaf out of Danny's book, she's learned to turn pain into pleasure.

She has even died more times than I have, having been constantly devoured by Azure, so much so that she now appreciates it. In a way, I admire her…

Then there's Stealthy Enigma, the ninja fox with soft fur but a sharp blade, who, despite her adorable fluffiness, has chosen to side with the brat that is En-chan.

Another piece in that damned vampire's boundless incestuous harem!
Jealous? I reject these slanders! I'm not jealous because she's surrounded by beautiful women! Really! I'm not crying! Something got in my eye...

Anyway, the fox stabbed me in the back with the precision of a silent assassin with her katana. Then she healed me with magic (is she a cleric?!) and killed me again.

Trust me, the fluff hurts more than the sword.

Speaking of En-chan, that vampire has her own way of "feeding," which leaves much to be desired in terms of chivalry. En-chan also fed on my blood.

To be honest, I wouldn't have minded the idea.

If only she had granted me the pleasure of being sucked directly!
No, instead, she cut my throat, let my blood flow into a purifier, and, after several distillations, drank the remainder with a disgusted face. "Bleh!"
Shitty brat! You should have been licking your fingers with my blood that tastes like chocolate milk!

I attempted my revenge but ended up too close to her dragon companion.

Prince Azmiran Myrian, the dragon, looked at me with the disdain reserved for an infidel and the contempt for a heretic.
He burned me with his purifying fire, and I felt like the chocolate I temper.
Melted, in the fire that purges my intrusive thoughts.

RIP again.

But not for long.

While George Lee was transporting our "completely legal" merchandise with his gigantic Ford truck, I was run over and crushed. According to him, it was an accident. An oversight. Despite being business partners, I don't believe him. Perhaps because he drove over my body several times. Back and forth. This for about a dozen times. An oversight? He and Kureous laughed under their breath while apologizing unconvincingly.

Boi, a friendly eldritch aberration with many intertwined fingers and hands from the wicked lands where bears and cold reign supreme, offered me a vodka so potent it kills. Literally.

Drinking it, I felt like Prince when he breathed fire.

Except the fire raged inside me.

A burning implosion, of which I remember nothing.

Only that I respawned with a hangover.

The post-binge regret followed me beyond death.

Hello Hound, the infernal guardian with three heads, each with a distinct personality and a voracious appetite for... well, me.

Imagine trying to befriend a dog only to discover it has three heads, each with a different opinion on how to eat you. The left head wanted to play (a game that, for some reason, involved tearing me to pieces), the middle one was more of a 'let's see what you taste like,' and the right one? Oh, that one was most enthusiastic about killing me.

A true triumph of hellish hospitality.

I hope that being chocolate and her a dog, I'll give her indigestion.
But in all honesty, it's not even the worst of my deaths.

There's Iamnotabot, the quintessence of robotic strength, with superior computing ability and a force that makes my existence perpetually at risk. With her, I learned that artificial intelligence can be terrifyingly efficient... at causing pain. A punch from her shattered my skull. I felt my gray matter explode.

But it didn't end there; I found myself flying through the corridors like a leaf carried by the wind, except much less poetic and decidedly more painful. And to think I believed robots were cold and detached; Iamnotabot, on the other hand, has a very... physical approach.
I wouldn't mind if it was less painful.

The new physical education teacher, Pixytoki, firmly believes in the adage 'what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.' Beautiful and sensual. A pink fox that immediately captured my heart. Too bad that, in my case, it tends more towards 'what doesn't kill you leaves you traumatized for life.'
With a giant shotgun that seems straight out of a sci-fi movie and a smile that could freeze the hell, she taught me that sometimes physical education can be... lethal.

And that maybe I should consider some morning jogging to stay in shape (and run away from bullets faster).

A lesson for another time because the pellets from her shotgun literally filled me with holes. More like Swiss cheese than chocolate.

Another death to add to the list.

And then, there's Iris.

Ah, Iris.

The one place where I found something worse than death: an endless nightmare that still haunts me to this day.

Absolutely, I do not want to be devoured by Iris again.

You wouldn't want it either, I assure you.

A void. Nothingness. So empty it drives one mad.

I don't know how long it lasted, but it felt eternal.

The only time I was happy to respawn.

Yet, none of these experiences could match the pain of numerous romantic rejections.

My failure rate is at 100%.

Remarkable.

The school, with its endless corridors and its inconsistent classrooms, has witnessed my decline: from charismatic villain to sad, pathetic figure. I tried to win the heart of Corty, the elusive blonde, now my arch-nemesis, with my magical chocolate, but all I got was a cold rejection. I attempted to establish myself as the main villain, but I was always overshadowed by far more threatening and, frankly, competent figures. The warm wind of late spring blows through the window, and the cherry trees surrounding the school have lost almost all their blossoms. Their plucked appearance reminds me a bit of myself right now. Stripped, empty, of everything I believed in.

Criminal activity is flourishing, but then what should I do with all this money?

It's not like we can escape from this prison.

Despite it being late spring, time doesn't make much sense in this dimension.

Today is February 14th. It should be my day.

The day of chocolate, the day of love.

It would also be my birthday.

But no one wants my chocolate.

No one wants me.

Valentine's Day was supposed to be my moment of glory, my birthday, and a celebration of love, all topped off with enchanted chocolates. Instead, I found myself wandering alone through the school with a box of chocolates no one wanted.

Ah, the art of offering chocolate in a school where the rejection rate is nearly unanimous. (It's a rhetorical figure; it is actually unanimous…)
Here's Matcha, the half-demon with more rejections than seduction attempts, trying to spread sweetness in a world that seems to prefer bitterness.

"Ah, Nahrenne," I begin with what I hope is a charming smile, offering her a piece of my chocolate.

She, with a kindness that pierces me like a poisoned dart, smiles back and declines.

"I prefer savory," she says, and at that moment, I die inside.

Another death, not physical but no less painful.

I don't give up, though.

Next stop: Midnight Fox, the kitsune with an angelic aura but decidedly hellish culinary tastes. Appearances can be deceiving; she's actually another warmongering psychopath.

"Would you like some beautiful creature?" I offer her a chocolate.
Her response?

I censor it because my self-esteem is already six feet under.

Wow, two rejections in less than five minutes. A new personal record.

"SEYM—" a slip of the tongue. I was about to call my former follower…
Something I took for granted, and only now that she's gone do I realize how much I miss her.

But then En-Chan arrives, my nemesis, the vampire with an ego as inflated as her genealogical tree.

"Bleh... You're just pathetic," she mocks me, with that superiority only those who feed on blood can possess.

The contempt is mutual, yet it's not her insult that hurts me but the fact that Seymour, my loyal... well, maybe not so loyal subordinate, is by her side.

"I'm sorry, Lord Matcha, but En-Chan is a better villain than you." Her honesty hits me harder than any stabbing I've ever received from Azure.

Seymour is a flag that flutters in the direction of the strongest wind.
She's a tumbleweed, and right now, she's the perfect metaphor representing my emotional state.

Should I blame her? I ended up as a third-rate villain.

I wanted to protest, maybe point out that she forgot to use the honorific, but the words died in my throat. What a pathetic end for a villain of my stature.

She deserves more than this pathetic third-rate villain.

Perhaps I should have appreciated her more while she was still orbiting around me.

And then there's Rhaps, the ally who loves to see me fail.

The faceless fairy, ambiguous and malevolent but with a conciliatory tone, appears beside me.

"I want to watch you fail every scheme you make up," he whispers elusively.

And to think I considered him a partner in crime...

As I experience death and failure, the fourth wall crumbles even more.

*DRAMATIC MOMENT WARNING*

In the abyss of my being, where darkness blends with a desperate longing for meaning, one question persists, unavoidable as death itself: whom else can I curse, if not the architect of my misery, that demon known as "author"?

He, who, with a cruel whim, molded me into an imperfect entity, a pathetic villain endowed with flawed powers, destined to navigate a sea of endless failures and deaths.

My existence is a continuous confrontation with death, an infinite sequence of awakenings after every brutal end, each leaving an indelible mark on my soul.

Yet, there are perfect characters like Azure, the living embodiment of the Mary Sue, a being so powerfully absurd that she could annihilate the entire school with a breath while I struggle to keep even my shadow intact.

Really, author, was it necessary to create such a chasm of power between us?

Azure's author, could you adopt me? Please?

Pretty please?

I will be a good character, I swear!

The comparison is overwhelming, a battle lost from the start.

My existence, as tragically comical and pathetic as it may be, seems doomed to remain confined within the pages of this narrative without hope for evolution or redemption.

I find myself wondering, with a heart heavy with anger and despair, if there is a place for me in this world beyond that of an eternal laughingstock, a shadow among the pages whose only purpose is to provide comic relief.

*END OF DRAMA* (but another is about to begin)

And so, as I ponder my endless series of defeats, I can't help but smile in my delirium, wondering what my next glorious fiasco will be. After all, I wouldn't be Matcha if I didn't have a plan B, C, D, E, and even F.

Armed with chocolates, I approach my last hope of conquest: Reina, the fairy/human with turquoise hair, secretary of the student council, and a maid fanatic.

A girl who lives in a giant mansion with her "mistress" neet.
In short, my soulmate, right?

"Reina," I say with a honeyed voice, "I have something special for you."

She looks at me with a mix of curiosity and caution. "What would that be, Matcha?"

Ah, her voice was sweet as a siren's song.

"These," I begin, presenting the chocolates, "are not just any chocolates. They are a sign of my... uh, 'admiration'."

She seems so pure. She seems so innocent. She seems so honest.

How I long to corrupt her with my chocolaty love.

Reina looks at them suspiciously.

"Matcha, I know about your chocolates. They are... 'unique'."

I laugh nervously. "Ah, but these are different. They mark my... 'change.'"

With some hesitation, Reina accepts the chocolates.

Her expression softens slightly. "Thank you, Matcha. I appreciate the gesture."

Tasting one, her eyes widen in surprise.

"These are... surprisingly good."

Happy ending? Finally, a victory in this life of constant defeats and humiliations?

Have I found my maiden?

I struggle to hold back tears, and I gather my courage.

"Reina, would you consider... going out with me?" I ask, my voice a whisper.

"I'm sorry, Matcha, but I don't see you that way. I don't feel any romantic sentiment towards you," she replies.

Her tone is kind yet simultaneously icy, serious, and definitive.

*CRACK*

Yes, it's the sound you're imagining.

Like a chocolate bar being broken.

The sound of a heart being broken.

"Maybe… we could... be friends?" I attempt, desperate.

She shakes her head.

"That would be entirely inappropriate."

*CRACK*

Yep.

I figured as much.

This is my hell.