I'm A Great Villain So The Author Hates Me

Chapter 49 - Prison (2)

I had a dream, or rather a memory in the form of a dream, about when I was younger when my life was normal. Well as normal as it ever was.

Before the incident that changed the direction of my life, I had been a relatively regular kid, except for being poor and living in an orphanage.

I was athletic, and my brain worked quite well, so my future looked pretty bright, at least to me. Studying hard, working side jobs for money, getting a scholarship, and changing my life. A -> B, B -> C, C-> D. The path was pretty clear, and I originally planned on following through, but life didn't go my way.

That was how life worked right? The person made plans but the universe worked in mysterious ways that could cancel those plans and divert the path you worked hard for.

The private orphanage I lived in was run by a figure simply called the Boss. He didn't handle the day-to-day operations of the orphanage but when anybody reached the age of 14 they were called to meet with him. It was a short 30-minute conversation that would alter the trajectory of your life with the options given to you.

Join the Boss officially and join his organization, i.e. become a member. Or become an affiliate that did small jobs until you were of legal age and were free to go.

Those were the two choices that were offered. Or there was the third option, starve to death and hope that the government system could help you, but in a privately owned orphanage, that was like expecting rain to be diamonds and pigs to fly. Realistically, there was no choice.

After all, nobody cared about children who were abandoned.

Being the rebellious person that I was, in an orphanage where 99.99% chose to join the Boss officially and live a better life than what they had now, I was the little nail that stuck out, choosing to do small side jobs for the Boss instead of joining up fully.

It wasn't because I felt special or had a sense of overinflated importance; I genuinely thought I could escape with my own skills and talent. I was smart, constantly topped the class in everything I did, and was consistently praised by adults everywhere. By all appearances, I was a rags-to-riches story in the making. The proof that hard work paid off.

Looking back now, many years later, it was easy to see that my insistence on choosing my own path was the beginning of my downfall.

In high school, I was friendly to all the teachers and was popular with my classmates. Tall, handsome, smart, and athletic. My only sin was being poor and an orphan, but even that couldn't dissuade me since I was personable and found it very easy to navigate social situations, from faculty to students.

However, among the teachers, there was one I was particularly close to. An old man who taught advanced sciences. Old Man Kev as we liked to call him as nobody knew his real name since he had been teaching longer than most of the teaching staff had been alive.

He was old, had a crotchety temper, and was quick to throw a marker straight at the forehead of anyone who wasn't paying attention; his aim unimpeded despite his thick lenses, humped back, and shaking hands due to his advanced age.

Old Man Kev, despite his harsh words and demeanor, was a softy at heart. He was one of the few who saw through my grand ambition and the persona I put around myself and fully supported me in pursuing a better life than the choices I had around me.

He saw clearer or maybe refused to turn his eyes away from what was happening around him. In other words, he was the only one to pay attention to the orphanage students who became proper delinquents and knew what they were secretly doing along with the faculty of not only our school but multiple schools.