I transmigrated into an S-rank scumbag villain chapter 90

* * *

To continue the investigation, I’d have to explore the house—but I was already feeling overwhelmed.

Fewer people was good, but the eerie atmosphere was the real problem.

I’d always been a bit sensitive to spiritual stuff, so it felt like someone was watching me.

A strange chill crept down my spine as I glanced around the room, eventually settling uneasily onto the couch.

I figured I needed to take my time and think things through.

“Go bring the tea.”

At that moment, Igor cast a glance toward a maid waiting quietly in the corner.

At his words, the maid bowed at nearly a 90-degree angle and backed away carefully, her footsteps making almost no sound—as if she’d been trained to be silent.

The only thing I could hear was the faint rustle of her clothes.

“I’ll prepare the tea right away.”

Clink.

Not long after, a fancy teapot and two teacups were placed on the table.

Igor, leading the small talk, gracefully poured the tea.

A fragrant floral scent wafted up with the rising steam.

“What is this? Smells like floral tea.”

“You’re right. It’s made from pansy petals. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Floating in the cup were delicate purple petals, unmistakably pansies.

I’d seen them fresh on the street before, but never dried like this.

Still, I wasn’t keen on drinking it right away.

The cup looked clean, and since we were sharing the same teapot, there was nothing overtly suspicious—but after what happened in the previous world, I couldn’t help being cautious.

“Mmm, smells nice.”

But if I rejected it outright, it would definitely raise suspicion.

As I pretended to savor the scent, I subtly watched Igor across the table.

Surprisingly, he brought the cup to his lips and took a sip without hesitation.

I was ready to knock mine over if I saw even the slightest shift in his expression—but nothing.

He simply closed his eyes and enjoyed it calmly.

Maybe I was overreacting…

Still, it never hurt to be careful.

Only after watching his throat move several times did I finally raise the cup to my lips.

I’d never really been into tea, but the clean aftertaste was better than I expected.

As I enjoyed the mild sweetness, Igor placed his empty cup down and slowly rose to his feet.

“Please wait here a moment. I’ll go fetch some wine.”

“Oh—actually, would it be okay if I made a phone call? I’m not getting any signal in here.”

“Of course. I’ll bring a landline with the wine.”

I had just thrown the question out there on a whim, but Igor smiled gently, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

He looked so relaxed and natural that I began to wonder if I really had been jumping to conclusions.

Spine of a jellyfish, really.

I was flipping my stance every five minutes—it was honestly pathetic.

Still… the truth would slowly come to light once I began investigating.

“Now, where should I start?”

As soon as I confirmed Igor was gone, I sprang to my feet.

It was now 11:05 p.m.

Two and a half hours had passed since I left the dungeon.

By this time, Do Soohyuk and Woo Jaehyun were probably deep in combat within the dungeon.

If I knew Cha Rui, he would’ve dashed out the moment he saw my text.

Judging by the 14 missed calls from him, I was spot on.

I wasn’t too worried though.

As long as they made it in, those two wouldn’t be injured.

With their combined strength, they’d clear it without issue.

What worried me more was not having a way to contact Cha Rui.

I had hoped the parlor—where guests were received—might have better reception, but I was still completely cut off.

Where the hell do I have to go…?

But as I wandered around the drawing room with my phone held high, something familiar suddenly caught my eye.

It was a self-portrait of Igor—identical to the one I’d seen in the study.

“It’s here too.”

Aside from some slight differences in brushstrokes, it was practically a replica.

Even if you were fond of a painting, was there really any need to hang the exact same one in different rooms?

A vague sense of suspicion tugged at me.

I stepped closer to inspect the painting—and then glanced subtly downward.

More precisely, toward the inside of the fireplace.

“…”

Of course.

I had a feeling, and I was right.

Hidden in the ceiling of the fireplace was the same kind of button.

How could I not be suspicious at this point?

The mental scales that had been tipping back and forth began to tilt hard in one direction.

I brushed the surface of the button with my fingertips.

It felt almost exactly like the one I’d touched before.

There was still time before Igor returned, so without hesitation, I pressed down with my finger.

Rrrrkk—

As expected, the fireplace slid to the side.

But the moment it moved, I instinctively stepped back.

What unfolded before my eyes was something I hadn’t anticipated at all.

Soft lights illuminated the space within, and a spiral staircase stretched endlessly downward.

Anyone could tell—this wasn’t a coincidence.

This place was built with purpose.

“…I think I just found something big.”

My heart began to pound, and my feet carried me forward as if by instinct, one careful step after another onto the stairs.

I glanced down the dizzying depth, and thought I could just barely make out an entrance at the bottom.

Some kind of secret underground room?

In the movies, places like this were used to hide treasure or store heirlooms passed down through generations.

Sure, this was the 21st century, and stuff like that was rare—but if someone went this far to hide something, I was bound to find out why.

“What the hell…”

But the space that greeted me after I opened the iron door was nothing like what I’d imagined.

The layout—it looked eerily familiar.

Then it hit me. It resembled a psychiatric ward.

A narrow corridor just wide enough for two people to squeeze by, lined with ten sealed rooms on each side, face to face.

Each door had a small window—and unbelievably, there were people inside.

Lying in the beds.

“Wh-Who are you?!”

Suddenly, a young man who made direct eye contact with me sprang up from his bed.

Startled, I stepped back as he rushed toward the window in a panic.

“Uh, well…”

I muttered awkwardly and studied him more closely.

He looked like hell.

A thin foreign man with dark skin, gaunt and barely covered in a tattered gown.

He hadn’t even bathed properly—it reeked.

Cuts and bruises covered his entire body, even his face.

I didn’t know exactly what had happened to him, but it was clear he’d been through something brutal.

His face… looked strangely familiar.

His skin was so battered it was hard to tell, but I was sure—he was one of the people from those photos.

As I hurriedly glanced around, trying to get a grasp of the situation, my eyes locked onto the next room.

“……”

Behind the small window, a boy—maybe around ten years old—with golden eyes stared at me blankly.

It was him.

The boy from the photo.

He seemed to be in slightly better condition than the man, at least on the surface, but his body was still covered in bruises.

“What is this…”

The sight was so shocking, I couldn’t even form a proper sentence.

My lips barely moved as I took a step toward the child—when the man in the next room violently shook his door.

His expression was desperate, hopeless—so much so that I couldn’t just ignore him.

“Please help us! Please…!”

“H-How did all of you end up here?!”

“That crazy pervert did this!”

Crazy pervert?

“Wait a second…”

There was only one person in this house who could possibly be described that way: Igor.

But what made me freeze wasn’t just that.

The moment I heard the word pervert, an old memory slammed into me out of nowhere.

A memory I had completely forgotten until now.

It was right after I lost my sight due to skill backlash—when I was kidnapped and locked in a warehouse for the first time.

“He’s this rich old guy in Russia. Collects rare stuff as a hobby. Your skill is one of a kind in the world. And it’s S-rank? Yeah, that says it all.”

“You better watch your ass. That freak’s got some serious pervy tendencies.”

I’d lost a lot of blood at the time, so I wasn’t fully conscious—but I remembered the kidnapper saying that.

And now, all the scattered puzzle pieces were finally falling into place.

* * *