A Regressed Villain: Heroines, Villainesses and Me?

"So, which hotel should I book?" Aecilia asked, expertly maneuvering the car with one hand while the other rested on the gear shift, continually adjusting it as she accelerated. Her feet were firmly on the gas pedal, her confidence radiating as she pressed forward without even tapping the brakes, her gaze fixed ahead as she inquired.

"Is Miss Aecilia this eager to get proof of my manhood?" Avendial replied, unperturbed by the thrill of the speed. He remained calm, hands folded as he looked straight ahead, appreciating the wide-open highway.

With traffic thin at this time—12:30 PM—the road was largely vacant, a stark contrast to the bustling activity of Sector 18, brilliantly known as an economic hub packed with IT firms and various other businesses.

"Of course," Aecilia responded without a hint of embarrassment, fully aware that he was jesting. She maintained her focus on the road as she deftly handled the car's controls before adding, "It was Prince Orion who slipped you that aphrodisiac last night."

So, she spilled the beans about what she'd found out about the culprit behind last night's situation. While some would say it was just poisoning, she really dug in and thought otherwise. To her, it was obvious he'd been hit with a strong aphrodisiac—and she wanted him to understand that, dropping hints that she knew what was up and that he shouldn't try to keep anything from her.

"I know," Avendial replied candidly, maintaining his focus on the road ahead. His eyes scanned the signboards indicating various facilities such as hospitals, schools, universities, and businesses.

As they drove, he noticed several advertisements for local enterprises, hoping to catch a glimpse of some familiar faces from his past life. However, the number of people around him made this a daunting task.

The faces he remembered were few, and without their current addresses, it would be nearly impossible to find them in the sea of strangers.

For now, all he could do was look around and hope for a stroke of luck.

"Is that why you're preparing an army?" Aecilia asked, her grip tightening on the steering wheel as she shifted gears. Her gaze softened as she cautiously navigated the increasingly crowded highway, adjusting her speed in response to the growing number of vehicles.

"Huh?" Avendial raised an eyebrow, momentarily looking her way. He realized that Aecilia might be confused by the tasks he had assigned to the CEOs of his companies and the recent late-night events. Though he wanted to clarify, a smile formed on his face as he turned his attention back to the windshield.

"Thank you, Miss Aecilia," Avendial expressed his gratitude. Her words sparked an idea in his mind concerning how to manage potential scrutiny from the royal family regarding his mass hiring. It was all thanks to Aecilia's observations.

While it was true that he was gathering numerous individuals, he felt the need to clarify that they were not being assembled for an army.

An army typically consists of individuals trained for combat, possessing various forms of fighting prowess.

The people he was collecting were primarily Awakened, ranging from those with minimal strength to others with considerable power. Whether they would be suitable for military purposes remained uncertain.

"No problem, I guess," Aecilia responded, sensing that she might have misunderstood the situation. As she spoke, her fingers danced absentmindedly along the steering wheel, eventually coming to rest near a line of several vehicles that were slowly inching forward in a gradual traffic jam.

Beeep! Beeep!

She pressed the car horn while glancing outside at Avendial, who rested his chin on his hand, his elbow perched casually on the window. As both assessed the traffic situation, they noticed that the two lanes of vehicles were choked, inching forward at a frustratingly slow pace.

It became evident that something had happened—most likely an accident—because drivers were emerging from their cars, suggesting that something was obstructing their path.

As Avendial observed the scene unfold, he saw several people up ahead turning back, dialing their phones. It dawned on him that there might have been an accident or an injury, as many seemed to be calling for an ambulance—a perfectly natural response in such a situation.

Watching the unfolding drama, he concluded that it was indeed a traffic accident and, thankfully, one that hadn't resulted in fatalities.

The slow movement of traffic implied that the obstruction wasn't permanent; whatever was causing the backup could be shifting or clearing, possibly an injured person lying on the middle footpath between the two main highways.

"Dumbfucks," Aecilia muttered, her irritation brewing as she continued to observe. It frustrated her to see those drivers, rather than using their cars to help the stricken individual, distractedly dialing numbers.

Their anxious expressions suggested that whoever was involved must be alive but in dire need of immediate medical attention.

"Sorry? Did you say something, Miss Aecilia?" Avendial asked calmly, casting a sidelong glance at her. Despite having clearly heard her exclamation, it was his first encounter with a curse from a noble lady.

One might argue he had also picked up such informal language during his time navigating the Tower, conversing with various individuals from the Free Cities.

Yet, in the Kingdom of Thaloris, the teachings he had received were formal and structured.

Noblewomen were educated at high levels but generally lacked the exposure to the kind of language that common women from free cities might use.

In essence, their speech was delicate, sophisticated, and respectful—not at all like the word that had just slipped from Aecilia's lips.

He thought that even women from free cities would not talk like this.

"Ahem, I mean, shouldn't they be helping whoever is in trouble?" Aecilia coughed, feeling a surge of embarrassment wash over her. She realized that her emotions had overtaken her, causing her to utter an inappropriate term that made the situation feel awkward.

If she had been alone in the car, she surely would have attempted to assist whoever was in need. After all, despite the presence of evil in the world, there always exists a glimmer of humanity lingering in some corner.

Even if that spark seemed extinguished in those whom she tried to help, the guns stored in the car would be enough to enlighten their humanity.

"Is that so? Then why didn't you help them?" Avendial replied, folding his hands and directing his gaze forward, closing his eyes as if in quiet contemplation. He offered no sympathy to those strangers, though there was a glimmer of expectation in his demeanor.

After all, fortune may very well smile upon him; perhaps something good will come his way.

And even if not, at least those he rescued just needed to share the same blood type as him.

"You are truly a kind-hearted one, Marquess," Aecilia remarked, her voice steady as one hand gripped the steering wheel. With a deft motion, she pressed the accelerator, breaking free of the lane and veering the car directly onto the footpath. Though it rose a few inches above the asphalt, her skill as a driver allowed them to smoothly execute the maneuver.

VROOOOM!

The car surged onto the footpath, accelerating with a jolt, leaving a billowing trail of dust behind as they rushed forward, cutting through the air with a sense of urgency.