Chapter 2: Every Gambler’s Wet Dream
"Fuck...! Him? Of all the people I could be? Seriously? I felt bad about him, but that's all. I never said I wanted to be him!" James yelled in frustration.
He stared at the towering Victorian mirror, which looked more like a portal than a mirror, swallowing the dim candlelight in its gilded frame. His reflection stared back—unfamiliar, yet real.
"Johan Von Matilda."
The 'evil' father of the main heroine in The Less I Know, the Better.
His gaze drifted over the reflection's features—sharp and ethereal. Pale skin, almost luminescent under the flickering candlelight.
Long silver hair cascaded to his shoulders, half tied into a flowing bun, the rest spilling like liquid mercury down his back.
But it was the eyes that stole all attention: ocean blue, glowing faintly like the eerie light of a deep-sea jellyfish—cold, yet mesmerizing.
His past self would've killed for this height—tall, broad-shouldered, a physique that screamed Aura.
The clothes only buffed it. He looked like he'd walked straight out of a Genshin Impact convention.
A high-collared black linen shirt clung to his torso—soft, but annoyingly itchy—tucked under a midnight-blue overcoat that flared around his knees, the common dress code of House Matilda.
Black pants hugged his legs, disappearing into knee-high cavalier boots that pinched just enough to remind him of their presence.