Transmigrated into Eroge as the Simp, but I Refuse This Fate

| Victoria [22:12]

| Hello.

She stared at it for a moment, lips pressed tight, chest still, waiting.

The reply came quicker than she expected.

| Damien [22:13]

| Hello?

| …Who are you?

Victoria's thumb froze mid-air.

Victoria stared at the screen, lips slightly parted. A breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding slipped from her chest.

He didn't have her number saved?

That thought shouldn't have stung, and yet—

It did.

If this had been before—back when Damien still circled Celia's world like a shadow orbiting a star—he absolutely would've had her number. He would've looked twice at every message she sent. He would've jumped at the chance to engage.

But now?

He'd fallen out of Celia's favor. He'd changed. And clearly, part of that change included erasing the people who once stood beside her.

Including her.

Still… at least he hadn't blocked her.

Yet.

She exhaled slowly, thumbing the reply with a careful steadiness.

| Victoria [22:14]

| It's Victoria. Langley.

Seconds passed.

Not many.

But enough to sharpen the edges of anticipation.

Then—

| Damien [22:14]

| Victoria?

| Why are you writing to me?

Direct. No emoji. No question mark fluff.

Just a blunt line that cut sharper than it had any right to.

Victoria blinked once.

Her chest tensed in that strange, foreign feeling she hated: awkwardness.

She was the one writing to him.

Her.

Victoria Langley.

And somehow—this was the response?

No one had ever replied to her like this before.

Not classmates. Not nobles. Not even the faculty.

Her grip on the phone tightened.

That curt tone.

That disinterested sharpness.

It grated against her pride like sandpaper against porcelain. For a moment, she genuinely considered deleting the message—blocking him even. A hundred people would beg to be in his place. Her phone buzzed every day with compliments, invitations, proposals wrapped in the prettiest language money could buy. She wasn't used to being the one initiating, much less being received like she was... bothersome.

But Victoria was no stranger to swallowing down indignation when necessary.

She composed herself.

Smoothed the line of her nightgown, straightened her spine where she sat on the edge of her bed, and reminded herself—

This isn't about him. This is about control.

Her pride would recover.

Her position, however, would not—if he actually knew something and chose to speak.

The phone buzzed again.

| Damien [22:15]

| Did you get my number from Celia?

So he figured it out. Fast.

Of course he did.

Victoria breathed in once through her nose. Then exhaled slowly and replied.

| Victoria [22:16]

| Yes.

Simple. Honest. But not yielding.

A few seconds later—

Another buzz.

| Damien [22:16]

| So why did you message me?

| Interested in me now?

| Do you have a crush on me?

Victoria's brows twitched.

Her fingers hovered over the screen before she typed—sharply.

| Victoria [22:17]

| Who has a crush on you, you narcissistic bastard.

And immediately, another message came.

| Damien [22:17]

| Then?

It was infuriating.

The complete lack of hesitation. The confidence dripping through each word—like he was the one holding the leash.

Which… he might be.

That alone kept her temper on a short leash.

Victoria didn't respond immediately this time. She let the silence stretch. Her eyes scanned his last message over and over, replaying every line of his behavior over the last week.

He knew.

Maybe not everything.

But he knew enough to toy with her.

And he was waiting for her to ask.

No. Not yet.

She couldn't give him the satisfaction of watching her squirm.

Not until she understood what kind of game he was playing.

Her fingers moved.

| Victoria [22:19]

| You've been bothering me.

| The looks. The comments. The little murmurs.

| I don't know what game you're playing, Damien, but I don't appreciate it.

She hit send.

The moment she did, her pulse picked up again. Not from fear—but frustration. From the way she was letting him drag this out, knowing full well he held the tempo. This should've been her playing the strings, not… whatever this was.

The screen stayed blank for a few seconds.

Then the reply came.

| Damien [22:20]

| Bothering you?

| What did I do?

Victoria stared at the message, her eyes narrowing slightly.

He was acting innocent.

Feigning confusion like he didn't know exactly what he was doing when he whispered "Watch your boyfriend" by her ear. Like he didn't stare just a second too long in the hallway or sit just a little too close in shared spaces now, like he didn't occasionally smile—that maddening, knowing smirk—when he passed her.

He knew.

And yet here he was, playing dumb.

| Victoria [22:21]

| Don't pretend you don't know.

| You've been acting like you know something.

| Watching me like you're waiting for something.

| So what is it?

The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.

It stayed for a few seconds.

Then stopped.

Then returned again.

Then finally—

| Damien [22:22]

| Oh.

| You're asking if I know.

Her heart gave a traitorous skip.

The three little dots blinked again.

| Damien [22:22]

| Now why would I tell you that?

Her throat tightened.

He didn't deny it.

And he didn't confirm it either.

Which was worse.

| Victoria [22:25]

| If you don't want to tell me, then fine.

| But stop harassing me like this. I'm done playing whatever game this is.

She hit send a little harder than necessary, teeth clenched, heart thudding in frustration.

A beat passed.

Then another.

Then—

The typing bubble appeared again.

| Damien [22:25]

| What are you saying, girl.

| When did I harass you?

| Your imagination's really running wild lately.

Victoria nearly threw her phone.

She could see his smirk through the screen.

Of course he'd twist it around.

| Victoria [22:26]

| You're always looking at me. Smiling. Smirking like you know something. Like you're mocking me.

| Damien [22:26]

| …How do you know that?

| Are you always watching me to see what reaction I give?

| That sounds a lot like a crush to me.

Her fingers froze.

| Victoria [22:26]

| …You bastard.

| Damien [22:26]

| <3

Her eyes blazed.

She launched into a flurry of messages.

| Victoria [22:27]

| Bastard!!

| Arrogant, smug bastard!

| You think this is funny?!

| Keep smiling like that and I swear I'll knock it off your face.

| I don't have a crush on you. You're insufferable.

The typing bubble blinked again—slow, taunting.

Then came the reply:

| Damien [22:27]

| You're adorable when you're angry.

| Should I send you a mirror so you can see yourself fuming in real time?

Victoria let out an audible ugh, dropping her phone on the silk sheets beside her with a sharp exhale.

She hated him.

She hated that she couldn't win this.

And most of all—

She hated that deep in her gut…

She didn't know what he was going to do next.