When the intense psychological shock and fear tore through my insides, accompanied by confusion and incomprehension, I was driven all too easily into a state of panic.
“No, ha, what the hell...”
My broken, stammering voice echoed hollowly, as if laying bare my drifting state of mind.
When I looked around, everything was unfamiliar.
A room I had never seen before.
Furniture I had never seen before.
Scattered liquor bottles and cigarettes.
An alien sort of luxury.
“......”
In the middle of that pointlessly spacious and lavish room, I wiped away cold sweat and tried desperately to pull my fear-swallowed mind together, but it was not easy.
No matter how much I looked, I could not figure out where this place was.
Even the air felt strangely foreign, and a sixth sense I had never felt in my life had taken up a corner of my mind, feeding my anxiety and impatience.
And after I discovered the abnormalities in my body, I could no longer keep my head straight.
“Who is this?”
A mirror entered my field of vision.
The stranger reflected inside it... had his face turned deathly pale and his expression stiffened, as if representing my current state of mind.
Strangely, astonishingly, that man moved in exactly the same way I did.
When I moved my arm, the man in the mirror moved his arm; when I opened my mouth, the man in the mirror opened his mouth.
“Ha... hahaha...”
The unfamiliar calls forth an unfamiliar fear.
But this was a little too much.
It was not even a simple, one-dimensional fear that startled you and ended there. It was a fear that grew richer the more time passed, the more I chewed on it.
The alien fear that something capable of doing as it pleased with my very existence truly existed.
The fear that even at this very moment, that something might be watching me, contemplating how to handle me.
The fear that the life I had worked so hard to live had been denied in a single instant.
“Hah, hah... urgh...”
My mind, pushed to its limit, soon affected my body as well, bringing on severe dizziness and tinnitus, an abnormal heartbeat, cold sweat, tremors in my extremities, difficulty breathing, and more... and before long, I lost consciousness.
***
No matter how much I denied it, no matter how terrified I became, no matter how many times I fainted, reality did not change.
An unfamiliar place, unfamiliar air... and even an unfamiliar body and unfamiliar senses.
As I sat huddled in the corner of the room, blank in mind and limp in body, observing all of it, I suddenly realized something.
The scenery around me was somehow familiar.
And my changed appearance, too, felt like something I had seen somewhere before.
“...Ah, so that’s what it was.”
I had been possessed.
Just like a common setup in a web novel.
This was inside a game that had transformed into reality, and I had become a character within that game.
“Ha... fuck. This is ridiculous...”
Gulp.
I swallowed a mouthful of the strong liquor in my hand and let out a hollow laugh.
Why me, of all people?
I had not sent some long message to the developers or a GM, nor had I used a glitch or bug for some special playthrough, nor was I an exceptionally skilled ranker.
I was simply an ordinary user who had played a game called “Origin World” for quite a long time, and enjoyed it.
“Why the hell... why did it have to be me...?”
Origin World was the only game I had dug deeply into and never let go of for years.
Excellent gameplay, powerful action, a solid world, detailed and meticulous settings, an interesting story... and even dating sim elements on top of that.
With all of those things, “Origin World” was a game that felt as if it had been made to strike my tastes directly.
That was why I did not simply enjoy the game; I collected merchandise, read the short story collections that were released, and devoured all fifteen volumes of the setting books, each over three thousand pages long, without leaving anything out.
I had been so immersed in that game that I had read and remembered every kind of front-end and back-end setting, side stories unrelated to the main plot, even the contents of discarded scenarios, with interest.
“Could it be because of that...?”
I thought for a moment, then shook my head.
Origin World was a fairly popular game, so there were countless veterans who had dug even deeper underground than I had.
There were probably people who knew settings and stories even I did not know, so there was no reason at all to leave them alone and drag me here instead.
“Haa...”
I felt wronged, irritated, and angry, but it did not seem like reality would change no matter what complaints I poured out.
So, fine. Acknowledging and accepting the change in my situation was still possible. It made my blood boil, but I could do it.
The real problem came after that.
“What... exactly is the state of ‘me’ right now?”
If my mind and soul had been dragged into “Origin World,” then what happened to the me in reality, to Kang Hangil of South Korea?
Did I die? Or did my very existence vanish, like in the common setups of web novels? Or perhaps the mind and soul of this body’s owner, Stanasilla Alzen, entered my body?
“...Fuck.”
The curse slipped out on its own.
I had no particular dissatisfaction with reality.
My parents were alive and well, my relationship with my siblings was good, and I had never felt materially lacking in life.
I did not have any mental or physical illness, nor any particular problems. If anything, I had gotten a job at a pretty good company and was flirting happily with my pretty girlfriend... I was a fairly happy person.
“And yet... I’m suddenly supposed to live as this body? Then what was my life up until now?”
Would I never be able to meet my family, friends, and lover again?
Was the life I had sincerely enjoyed and worked hard for to be shoved aside so emptily?
So suddenly and unreasonably?
There was no way I could acknowledge it. No way I could accept it.
“Ha...”
I could not understand at all how the countless web novel protagonists who got possessed could simply move past this kind of shock and emptiness as if it were nothing.
This was... murder.
I had been murdered.
By some unknown being, my life and existence had been unreasonably and absurdly stolen wholesale and denied.
I burst into a hollow laugh at the resentment and helplessness I simply could not bear.
“...Kekeke, why do I have to live as this body? Why do I have to live someone else’s life for him?”
Gulp!
With my mind pleasantly hazy, I downed another gulp of strong liquor, then flung the window open.
Perhaps because this was a mid-level chamber of a ducal castle built on high ground, the height seemed easily several dozen meters at a glance.
Beyond the fortress, I could see the capital, Terabaon, surrounding the ducal castle in a circle.
“Whew...”
The sixth sense I had never felt before in my life buzzed.
The unfamiliar energy I could feel inside and outside my body... this was probably what they called mana.
I could tell instinctively that this body, which contained even a small amount of it, was sturdier than an ordinary person’s.
Even so, from this height, I should be able to die instantly.
Crash!
At the same time as I threw the liquor bottle behind me, I threw myself out the window as well.
Right after feeling an infinite freedom, as if I had been liberated for a single moment, I fell headfirst and could vividly feel my skull split and my cervical vertebrae break.
I knew instinctively.
In a few seconds, unbearable pain would come crashing in.
“Ha, khuh...”
But fortunately, before my consciousness could feel that pain, it was dyed pitch-black.
***
To state the result, I failed.
Liberation was thwarted, and freedom became a fleeting dream.
“......”
Gulp!
I had regressed.
Back to the moment I first woke up in that unfamiliar room.
Even after jumping a few more times, the result was the same.
“Heh, haha... hahuhu...”
I had read a passage in some book once.
Those who experience murder become strange, and those who experience death become even stranger.
It was truly accurate.
My consciousness, fragmented and severed, tangled together in a mess and became an unidentified shape, and before long, it mixed with emotions that had sunk down stickily, turning into such a wreck that I could no longer tell what was what.
Gulp!
I suppressed that thing, which felt as if it would explode at any moment, with strong liquor.
“Haa... What the hell do you want from me... you fucking bastard... why, what do you want...”
I muttered with my drunken mind, then looked up at the ceiling.
The excessive injustice and rage made me feel as if my mind would snap.
Perhaps because of the extreme stress, my five viscera and six bowels felt as if they were being wrung out, granting me a throbbing pain so intense it sobered me up.
Gulp!
I downed the strong liquor once again and sank into thought.
“......”
I felt as if I would go mad from all kinds of negative emotions, and yet there was not absolutely no hope.
This was inside a game that had become reality, and I had been possessed by a game character, so if I saw the ending, perhaps I could return to reality.
“Puh, hahaha...”
Of course, that too would probably be decided by the mood and whim of whatever being brought me here, but yes, if that damned thing whose identity I did not know had a reason for dragging me here, it could only be one thing: the ending.
Other than that, I could not think of any reason I would have been dragged here by force.
No, there must not be anything else.
Gulp!
“Haaa...”
Then, though I had no motivation or passion, though I truly did not want to do it, should I seriously think about it?
About how I was supposed to reach the ending as this damned body I had possessed, as Stanasilla Alzen.
***
“...Fuck.”
The curse came out on its own.
Because it did not take long for me to reach the conclusion that there was no answer with this body.
Stanasilla Alzen.
A figure with the tremendous backing of being the third son of a ducal house, yet whose own talents were rock bottom. Compared to his other siblings, he fell into an inferiority complex and sank into a scoundrel.
In the game, he was an extra bit part who appeared only once as a homeless man, with no connection whatsoever to the protagonist.
Ironically, because he was a scoundrel with no abilities at all, he became the only... no, the second survivor of the ducal house. His role ended after giving the protagonist’s party a quest and handing over the ducal house’s heirloom, the “Sword of Stars,” as the reward. After that, he never appeared again.
“Ha...”
Of all people to be possessed by, I had ended up possessing this kind of bastard.
“......”
Was it because some time had passed and I had stabilized?
Stanasilla Alzen’s memories began to creep up to the surface.
Memories about the person called Stanasilla Alzen, which had not appeared even in the setting books that described every trivial useless thing in meticulous detail.
“...He really was a hopeless bastard.”
Stanasilla Alzen, a violent drunken scoundrel.
In this guy’s memories, there existed nothing but alcohol, violence, and criminal acts.
Using the ducal house’s authority as his shield, assault, robbery, fraud... even murder and rape.
He had truly committed every kind of trashy act there was.
And I was supposed to live my life in this guy’s place from now on?
While eating every insult imaginable?
It felt like all motivation was effectively disappearing.
“Whew...”
The more I thought about it, the more despairing it became.
Relying on Alzen’s memories, I calculated roughly, and there were still three years until the original story began, but the ducal house would fall within one year.
In other words, if I wanted to do anything with this talentless body, I had to prevent the fall of the ducal house.
“...Seriously. If the ducal house falls, I’m screwed.”
I thought about it for a moment.
If I let the ducal house fall as it did in the original development, how should I proceed?
Mercenary, adventurer, merchant, mage, alchemist...
“Mm. That’s going to be fucking brutal.”
Several possibilities came to mind, but with this body that had no talent at all, the only things I could do would be mercenary or adventurer work.
Even then, I could not dream of climbing to a high position and would just wander around the bottom.
If I truly wanted to do anything at all, I had to avoid the fall of the ducal house somehow.
“......”
But then, even if I did save it, that became a problem too.
At the point of the original story, the ducal house had already become a dungeonized area, an important hunting ground and item-looting location for the protagonist—the player.
In other words, the contents of the original story would be twisted.
What I had was not a status window or anything like that, only my knowledge of the original work, and that knowledge would be greatly distorted from the very start.
“Wow, how is this so fucking awful...?”
Unable to suppress the sigh that surged up from deep in my stomach, I gulped down the liquor.
“Huu... Ah, I don’t know. It’ll work out somehow. For now, let’s save the ducal house first.”
Laughing as if I had gone mad, I continued to down the strong liquor.
Knock, knock.
Then someone knocked on the door.
“L-Lord Stanasilla Alzen. M-May I come in?”
A thoroughly cowed and frightened voice.
“What is it?”
Perhaps because of Alzen’s memories, a blunt voice flowed out on its own.
Thwack!
Disgusted and irritated by that, I punched myself in the face with all my strength.
“Whew...”
It hurt.
I had hit Stanasila Alzen, and the thought that I was the one who had to endure the pain made irritation surge up inside me.
Ah, right. So from now on, I’m Stanasila Alzen, is that it?
What a ridiculous load of crap. Go to hell.
“E-excuse me...”
“Fine. What is it?”
The one who carefully opened the door and came in was a small, young-looking maid.
“Th-the, um... the room cleaning...”
“...Fine. Do it.”
“Y-yes...”
“Ah, but.”
“Hiiik! Y-yes!?”
The maid, frightened far more than necessary, trembled at the shoulders with tears welling in her eyes.
It was a detail that showed, in the simplest possible way, what kind of image Stanasila Alzen had.
“What month, day, and time is it right now?”
“Y-yes...?”
“I asked what month, day, and time it is right now.”
“Uh, th-that is... March 12th, 9 a.m... sir.”
Hearing her answer after she checked the clock, I searched through the memories in my head.
“Origin World,” which had even published a massive setting book and revealed all kinds of lore, had clearly recorded the exact point when the ducal house began to decline, the process of that decline, and even the date of its destruction.
Even though it had absolutely nothing to do with the story of the original game.
It would not be an exaggeration to call it the work of lore-obsessed maniacs.
Well, I was the kind of person who read and enjoyed all of that, so who was I to talk?
In any case, I’m lucky.
The timing is perfect... No, did whatever possessed me send me to this exact point on purpose?
“I see... so that’s how it is. Then it should be breakfast time right now. The whole family must be gathered in the dining room.”
“Ah, about that...”
At the maid’s frightened, hesitant attitude, a sudden rush of irritation welled up inside me.
“Stop spacing out and answer clearly!!”
“Hieeek! I’m sorry! Y-yes! Everyone is having breakfast in the dining room right nooow!”
“Phew...”
Was I being influenced by Stanasila Alzen? Before I knew it, I had shouted.
...No, I did have that bastard’s memories, but the influence wasn’t that strong.
Maybe I had simply given up on everything.
“Clean it properly.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
I did not apologize for shouting at her.
Unsteadily raising myself to my feet, I staggered toward the dining room with a liquor bottle in one hand.
***
As I entered the neat, solemn, yet splendid dining room, the faces of the Stanasila family, surrounded by numerous servants and maids, turned toward me.
The head of the house, Stanasila Urtega, looking at me expressionlessly.
The duchess, Stanasila Pitra, looking at me with concern.
The eldest son, Stanasila Berga, and the second daughter, Stanasila Weller, looking at me with contempt and disgust.
The youngest, Stanasila Vivian, looking at me with innocent curiosity and a hint of fear.
I struggled to steady my swaying vision and looked them over.
“Ha, you have the nerve to show your face without any shame. Do you not have even the slightest sense of decency?”
Weller’s sharp voice pierced me.
I paid it no mind.
Because those words were aimed at Alzen, not me.
“To defy your confinement order and appear here—what are you thinking? Have you forgotten what you did?”
Berga’s voice, brimming with disgust, dug into my ears.
Likewise, I paid it no mind.
“Phew...”
If this were an ordinary possession story about becoming a wastrel, this would be the part where I gave a polite greeting and apologized, saying I was sorry.
Then the family would widen their eyes in surprise.
“That wastrel is apologizing!?”
“That wastrel actually greeted us with proper manners? The sun must have risen in the west.”
“Has Alzen changed somehow?”
Something like that.
Most of the wastrel-possession stories I had read began that way, then slowly polished up the character’s image.
Showing a completely different side, building achievements, doing good deeds, saving someone... and the more he did, the more the image of a wastrel would be washed away, and the gazes of those around him would turn into respect and admiration.
But I had absolutely no intention of doing that.
Why should I go that far for trash like Alzen?
Even if I changed his image for the better, in the end, it would become Alzen’s effort, and the goodwill and respect would be directed toward Alzen.
No one would acknowledge the time and resources I, Kang Han-gil, invested, or the effort I put in, so why should I go through all that trouble?
Even if I suddenly changed my mind and did so, how could I guarantee that the higher-dimensional something that dragged me into this world wouldn’t drag me somewhere else again?
It was all meaningless.
So, in any case, all I had to do was save the ducal house.
Whatever happened to my image would somehow work out.
If it didn’t, then screw it, I could just regress and start over.
So I decided I would simply live as a wastrel.
“Shut!! Your moooooooouths!!”
My voice, filled with resentment and rage, resounded thunderously through the vast dining room.