SHV 01

chapter 01

Prologue

One morning, when I woke from a terrible dream, I realized that I had become someone who was not myself. And that I was in a strange world—not the one I used to live in. More precisely, I had ended up inside a novel I had written.

“So that’s… me?”

I muttered as I stared at the massive portrait covering an entire wall.

The man in the portrait, boasting a strikingly handsome appearance, was named Maximilian von Karayan—an extraordinary figure within the novel. At the age of 23, he became a full professor at the most prestigious university, led a civil revolution, overthrew the monarchy, and played a major role in establishing a republic.

He was also the one who eliminated the first marshal of the republic and rose to become the second marshal himself.

Charming, intelligent, and brimming with ambition—he was a man who lacked nothing.

But in the end, he became a dictator.

A brutal tyranny ruled by blood followed. And at the end of that tyranny awaited death—at the hands of the protagonist. A miserable, wretched death.

And now, I had become that very man.

The villain of the novel I wrote.

The one the protagonist must kill.

Which means… a miserable end awaits me.

Ah, a life where you know your own death. There’s no greater tragedy.

But if I think about it differently, maybe it’s not so bad. No—in fact, it might be quite a decent life.

“All I have to do is not become a tyrant, right?”

A faint smile crept onto my lips.

What if I don’t get drunk on power and just enjoy life in moderation?

As Karayan, I am a being with nothing to fear in this world.

Chapter 1: Maximilian von Karayan (1)

Winter had arrived.

And as if in step with the season, Karayan’s mansion was thoroughly wrapped in a chilling atmosphere.

“How is the lord? Still just sitting around?”

“Yes… He’s eating, but he hasn’t said much.”

“That’s troubling.”

The maids and attendants working in Karayan’s household spoke quietly while glancing up at the second floor where he stayed. The current cold atmosphere felt strange even to them.

“There used to be crowds coming and going talking about money, but it’s been so quiet these past few days…”

Given how prominent figures had been constantly visiting due to the nation’s financial issues, the silence felt even more unusual.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

As everyone whispered cautiously, worried about upsetting Karayan, the doorbell rang loudly, announcing a visitor.

“Was someone supposed to come today?”

The head maid asked, looking around. But no one had a clear answer.

Ding!

The bell rang again. The head maid gestured to one of the younger maids, who hurried to the entrance.

Clank!

The door opened roughly, and a man strode down the long hallway, his footsteps echoing sharply.

“What is going on with my brother?”

The man who entered was Orléans von Karayan, Karayan’s younger brother. Despite his gentle appearance, his voice was harsh as he pressed the maid who opened the door.

“I-I’m not sure…”

The young maid, only responsible for simple tasks, couldn’t give a proper answer.

“Then bring someone who does know! Hurry!”

Unable to contain his urgency, Orléans shoved her. She lost her balance and began to fall—

But someone caught her before she hit the ground.

It was the butler.

“You’ve arrived.”

Dressed in a black suit with round glasses, the butler steadied the maid and politely greeted Orléans.

“What’s going on? Did something happen to my brother?”

Orléans stepped closer, demanding answers.

“Nothing in particular has happened.”

“Then why can’t I get in touch with him?”

“The weather suddenly turned cold, so he may have caught a cold. He hasn’t been leaving his room.”

“A cold? That’s a problem! Do you know how important today is? Is it serious? Is he coughing badly?”

“I’m not sure about coughing. When I bring his meals, he doesn’t cough. But he does seem lethargic and sleeps constantly, so he appears unwell.”

“What about a doctor? You didn’t call one?”

“He refused. He said he just wants to rest.”

“That won’t do. I’ll have to check myself. Tell him I want to see him immediately.”

The butler nodded and went upstairs.

“Of all days to fall ill… This is bad. With the election so close, he can’t show weakness.”

Orléans muttered darkly as he paced the drawing room.

“…Sir.”

The butler returned, looking uneasy.

“Well? What did he say?”

“He said ‘understood,’ but nothing more.”

“What? I asked to see him, and he just stays in his room?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t that mean he’s waiting for me inside?”

“That’s unlikely. You know he hates meeting people in his bedroom.”

Orléans recalled the past—how, as a child, he had entered Karayan’s room without permission, only to be met with furious rage.

“If you enter my domain without permission, I won’t let you off. Even if you’re family.”

But he couldn’t just wait while Karayan stayed shut inside for days without confirming his condition.

“I’ll go myself.”

Guided by the butler, Orléans stood before the room at the end of the second floor.

Knock, knock.

No response.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Brother! Why haven’t you responded for days? What are you doing in there?”

Click.

The lock moved.

Unsure if it was permission, Orléans glanced at the butler—but he didn’t know either.

“…I’m coming in.”

He decided it was better to act first, even if it meant being scolded.

“Brother, what are you—… Brother?”

Inside, Karayan sat by the window, lazily gazing at him.

Orléans let out a breath of awe.

Sunlight streamed in, making Karayan’s pale skin shine like jewels. His deep blue eyes—deeper than anyone else in the family—gave off an almost mystical aura.

It was part of his power. Becoming a full professor at the University of Aragon at just 23 wasn’t just due to intelligence—his presence played a role too.

“…So it’s real. I have to accept that this is reality.”

Karayan muttered to himself.

“He kept asking if this was a dream yesterday,” the butler whispered.

Orléans’ face twisted. He stepped forward, checking Karayan’s condition—especially his head.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking if you’re sick.”

“I’m fine. Stop.”

“Are you really okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“…That’s a relief. Then please prepare quickly.”

“Prepare?”

Karayan frowned.

“Brother! Have you forgotten what day it is?”

“…Something important, I assume?”

“Yes! You need to give your speech well if you want to win the election!”

“Election… Ah, the election.”

Karayan repeated the word, then sighed.

“I’m not yet the leader of the Lechef Party, am I?”

At that, Orléans dropped to his knees.

“Brother! You said you were fine!”

“I am. Now leave. I need time to get ready.”

Later, in a carriage pulled by six horses…

Our destination: the Lechef Party headquarters.

“Please read this before we arrive. You’ll probably want to revise it.”

Orléans handed me a thick stack of speech drafts.

“Dear party members, today we live under the violence called tradition…”

The opening was powerful.

The rest of the speech boldly called for distrust in the current system and its overthrow.

Well, of course. In my novel, Karayan is the one who topples the monarchy and establishes a republic.

But right now, this is earlier than the timeline I wrote.

Which means…

If I want to avoid death, shouldn’t I just not aim for power?

Being a university professor would be more than enough to live comfortably.

“Brother…”

Orléans called cautiously.

“Do you have memory issues?”

“No.”

Even if I admitted it, what could they do? Implant his memories into me?

More likely they’d just waste money on useless doctors or incompetent mages.

Either way, it would just be exhausting.

After all, I’m not the real Maximilian von Karayan.

“…Your position in the party has weakened,” Orléans continued. “There are rumors—Tonali’s faction must be behind it.”

Tonali? No idea who that is.

But it doesn’t matter.

Even if I fail the election, I can still live just fine.

In fact, that might be better.

At least I won’t be killed by Christian.

—Notification—

[Novel Points: 100]

[Mission: Win the election and become the leader of the Lechef Party.]

[Reward: Map of Power]

[Failure: -10 Novel Points
※ If Novel Points reach 0, you will be permanently erased.]

—End—

“…Ha.”

A dry laugh escaped me.

“Brother? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

So even here, a system exists—just like in the novels I wrote.

And apparently, it has no intention of letting me enjoy an easy life.

What’s a ‘Map of Power’? And these Novel Points…?

The mission mattered, but the points mattered more.

For now, one thing was clear:

I must not fail.

If the first button is wrong, the rest won’t fit.

A cliché… one I used often.

After all—

This is my story.

“And who do you think I am?”

I am Maximilian von Karayan—the man who knows his fate.