“Thank goodness you’re awake, my lord.”
A woman’s voice came from the right side of the bed.
Reka was still struggling with the pain in his neck. His breathing was uneven, and his vision had yet to fully clear when the voice spoke again, this time faster and filled with panic.
“If you hadn’t woken up, I would have lost my job. Please forgive me, my lord. I truly am sorry. I know I was out of line for entering your room and waking you without permission. I’ll do anything. Please, don’t be angry with me.”
Every word left her lips with a tremble. Her breath broke several times, as though she could barely finish a sentence without crying.
Only then did Reka realize that someone else was in the room.
He shifted his eyes to the right without turning his neck.
A young woman stood beside the bed. Her long black hair had been braided and tied into a ponytail. She wore a black-and-white maid uniform that looked like something straight out of a royal period film.
But her clothes were not what caught Reka’s attention.
Her left cheek was red and slightly swollen. A thin cut marked the corner of her lips. Both of her hands were wrapped in bandages, but several exposed fingers still trembled over the apron she was gripping tightly.
Her face looked exhausted, her eyes were swollen, and traces of tears still clung to her eyelashes.
For several seconds, Reka completely forgot about his own pain.
“Uh, miss? Who are you?”
The woman lifted her face slightly.
“I’m sorry, my lord. What do you mean?”
Their eyes met.
Only for two seconds.
But to the woman, those two seconds seemed to be a grave mistake.
Her eyes widened, and she immediately lowered her head until her chin nearly touched her chest.
“Please forgive me, Lord Zeldryn. I didn’t mean to look you in the eyes. I sincerely apologize.”
Her body began trembling even harder. She even took half a step backward, as though preparing herself to be slapped.
Reka frowned.
What the hell is wrong with her?
He had only asked who she was. Why was she acting like she had committed some horrible crime?
And then there was that strange name she kept saying.
Zeldryn.
Who the hell was Zeldryn?
“Wait a second, miss. I think you’ve got the wrong person. My name is Re...”
Reka tried to sit up.
The moment his back lifted slightly from the mattress, the pain that had been concentrated in his neck suddenly spread throughout his entire body.
It felt as though every bone was being pulled in a different direction. The muscles in his arms and legs tensed at the same time. His head throbbed so violently that his vision turned white.
“ARRRGGHH!”
Reka immediately collapsed back onto the pillow.
The woman flinched.
Instead of approaching him, she stepped backward and raised both hands to protect her face.
“Please forgive me! Please don’t be angry, my lord!”
But Reka could no longer hear her clearly.
Something forced its way into his head.
It was not a voice.
It was not ordinary pain either.
This content has been unlawfully taken from NovelPhoenix; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Memories.
Someone else’s memories flooded his mind without any order.
A glass filled with red liquor was thrown against a wall.
A servant knelt on the floor and begged for mercy.
A young boy’s laughter echoed through a room filled with empty bottles.
A village child was forced to hand over his belongings simply because he had supposedly failed to show enough respect.
The door to a brothel opened in the middle of the night. A black-haired boy entered with an arrogant smile, even though he was nowhere near old enough to be in a place like that.
There was also an image of a woman standing beside a bed while crying. Her black hair was braided, and both of her hands were trembling.
She was the same woman now standing beside Reka.
Every fragment appeared and vanished in an instant.
Reka did not recognize most of the faces, but he could feel the arrogance of the person who owned those memories.
The belief that everyone around him was beneath him.
The certainty that a noble title could justify anything he did.
Then a name appeared with perfect clarity.
Zeldryn Giorry.
A son of the noble Giorry family.
A twelve-year-old boy.
A troublemaker.
An underage drunk.
A pervert.
He enjoyed bullying those weaker than himself and flaunting his family’s authority. The servants hated him, the nearby residents feared him, and his own family considered him worthless trash who only brought shame to the Giorry name.
“Hah... hah...”
Reka lay on the bed, gasping for air. Cold sweat ran down his temples.
Those memories did not belong to him.
He was certain of that.
But they felt far too real to be dismissed as a dream.
Amid the chaos, Reka’s own memories began to surface.
The 5,296-chapter novel he had spent almost three months reading.
A novel titled Life Really Is Happy, Right?
Reka could still remember its world clearly enough.
Kingdoms at war with one another.
Nobles fighting over power.
Mana users capable of tearing entire armies apart.
And a protagonist who continued gaining new enemies as his strength grew.
Among the hundreds of noble houses in the novel, there had been one called Giorry.
A noble family of marquis rank.
However, the Giorry family had never been important to the story. They only appeared briefly during one section of the novel.
The head of the family became one of the protagonist’s enemies and was eventually defeated.
After that, the Giorry family simply vanished from the story.
There was no explanation of what happened to them.
None of their family members ever appeared again.
Even after reading all the way to the final chapter, Reka had never seen the name Zeldryn Giorry mentioned even once.
Reka stared at the luxurious ceiling above him, his breathing still uneven.
If this truly was the world of that novel, then he had not become the protagonist.
He had not even become a minor character who had appeared in the story.
He had entered the body of someone whose existence had not been important enough to write about.
“I became a character who never even appeared in the novel?”
Reka pressed his fingers against his temple, trying to process everything that had just entered his head.
“What the hell is this? Maybe I could’ve accepted it if I became the protagonist. At least I’d know the path his life was supposed to take, who his enemies were, where the treasures were hidden, and what I needed to do to stay alive.”
He clenched his teeth.
“But this? I became some bastard whose name wasn’t even mentioned?”
The more he thought about it, the more one possibility began to make sense.
A possibility he had been trying to avoid.
The strange question at the end of the novel.
The insults he had thrown at the author.
And the curses he had screamed at God moments before the floor of his rented room collapsed.
“Don’t tell me this happened because I insulted God last night.”
Reka ground his teeth.
“If that’s really the reason, then fuck you, God! You shoved me into the body of someone whose future I don’t even know. At least give me a damn clue, you bastard!”
He wanted to continue cursing, but the sound of trembling breaths beside the bed made him stop.
Reka turned his head.
The woman was still standing in the same place with her head lowered.
Both of her hands gripped her apron so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Her shoulders occasionally twitched, but she was desperately trying not to let her sobs make a sound.
A name surfaced from the fragments of Zeldryn’s memories.
Hera.
The personal maid who had served this body for years.
Along with her name came several more memories.
Shouting.
Insults.
A small hand slapping her across the face.
Hera kneeling on the floor and apologizing, even though Reka did not know what she had supposedly done wrong.
Reka stared at her swollen cheek and bandaged hands.
His chest tightened.
“What a fucking bastard,” he muttered quietly enough that Hera could not hear him.
He felt sickened by the former owner of this body.
But this was not the right time to reveal that he had changed.
Reka often hesitated when making major decisions, but once he was trapped in a situation, he could adapt quickly enough.
If he suddenly started treating everyone kindly, claimed that his name was Reka, and began asking questions Zeldryn should already know, people would become suspicious.
He did not know whether this place was safe.
He did not know who he could trust either.
For now, the most reasonable option was to continue playing the role of Zeldryn.
At least until he had enough time to think clearly.
Reka slowly took a breath and changed his expression. He raised his chin and glared at Hera as sharply as he could.
“Hoh? A lowly maid dares enter my room without permission? Do you want me to kill you where you stand? Get out right now, you lowly wretch!”
His raised voice immediately made Hera flinch.
Her face turned even paler.
She hurriedly bowed, lowering herself so deeply that her long hair fell over her shoulders.
“Please forgive me, my lord! I sincerely apologize. I will leave immediately!”
Hera stepped backward several times before turning toward the door. She moved so quickly that she nearly tripped over the hem of her own uniform.
However, when she closed the door, her hands moved extremely slowly.
She held the handle with both hands, making sure it did not produce even the slightest loud sound.
Click.
The door closed.
Reka waited several seconds to make sure Hera was truly gone.
Once he could no longer hear her footsteps outside, his entire body went limp against the mattress.
“Whew. Finally, I’m alone.”
He stared at the ceiling while steadying his breathing.
“Okay. Time to think and come up with a plan for my future.”