"Ugh."
Waking up, I felt no trace of fatigue, only a refreshing clarity, which meant I'd clearly overslept.
"What time is it...?"
As I opened my eyes, an unfamiliar ceiling greeted me. The sensation against my back was off too. I'd fallen asleep on a hard, heated floor, so what was this soft, fluffy feeling?
"You're awake, my lord?"
"Huh?"
A woman I'd never seen before appeared out of nowhere. She had striking blue hair and pale, flawless skin—a beauty I didn't recognize. Oddly, she was dressed in a butler's uniform, with a sword strapped to her side.
"Uh, uh…"
"How are you feeling, my lord?"
I stammered, caught off guard, as she spoke again.
"My body? What?"
"Hm."
At my words, she flinched, her brow furrowing slightly.
"I'll fetch the priest at once."
"Hey, wait!"
Ignoring my protest, she turned and left the room as if her task was done.
"Who was that? And where am I?"
I shot up from the bed. In my cramped studio apartment, I'd expect to see a rusty clothes-drying rack the moment I got up. Instead, a large full-length mirror stood before me.
"What the…"
Gone was the scruffy, bearded man I knew. Staring back from the mirror was a chubby young man, maybe in his mid-to-late teens. When I raised my right hand, the figure in the mirror raised his left.
"Haha, it's a dream. Time to go back to sleep."
Unable to accept this reality, I was about to crawl back into bed when the door swung open. Two men and the woman from earlier entered.
The middle-aged man in front wore a gaudy medieval noble's outfit, while the older man behind him was dressed in the garb of a foreign priest I'd seen on the news.
"So, the disgrace of our family name finally wakes up?" the middle-aged man spat, glaring at me with venom.
I hadn't done anything since waking up here, so I had no reason to be on the receiving end of his anger.
"Easy, my lord," the older man interjected. "The young master has only just awakened. Save the punishment for later."
"Tch."
The man called the Marquis clicked his tongue, his icy gaze still fixed on me.
"Considering you were beaten to the point of fainting, you're surprisingly unscathed," the priest said, placing a hand on my body. A warm, mystical sensation flowed into me.
"Your mind is stable, and most of your wounds have healed. That's fortunate."
"Fortunate? I'd rather he'd died…" the Marquis muttered, his voice dripping with chilling sincerity.
"The remaining injuries will heal naturally, my lord," the priest continued, addressing the Marquis.
"You've done well, Priest Alio. You may leave."
"Yes, my lord."
The priest bowed respectfully and exited. As soon as he left, the Marquis's oppressive presence grew heavier.
"You tried to assault your fiancée? You're worse than a beast!"
"What?"
Was he saying I assaulted my fiancée?
"I thought my ears were playing tricks on me, you wretched fool!"
"You're nineteen this year. Isn't it time you got your act together? How long will you live like a reckless degenerate? Even your younger brother has awakened his aura, yet you, the eldest, haven't even bothered with basic training and just keep getting fatter!"
"I can't keep coddling you forever. The Rocks family has always passed the title to the eldest son. But in your current state, I can't entrust you with the family name. If you inherited the Rocks legacy like this, our ancestors would rise from their graves to strike me down."
"You'll be the first to break the Rocks family tradition. Splendid. Just splendid!"
The Marquis unleashed a torrent of scolding before I could get a word in.
"Once you're fully recovered, go to her and apologize properly."
"Her?"
"Do I have to spell it out? Go to Illia and apologize sincerely! If she doesn't forgive you, you're done for!"
"…Yes."
Apologizing for something I didn't do felt deeply unfair, but since I was convinced this was a dream, I just mumbled, "Yes."
"Hm?"
My response seemed to catch him off guard; his eyebrows shot up. But his cold expression quickly returned.
"Don't bring any more shame to the Rocks family, Yuren. This is your last chance."
The Rocks family? Yuren? Was he saying I'm Yuren Rocks?
"I'm Yuren Rocks?"
"What?"
The Marquis tilted his head, looking at me as if I'd said something absurd.
"What nonsense are you spouting now?"
"Then you're Wellington Rocks?"
I muttered the name that inexplicably popped into my head, as if possessed.
Whack!
"Argh!"
A dull impact hit the back of my head. The Marquis had closed the distance in an instant and struck me.
"How dare you call your father by his name, you insolent brat!"
The mental shock outweighed the physical pain.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I locked eyes with the chubby youth in the mirror again. He was rubbing the back of his head, mouth agape from the blow.
"Oh…"
My vision blurred, and my eyes began to close.
"Yuren! You little— Yuren!"
The Marquis's frantic voice echoed as I lost consciousness—or rather, let it slip away.
"Ugh…"
When I opened my eyes, the same pristine ceiling greeted me. Even after passing out and waking up, I was still here.
"You're awake, my lord?"
The same beautiful woman appeared before me. I felt like I knew her name—no, I did know it.
"Arin?"
"Yes, young master."
"Haa…"
I buried my head back into the pillow and closed my eyes.
"Let me change your towel."
Arin removed the damp cloth from my forehead and replaced it with a cool one. The icy sensation jolted my body awake.
"Did I really end up here because I tried to force myself on Illia and got beaten unconscious?"
"Why are you suddenly being so polite, my lord?"
My formal tone seemed to confuse her; she looked at me with puzzled eyes.
"So… I got knocked out because I went after Illia and she beat me up, right?"
"Precisely. You tried to assault Lady Illia here and were thoroughly beaten, resulting in your collapse."
Arin's voice was flat, her response without hesitation.
"Wow. I'm screwed."
A curse slipped out before I could stop it.
"Young master?"
"No, it's nothing. Haa…"
I finally grasped my situation.
Somehow, I'd been pulled into the world of the novel I wrote. And not as the protagonist, but as the villain who gets destroyed by him.
To sum up Yuren Rocks, the character I'd become: he's an irredeemable scoundrel who fears nothing. Talentless, incompetent, and utterly unwilling to put in any effort, his only asset is the prestige of being the eldest son of the Rocks Marquisate. Blinded by that status, he loses his fiancée to the protagonist, tries to take revenge, gets utterly crushed, and dies miserably in a back alley. That's Yuren's role.
"Phew."
Even if I twisted the original story to survive against the protagonist, the wars and monsters looming in the future would threaten my life.
In this uncertain future, there was only one way to survive.
I, as Yuren Rocks, had to become stronger. But there was a massive problem.
Yuren was such an insignificant extra that I couldn't recall a single detail about his talents or abilities.
"No, it's fine. There's still time. I'll figure something out."
I calmed myself. Yuren was nineteen, so there was still time before he'd cross paths with the protagonist or face major events.
If I used my knowledge of the story's settings and hidden opportunities well, I could find a way forward. Sure, most of those opportunities and items were meant for the protagonist and key characters, but who cares? I needed to survive first.
Stealing the protagonist's opportunities to stay alive was a shameless but optimistic plan. As I tried to get out of bed with that thought—
"Urk!"
Thud!
I hadn't accounted for my heavier body and moved as I normally would, only to tumble off the bed.
"Ugh!"
"Young master, are you alright?"
Grimacing more from embarrassment than pain, I looked up to see Arin staring down at me, her expression blank but tinged with pity.
"Huh?"
But her expression wasn't what caught my attention. Something that shouldn't have been visible appeared beside her face.
A small, translucent window.
[Name: Arin]
[Traits: Swift Blade Lv2, Clear Mind Lv1, Aura Adaptation Lv1]
[Affection: 0 (Neutral)]
"What the…"
I closed my eyes and opened them again, and the window vanished.
All I'd done was fall off the bed, feel embarrassed, and wince in pain. Nothing special.
"Wait a second."
I furrowed my brow and squinted deliberately. The information window reappeared.
"It worked!"
The window only appeared when I furrowed my brow and squinted.
"Young master?"
"It's nothing."
"You're acting very strange today."
"Must be because I got hit in the head."
I brushed it off with nonsense and studied her information window calmly. From her perspective, my words might've been offensive, but her face remained impassive.
[Name: Arin]
[Traits: Swift Blade Lv2, Clear Mind Lv1, Aura Adaptation Lv1]
Swift Blade was a trait that allowed mastery of rapid swordsmanship. Clear Mind granted a calm, observant state to read opponents. Aura Adaptation sped up the gathering and activation of aura.
These were high-level combat traits, ill-suited for a butler. But Arin was a swordmaster personally trained by Marquis Wellington. Though she hadn't received a title, her strength surpassed that of an average knight.
[Affection: 0 (Neutral)]
Affection? This wasn't some dating sim. Why was there an affection stat? And why was it at 0, neutral? Given Yuren's actions, I'd expect it to be -100 or worse.
Now that I understood my eye's ability, it was time to send Arin out and check my own stats.
"Arin."
"Yes?"
"I'm still not feeling great. I'd like to be alone."
"Understood."
Without another word, she bowed and left.
"Please…"
If this strange ability worked on me too, I could learn what traits I had and what I was capable of.
"Phew…"
I took a deep breath, furrowed my brow, and squinted.