Red looked ahead, toward the broken mirror, waiting for something to happen.
For his face to change, for everything around him to disappear and reshape itself, as if reality were an ever-shifting dream.
But nothing happened. Everything stayed still.
After some time, he lifted his right hand, rubbed his face, and frowned deeply. 'What in the name of Crimson Lady is happening to me!'
He had been sitting on the balcony, reading the webno—No. No. He had been sleeping, and when he woke, it felt like he was losing himself and something was about to take over him.
Then his mind went blank, and in that hazy moment of confusion, he realized that he was the MC.
'Wait. Did I just say I was the MC?'
Red would never normally think something like that, but somehow he agreed with the worldview behind it. He was the main character of his life, wasn't he? And wasn't there some novel written about him?
So, this or that. He was the MC.
'Wait. Why am I thinking like that?'
"Ughh… what's happening to me?" Red grumbled, resting his head against the wall.
He felt more exhausted than ever, his mind a maze of confusion. His emotions were stunned by the shock, unable to comprehend what was happening.
He leaned closer to the window and stared outside, shuddering as the early morning breeze brushed against him.
Red was on the top floor of the three-story wooden building. It didn't have a traditional roof, just a slanted one designed to withstand snowstorms. This was the servant quarter of one of the noble clans of Megara Town, Salamis.
Below, small patches of grass were dotted with flowers, and a little farther out, brick fences formed elegant patterns.
Townfolks moved along their paths, some heading to the parks, restaurants, workplaces, or anywhere their hearts desired.
From the third-floor window, they looked like ants. But it made no difference to Red. His mind was elsewhere, lost in thought, trying to find himself.
Time passed slowly. The sun, still low in the sky, began its steady ascent. The cold air warmed gradually, and the soft morning light brightened into a blinding glow.
Red, still in the same place, glanced at his reflection in the window glass. And it nodded at him. 'So, this might be the case… let me sort out all of it once again.'
He, or his past self, had been living in a normal world, completely different from here, with no spirits, no essence, nothing supernatural existing there.
But that world was far more advanced than this one and had things with abilities that even high-grade artifacts might have a hard time replicating.
Like communication across the world from one part to another in mere seconds or even less. There were also objects capable of destroying the entire world, without being supernatural.
'I wonder how much of that is true.' Red continued thinking. And that guy used to read a book, or more specifically a webnovel. In the webnovel he was a side character, a villain, Original MC, or something like that. The one who was chased by the Extra, whom the narration followed.
The guy worked super hard but ended up dying at the hands of Red. And the story ended.
Then. Then…
'Reviews… author… challenge.' Yeah. That was what happened.
Many readers were angered by the novel's bad ending and flooded the author with insults and harsh reviews.
One thing led to another, and they even challenged the author directly. After reading the author's last reply, he felt dizzy and collapsed, and here he was, transmigrated into this body.
'So… you're telling me bad reviews from others and a single sarcastic comment did all of that?' Red refused to believe that. It all felt more fake than anything. But for now he decided to put this matter aside since he had no way to know the real reason or who was scheming behind this whole situation.
There were more important matters than that, 'like how handsome I am.'
The reflection in the mirror looked at him with a frown and sighed dramatically as if it was tired of him being an idiot.
'My thoughts are drifting to unrelated matters again… but…'
Red sighed heavily. 'I did it again. Acting like this is my new body.'
Sometimes Red acted like he was in a new body, like he was the reader, the guy whose memories he had inherited and who had been transmigrated into Red's body.
And sometimes he acted like Red, who had gotten memories of some guy or maybe his past-life memories.
Red was not even sure what was happening anymore and felt nothing but confusion and helplessness. Even after hours of thinking, everything remained unclear.
He sighed again. 'Only goddess might know how many times I had done it.'
He was still lost in thought when the door slammed open. A middle-aged man with a scornful expression, dressed in the standard servant clothes, stormed into the room.
"Why weren't you present for work! mutt, are you slacking off again?"
Red didn't answer. He just stared at the man with an expressionless face, as if he had grown used to this behavior.
"Not going to answer, as always, huh? Truly abusing the kindness of the young miss, aren't we?"
"Go and put on your uniform. Fast."
Red stood up after hearing the last instruction. But before he could reach the wardrobe, the man lunged, kicking his legs. Red fell to the floor, his head striking the wooden frame of the bed.
"Ughh…" Red let out a low, pained moan.
"This is for ignoring me, bitch."
The man grabbed Red by his long hair and lifted him, staring straight into his eyes. "You've got quite an attitude these days, haven't you? Just because the young lady likes your face doesn't mean anything to me."
"You dirty outsider. A dirty whore. Your mother was probably the same, no? A dirty son of a dirty whore."
"Now get ready and come out! There's a lot of work waiting."
He spat on Red's face and threw him aside like a rough sack before storming out of the room.
Red, completely expressionless as if the man's actions hadn't affected him in the slightest, slowly stood up with the help of the bed and put on the brown shirt and matching pants.
'It's gone red.' Red glanced at his reflection, noticing the spot on his head where it had struck the wooden frame, now slightly reddened.
'Isn't he pathetic?' Red, inside the mirror, nodded at his own words, fully agreeing with himself.
The man's name was Cortil, a servant who had worked under the Salamis clan for more than two decades.
Originally from one of the small villages around the town, Cortil's village had been destroyed, and he had come here seeking a livelihood. He took a job in the clan as a servant, believing that hard work and loyalty might earn him the town's citizenship.
But it never happened. He would never rise above being a lowly servant, and the town would never let an outsider like him become more than that.
Then Red arrived and gained a special position as the young lady's favorite, which only fueled Cortil's bitterness and jealousy. Now, he beat and insulted Red at every opportunity he got.
'Truly pathetic. Not even worth hatred or resentment.'
Red felt no urge to take revenge on the likes of Cortil.
It was not because he was emotionless or lacked the capacity for anger—but because he understood him all too well.
Cortil was a man crushed by an unfair world, someone who had struggled, hoped, and endured, only to realize that his efforts amounted to nothing.
When the path upward was sealed, he chose the easier direction and moved downward instead. And in doing so, he tried to drag others with him.
People like him mistook their cruelty toward others as a right. They tried everything to drag others down, tormenting them and spreading hatred wherever they went.
Such people were not worth anger.
They were only worth being left behind.
Against them, confrontation was not the answer.
Their true enemy was restraint, the refusal to react, the refusal to acknowledge them, the refusal to become like them.
One should not become like those who live only to drag others down; instead become someone who focused solely on their own growth.
Because left alone, they would destroy themselves.
Red shook his head, dismissed his thoughts, and stepped outside, where the man told him the work he had to do that day.
As he moved toward the big mansion, the brief disgust toward Cortil faded, and the lost, empty feeling returned.
The drama with Cortil had shifted his focus, but only for a moment.
Once he was alone again, the emptiness came back just as strong.
The path ahead was clean and clear, but the path to the future looked blank, surrounded by darkness, a future full of uncertainty.
'The road to the future looks blank… but interesting enough to walk,' he thought, moving forward with nothing particular in his mind.