When I opened my eyes in the morning, I had become someone else.
My tiny five-pyeong studio apartment had transformed into a five-star hotel bedroom, and the simple sleeping mat was now a luxurious bed draped with ornate curtains.
Am I dreaming? I pinched my cheek, but the sharp pain felt all too real.
"This isn't a dream?"
I crawled out of bed and stood before the full-length mirror in the corner of the room.
Tall stature, sharp features, a gaunt face with a decadent allure, and smooth, pale skin.
Aside from the black hair, there wasn't a single thing about this man in the mirror that resembled me.
His appearance felt utterly detached from reality, yet absurdly enough, I knew exactly who he was.
"I had my suspicions, but it's really Heinz, huh?"
The sole heir to the Altesia Count House, infamous for its wealth, and a third-rate villain from the game Aslon Chronicles.
Nicknamed the Ketchup Young Master.
The moniker came from his assassination scene, where the blood effects looked so cheap it was like someone had dumped ketchup on him. And his name was Heinz, after all.
A character so worthless even the game devs had tossed him aside—that was me now.
"Out of all the characters, why did I have to possess Heinz Altesia of all people...? I'm screwed."
The Altesia family.
A great merchant house of the Bartem Empire, elevated to nobility from trade roots.
They'd earned their title through massive wartime contributions funded by their fortune.
So famous across the empire that countless people scrambled to forge connections with them.
The flaw? Born merchants, they had zero talent for sword or sorcery.
Past family heads had sought ties with sword saints and archmages to compensate, but the talent never passed down.
People called it the Altesia curse, and Heinz had inherited a body utterly devoid of even a speck of gift.
No talent, but overflowing wealth—surely enough to live carefree forever, right? Sadly, no such future awaited.
War's winds would ravage the empire, devaluing currency to nothing.
In a world where might ruled all, what good was flaunting money?
And the Altesia family's only son, Heinz, wouldn't even survive to see the chaos—he'd be assassinated first.
The family and Heinz alike were doomed to fall together.
"I just slept and woke up... what the hell is this bolt from the blue?"
It was tragic, but now that I was Heinz, I had to find a way to survive no matter what.
One silver lining: Heinz had no siblings.
No bloody succession feuds meant he held the most power in the family after the family head.
His father, the current head, was away on foreign business for a major deal, and his mother had passed early.
In other words, right now, I had the acting family head's authority to decide major family matters.
'Got money and power before any proper upbringing—small wonder he turned into a scoundrel.'
I sank into a chair as plush as the bed.
Leaning my head back, I exhaled deeply and closed my eyes.
Recalling memories of playing Aslon Chronicles, I sifted through the fragments.
What did I need to do to survive?
'First off, avoid every event tied to Heinz's death.'
True to a third-rate villain, even his demise was pathetic.
Lacking judgment, he shunned loyal retainers and cozied up to sycophants.
That led him to fund an illegal drug operation without a clue.
The empire began rotting from within, letting the shadowy Nidhogg Cult flourish unchecked.
Eventually, players exposed the ties between Heinz and the cult to the world.
To silence him, the cult sent an assassin, and Heinz exited as a cold corpse.
A life of nothing but exploitation—not an exaggeration.
'Can't follow in Heinz's footsteps.'
Keep the devoted close, purge the schemers. That was the plan.
As I resolved myself, I heard footsteps outside the door.
"Y-Young Master? Are you inside?"
Knock knock!
A presumed valet knocked and called out to me.
He'd know Heinz well, so I had to act without raising suspicions.
I cleared my throat to deepen my voice.
"Who is it?"
"It's Luke! If it's not too much trouble, may I come in?"
"Come in."
The door opened, revealing a boy with shaggy hair covering his eyes.
He immediately bowed ninety degrees.
What the hell had the Ketchup Young Master done to make people cower without even eye contact?
I clicked my tongue as Luke boomed his apology.
"I'm terribly sorry for disturbing your sleep so early in the morning!"
"Quiet down. Don't apologize for every little thing."
"S-Sorry!"
"So, what's the errand?"
Luke flinched and bowed his head lower.
Still bowed, he murmured his reply.
"I-It's Young Master Levin. He's summoning you."
"Levin?"
"Yes, your close friend from two days ago, the third son of the Adenberg Marquis House."
Of course I had no idea who that was, but it already felt ominous.
No "friend" of Heinz's could be normal.
Just summoning me like this screamed his character.
With the family head away, I—as Altesia heir—was effectively the head.
Yet this freeloader in our estate was calling the master of the house?
Either insane or utterly lacking manners.
"Tell him I'll be there soon."
"Understood. Then..."
"Hold on."
I'd planned to make the insolent punk wait twelve hours.
But then I spotted something I couldn't ignore.
I grabbed Luke's shoulder as he turned to leave.
Spinning him around, I checked his cheek.
"What happened to your face?"
"Th-That's...!"
"Tell me now."
A clear handprint marred Luke's cheek.
Whoever struck him had put real force into it—his left side was badly swollen.
Anger rising, I pressed him sharply for details.
After hesitating, Luke spoke cautiously.
"Young Master Levin ordered me to fetch you, but I objected repeatedly that it was improper, so..."
"And he hit you for it? Ha! Unbelievable."
"I'm so sorry for showing such an unsightly state!"
"Chin up."
Thinking he'd get hit too, Luke began trembling.
Pity stirred at the sight of him squeezing his eyes shut while lifting his head.
I had no intention of striking him.
I patted his shoulder and brushed past.
"Are you an idiot? You did nothing wrong—why bow your head?"
"Y-Young Master?"
"Go to the kitchen and ice that. I'll handle our guest."
I waved my hand dismissively and headed for the drawing room.
A mansion I'd never seen before, yet I knew exactly where it was.
The soul had changed, but the body's ingrained memories remained intact.
"Ugh, damn it!"
The drawing room door revealed a sight that wrinkled my nose.
The stench of booze and stale smoke assaulted me.
The floor was littered with passed-out drunks and naked prostitutes.
"Hey! Heinz!"
A blond man puffed chain-smoked cigars atop the desk.
His sleazy face nearly made me hurl, but I swallowed it down.
Levin Adenberg, third son of the Adenberg Marquis House.
This was the bastard who'd summoned the acting family head in person—and even struck another house's servant.
"Took you long enough. I've been waiting ages."
"What's the business?"
"Huh? Why so prickly all of a sudden? Not mad I called you out, right? Nah, our big-hearted Lord Heinz wouldn't fuss over that!"
What a clown.
Even this brief exchange revealed his type.
Pretending to praise while subtly insulting.
Probably how he'd always escaped consequences before—by stroking Heinz's ego.
Exactly the kind of person I despised.
"No business? Then I'm off."
"Wait! Fine, fine! I have a killer business idea and wanted Altesia backing!"
"Killer business? What's that?"
"Got the proposal right here. Take a look."
Levin handed me the parchment.
I snatched it and skimmed quickly.
Rare herbs imported from abroad, refined into medicine for sale.
No need to read further—I knew it was drugs.
The labor costs were suspiciously high compared to herb prices.
You needed a lot of manpower to peddle narcotics under the empire's nose.
"Interesting."
"Right? Just fund it, and we can start today!"
"Fine. How much?"
"Huh? Isn't the capital listed in the proposal?"
"Not money. Your prison term, asshole."
"Wha...?"
Levin's face went slack.
He clearly couldn't process my words.
Idiot didn't even grasp his situation.
Clap clap!
Two claps, and Altesia knights waiting outside entered.
Only then did Levin's face drain white.
"H-Ha! This joke's gone too far! Not funny!"
"Does this look like a joke? Hey, grab him."
"R-Really grab Young Master Levin?"
"Want your rice bowl smashed? Do it."
"Yes, sir!"
Arms pinned by the knights, Levin thrashed futilely.
No way a boozehound could break free.
The commotion roused the other uninvited guests one by one.
I ordered the knights to eject them before they fully woke.
"Let me go, you fucks! Do you know who I am?!"
Levin clung stubbornly.
I signaled the knights to hold tight.
Stepping up, I met his glare, teeth gritted.
"Heinz! After all I've done for you! And you repay kindness with enmity?!"
"Bullshit. That's your 'kindness'? Dragging me into drugs?"
"H-How did you...!"
Levin's pupils dilated visibly.
He'd truly believed I wouldn't notice.
How thick-skulled was the real Heinz?
More shocked by the Ketchup Young Master's IQ than Levin's schemes, I sighed.
"You bring a half-assed proposal and think I'd miss it? You're hopeless."
Perfect chance to settle a score. I raised my palm.
Aimed at Levin's cheek.
I swung with all my might.
Smack!
The crisp sound snapped his head sideways.
Blood trickled from his nostrils; he went limp, out cold.
Pain shot through my hand simultaneously.
This damn body—wrist nearly sprained from one slap.
"Dungeon for him. Send this parchment to the palace. His Majesty will judge."
"Understood."
To maintain acting family head dignity, I endured the pain with a straight face.
Not sure how long I could keep it up, I delegated cleanup and headed to the hall.
Turning toward my room, I spotted Luke standing in the middle of the corridor.
"Young Master...!"
He'd watched the whole thing—tears welled in his eyes.
I'd told him to ice up, but worry must've drawn him after.
Comforting him now would dispel the scoundrel image clinging to Heinz.
But ditching that image was premature.
"What're you dawdling for? Drawing room's a mess—gonna clean it? Ah, you want fired?"
"Sorry! I'll clean it right away!"
Luke dashed off, tears drying.
His loyalty visibly up, I smiled in satisfaction.
The wise scoundrel life had begun.