Chapter 1: Me? (1)

Even though he hadn’t wished for it at all.

Possession!

Some might rejoice at the thought.

A new body, a new life, a new family—all handed to you!

But not for Han-ol Lee.

Cautiousness. Safety-first mentality.

Words that encapsulated Han-ol Lee’s life.

He valued his life, health, and stability above all else.

Even if it was a bit tough, he wanted to live carefully, quietly, without danger.

He avoided injustice, steered clear of risky situations as much as possible.

When eating Chinese food with others, he’d always go for sweet-and-sour pork first; when shopping, he’d never miss a chance to earn membership points; he’d always add chives and pickled radish to his soup; and even in summer, he’d take scalding hot showers.

The epitome of an ordinary man.

Yet he’d never admit to being an ordinary man, and that completed the picture.

But possession!

At first, he denied it, then he was angry, then he bargained, and finally, he accepted it.

He had become Evan Alkart, the early Act 2 boss from his favorite medieval fantasy RPG game.

It took nine months to come to terms with this fact.

It wasn’t because he was an ordinary man.

It was because the body he’d possessed was too frail.

Evan Alkart.

The weakest boss in the Act 2 episode.

The narrative and concept weren’t bad.

A rare profession, ‘Alchemist,’ addicted to the drugs he made himself, and bound by a terminal condition.

[‘Evan Alkart’ is the second son of a ducal family. Once the child of the duke’s most beloved concubine, he was abandoned by the duke after her death.

To resurrect his mother, he learned ‘Alchemy,’ but in his haste, he violated taboos and lost his sight.

In the end, he became a madman who fused humans together.]

A vivid backstory that evoked pity.

Yes.

That was true when viewed from a third-person perspective.

But living it himself? It was indescribably awful.

Nickname: Pufferfish.

Lowest difficulty.

Constantly fainting and vomiting.

The epitome of weakness.

So, to survive, he took extreme measures.

Survival Rule #1.

Never step forward!

It wasn’t out of fear.

It was all for safety.

Survival was important, after all.

Evan’s alchemy included ‘golem creation.’

He made golems before potions and quietly controlled them from his room.

The goal was to gather materials through golems to create an elixir to heal his body.

Fortunately, he knew the recipe for the elixir.

Three months passed with newfound confidence.

One year into possession.

Evan realized.

This wasn’t going to work.

For material gathering, the main storyline had to progress.

But at that point?

The world was already hurtling toward catastrophe.

The player’s goal was to prevent the world’s destruction.

Could Evan progress the main storyline now?

Impossible.

Even if he could, he didn’t want to.

Was this just any world?

One misstep could lead to death by falling, poisoning, assassination, or being torn apart by monsters.

A harsh world.

Throwing himself into such dangers wasn’t something a real man would do!

Wasn’t there someone he could delegate this to?

Fortunately, the world didn’t just tell him to die.

A dramatic solution came to mind.

The main allies who played significant roles in the story’s progression.

Why not leave it to them?

The main allies weren’t absolute paragons of virtue.

But they didn’t desire the world’s destruction.

This was why he didn’t consider the more capable ‘villains’ as options.

There was no need to go through the trouble of reforming villains.

The flaws and shortcomings of the main allies? Evan could fix those easily enough.

The possibility was there.

The only concern was that he hadn’t played the DLC.

But that should be fine, right?

The DLC was a side story.

The developers had announced it didn’t affect the main storyline.

So, it shouldn’t matter.

The first person he chose was the Saintess.

For various reasons.

Lowest persuasion difficulty.

The continent’s greatest healing ability.

A social butterfly with vast connections.

Once he persuaded the Saintess, convincing the other allies would be easier.

She was that much of a socialite.

If worst came to worst, she could save his life.

So, for ten days.

Evan finally completed it.

The letter and potions to send to the Saintess.

***

“Young Master! It’s time to wake up!”

Evan slowly opened his eyes.

A luxurious wooden ceiling and the room’s scenery.

It was now a familiar sight—Evan Alkart’s room.

Ugh. Anemia.

His vision whitened.

A sensation he’d grown accustomed to.

Pressing his aching head, Evan greeted the servant.

“Good morning, Dolph.”

“G-Good morning to you too, Young Master…!”

Dolph, the servant, was moved to tears by the morning greeting.

In truth, this was a huge improvement.

In the past, Dolph would have had a fit just for being spoken to politely.

The crybaby servant, Dolph.

Currently, the person closest and most trustworthy to Evan.

So why use polite speech?

Ahem. Just in case he accidentally poisons my food.

Before possession, Evan was quite the scoundrel.

This was to improve relationships or perceptions, even slightly.

It didn’t seem to work very well, though.

“Dolph, could you bring me some stationery and a fountain pen?”

“Yes, Young Master! Who are you writing to?”

“To the Saintess.”

“Yes! The Saintess… Wait, what?!”

Dolph’s face screamed, What does that mean?

Evan averted his gaze and quickly scribbled on the stationery.

Thankfully, he’d long grown accustomed to writing.

He’d practiced diligently, and his elegant handwriting filled him with pride.

If I add this phrase, it’ll be a sure hit.

Since she might not open the letter, he wrote the key phrase on the outside.

– Until the moon sets, we are firebirds that do not weep, holy steeds that leave no hoofprints.

He didn’t know what it meant, but this single phrase could push the Saintess’s favorability past 90.

This was a big reason why he chose her as the first target.

Her favorability was the easiest to raise.

“Send this letter along with the crimson potion on my desk to the temple.”

“But, Young Master… Yes… Understood…”

Dolph, teary-eyed, tried to dissuade him but eventually gave up.

He must have thought Evan’s illness was that severe.

That’s not it…!

No matter how pathetic Evan was, he was still an alchemist.

He could at least make a potion to alleviate his condition.

Now, I should send a letter to the next main ally.

Of course, he was still sick, but he’d adapted, so it was fine—

Cough!

Splatter!

Evan coughed violently. Blood splattered heavily on his hand and the white bedding.

A reaction surged from his body—no, his soul.

He grabbed the bell by the bedside and shook it frantically.

Ding-a-ling!

“Physician! Where’s the physician?!”

“The Young Master’s coughing up blood! Physician! Priest! Someone, come quick!”

Human blood is spilling!

***

At Sun Mountain, known as the closest to the sun.

At the main temple of the Sun Church, located at its peak.

The Knight Commander handed a letter to the Saintess, who was praying alone in the vast prayer hall.

“Saintess, a letter has arrived.”

“Thank you, Knight Commander.”

“It’s my duty to serve you, Saintess.”

With a benevolent smile, the Knight Commander watched the Saintess take the letter, harboring a small question.

Why did she accept it?

The sender was the second son of the Alkart ducal family.

The family wasn’t bad.

They consistently sent donations and maintained good relations with the imperial family.

Rumors of ties to the underworld?

Minor.

The problem was the second son himself.

A somewhat famous figure.

Mostly in a bad way.

A drug addict and a scoundrel, wasn’t he?

Rumor had it that, as an alchemist, he even dabbled in making drugs.

An alchemist…

A rare profession on the continent.

Not particularly impressive.

All they did was make potions.

It inspired neither respect nor pity.

For the past year, he’d been quiet, as if repenting.

But just one year.

How much could he have changed?

Certainly not enough to warrant the Saintess’s attention…

That’s when it happened.

“Heh heh heh.”

The Saintess, reading the letter, let out a chuckle.

A beautiful yet chilling smile formed.

“Saintess?”

“Could you step back for a moment?”

“Yes, Saintess.”

The Knight Commander left, and the Saintess stared intently at the letter alone.

The contents of the letter weren’t particularly important.

What mattered was the phrase written on the outside.

– Until the moon sets, we are firebirds that do not weep, holy steeds that leave no hoofprints.

How does he know this phrase, known only to me and my god?

Evan Alkart, a mere overlooked second son, shouldn’t know it.

Did the Sun create a new apostle?

No, that couldn’t be.

The only apostle directly chosen by the Sun was Adrianna.

Then—

Does he know all my plans?

Someone who saw through all her plans had appeared.

The Saintess of the Sun, Adrianna Saint.

Known for her benevolent nature and devout character.

There was no lie in that.

Except for one thing.

If you excluded the truth she kept hidden.

How does he know my plan to bring my Sun into this world?

The descent of the Sun.

She had quietly schemed for this, manipulating the Sun Church from behind.

The mastermind controlling the temple from the shadows.

That was the true identity of Adrianna Saint, hidden behind the mask of the devout Saintess.

Even the cure for my illness, which I couldn’t find…

The murky crimson potion included.

It could, even if only slightly, treat the curse she’d suffered from for so long.

“Heh, heh heh. Interesting.”

The Saintess, feigning calm, had cold sweat dripping from her forehead.

A warning? Or mockery? Is my plan that flawed?

It didn’t seem well-intentioned.

Not meeting in person and sending only a letter.

Blatantly inscribing that precious phrase.

It felt like a taunt, as if her plans were pathetic.

Crumple—

The letter in her hand was crushed.

It was like her crumpled pride.

I need to find out.

The Saintess, Adrianna, resolved.

Was this a coincidence?

If not, how much did Evan know?

Was Evan the true ‘mastermind’ manipulating everything from above?

She had to find out, no matter what.