“Young master, please wake up! It’s time for your medicine!”
My eyes snapped open at the unfamiliar voice.
An unfamiliar ceiling.
As annoyingly clichéd as the description is, nothing else came to mind.
I raised my body from the strangely plush bed. The room’s scenery came into view, and my eyes widened.
Where is this?
It definitely wasn’t the studio apartment I lived in.
Various artworks hung on stone walls, with antique wooden furniture placed here and there.
No matter how I looked, it wasn’t a room that seemed to exist in South Korea.
Vaguely, it reminded me of a similar style from a movie set in early modern Europe.
“…Young master? Are you alright?”
The sweet voice that woke me tickled my ears again. Still dazed as I looked around, I finally shifted my gaze to where the voice came from.
Purple hair, green eyes, a youthful face. A girl who looked roughly mid-to-late teens.
Examining her features, she didn’t seem Korean. But not quite Western either—it was hard to pinpoint any specific race.
What concerned me more was that she was wearing a maid outfit. The kind that often appears in comics or novels.
“…A dream?”
The thought suddenly occurred, so I pinched my cheek, and a clear pain shot through.
“Are you still not fully awake, young master?”
“Young master, me… no, I mean, I?”
“Y-Young master? Why are you suddenly using honorifics with this girl… Are you pranking me again?”
The maid in front of me suddenly started shrinking back with an expression like she was terribly sorry.
Seeing that, I frowned. An unpleasant possibility had crossed my mind.
Is this some hidden camera prank?
But was there anyone who would go to such trouble to mess with me? There were a few suspects, but the likelihood was low.
I spoke cautiously.
“Um… I have one thing I want to ask you.”
“You… Young master, have you perhaps forgotten Linia’s name? You did injure your head recently, but until yesterday, there was no problem!”
It seemed her name was Linia. More importantly, I injured my head? I didn’t know the details, but if she became uncooperative, I’d be in trouble. For now, let’s match the atmosphere.
“…Sorry, Linia. As you said, I must not be fully awake. So, can I ask just one thing?”
“Yes, please speak.”
“Who do you think I am to call me young master?”
At my question, Linia made an endlessly mysterious expression.
“Of course, you are the second son of His Excellency Grand Duke Foden Stroke, who rules this principality. Is there any problem, Young Master Aiden?”
She seemed curious why I was suddenly asking this. But her reaction was the least of my concerns.
Stroke Grand Duke.
Aiden.
Hearing those familiar keywords, one possibility came to mind. An idea any print-addicted reader who spends all day on web novels would think of.
“…No way.”
Feeling the dissonance, I got up and stood in front of the full-body mirror in the corner of the room.
And I lost my words.
“This… is me?”
In the mirror stood not my usual self, but some pig.
The owner of a visual that looked like it would roll away if kicked. Shocked, I stood frozen for a while, then felt one question.
Come to think of it, how was I communicating with Linia, who looked foreign? Had we been speaking Korean all this time?
No.
I was naturally understanding and speaking a language I’d never heard or seen in my life.
Could this be.
Even to myself, it sounded crazy.
But still, this was the only explanation.
“Linia. Do you happen to know what year, month, and day it is in Dragon God Calendar?”
A question no sane modern person would understand. But she opened her mouth without much hesitation.
“Today is January 11, 981. Is there any problem, young master?”
As expected.
A calendar system that doesn’t exist in reality, the Dragon God Calendar, works just fine. And there are 13 months, not on Earth’s calendar. Above all, my appearance has changed to a man with extreme obesity I’ve never seen before.
From this, one fact was clear. This place is the world of the web novel I witnessed the epilogue of the day before, Chronicles of the Recaf Sicily Continent.
And about 7 years before the original story begins.
The second son of the Stroke Grand Duke family, Aiden.
To me, this guy is a character from my love-hate novel, Chronicles of the Recaf Sicily Continent.
Coincidentally, since he has the same name as my nickname, I remember him clearly. But in truth, Aiden’s proportion in the novel is extremely small.
That’s because in the main story’s timeline, he’s already dead. His existence is only mentioned in a few passages; he doesn’t even appear directly. He’s more of a setting character than an actual one.
Given the circumstances, there’s only one thing I know about Aiden. I don’t know specifically what he did, but he was called a tremendous wastrel in life.
Anyway, a full day has passed since I possessed that wastrel.
I calmly accepted that this situation was neither a dream nor a hidden camera.
Hard to believe, but what can you do about the reality in front of you.
They say when unreality exceeds the threshold, you become numb instead—and this is exactly that.
“Here is tea from Mount Robe, young master.”
I took the tea offered by my personal maid Linia and sipped it lightly; sweetness spread throughout my mouth. This felt more like hot chocolate than tea. Does Aiden usually enjoy drinking this?
Having replenished some sugar, I slowly recalled memories.
Clearly, just before waking up here, I was furious after seeing the lousy epilogue of Reca Chronicles and left a long comment.
Then, the author NonameC invited me to a chat room and proposed that I participate in remaking Reca Chronicles.
Right after that, I lost consciousness.
And woke up inside the novel.
Looking at the before and after, it’s clear that NonameC, the author of Reca Chronicles, sent me here by some means. And the intention was easy to guess.
“…So, this means you’re telling me to run around myself and remake the content of Reca Chronicles, right?”
Come to think of it, the situation I’m facing now is similar to the introduction used in genre novels commonly called ‘possession stories.’ I never imagined I’d experience such a common cliché myself.
Me?
Doubts swelled up.
What exactly is NonameC to be able to do something this absurd?
If they were that incredible to begin with, there’d be no need to entrust the remake of the novel to someone like me.
I thought about it for a moment, but with no additional information now, pondering it wouldn’t yield a clear answer.
Linia tilted her head, looking at me frowning.
“Why are you like that, young master? Since yesterday, you’ve been asking strange questions, talking to empty air, could it be that the head injury from last time is now causing problems…”
Come to think of it, she mentioned yesterday too that I injured my head.
From what she just said, it seems Aiden was hit on the head by someone, but thinking about it, it’s strange. Who would dare hit the second son of a grand duke?
“Who did I get hit on the head by?”
“Huh? Do you perhaps not remember?”
“Don’t worry about the minor stuff. Just tell me who hit me and why. Thoroughly, with all the context.”
At my request, Linia made a puzzled expression but explained clearly.
“
Y-Young master, you were involved in drug distribution within the principality and got your tail caught by investigators not long ago. Hearing that, His Excellency the Grand Duke, in rage, hit you on the head, and you collapsed—that was three days ago.”
“………”
If the grand duke himself stepped in, I have nothing to say.
By the way, involved in drug trafficking? A guy who doesn’t even appear in the main story had such a terrifying backstory. Truly worthy of being called a wastrel.
And the karma that wastrel built up—from now on, I, the possessor, will have to bear it all.
It was unfair, but on the other hand, I thought it was somewhat bearable.
In truth, I had no particular attachment to my real life. No family to rely on, no close acquaintances, no vision for the future.
But here?
The character I possessed, Aiden, is an incredible golden spoon.
Though his reputation among the principality’s people has fallen through the ground, pierced the mantle, and is rushing toward the inner core in real time, he’s still the grand duke’s son.
If he decides to reform his behavior, he can live in luxury for life, and most things he wants, he can have due to his status.
Moreover, I have one special advantage that makes even such an incredible background pale.
That I, before possession, poured tremendous passion into Reca Chronicles.
It wasn’t just liking it normally. My knowledge about this novel was, with some exaggeration, almost at the level of a master’s or doctor’s in a field.
Information directly presented in the work.
Character sheets posted in the author’s notes.
Background settings posted in notices.
I had once organized and supplemented all those scattered settings to create a chronology of the Reca Chronicles worldview.
“…And I still remember the contents of that chronology without missing anything.”
If I properly utilize the abundant knowledge in my head, anything is possible.
Moreover, I can fulfill my personal wish. Recover the countless foreshadows that didn’t see the light in this work and reach a proper ending through them.
Yes.
In the end, I was a devoted reader of the novel Chronicles of the Recaf Sicily Continent. More than anything else, the fact that I could remake this novel with my own hands made me purely happy.
“This is worth trying.”
I sorted out information in my mind that could be effectively used.
For now, it’s about 7 years before the main story begins.
Then, among the events that will occur in the Stroke Principality in the 7 years before the main story starts, what should I pay the most attention to.
The death of the current Grand Duke Foden.
The third son of the Stroke family, Ridley, succeeds his deceased father to the grand duke position in August 985… that is, 4 years from now.
And if things flow that way, Aiden is scheduled to die within 4 years at the latest. There’s no way the third son would inherit the title while the second son is alive and well.
The problem is that I don’t know the exact reason this pig dies.
In the novel, it was just mentioned as ‘The Stroke family was succeeded by the third son because both the eldest and second sons died.’
“For now, figuring out why the original Aiden died is the top priority.”
Having set an immediate goal, I unconsciously smiled. Even to myself, I was adapting to this unrealistic situation too quickly.
Then, the pig reflected in the mirror also trembled the flesh around its mouth with a triumphant air.
Wait, is that a smile?
Maybe because of the obesity, it’s hard to distinguish emotional expressions. Suddenly becoming aware, this body buried in flesh felt unbearably stifling.
“…For now, should I lose some weight.”