HTBOABDWAV – 1

“Cat got your tongue?”

This whole situation was…

“So, how does it feel to finally meet the suitor you’ve been so desperately avoiding?”

“…You’re ‘that Grand Duke Leppert’?”

It was one of those painfully cliché situations—‘Turns out the blind date I’d been blowing off for the past month was someone I already knew.’

“Now that’s what we call fate.”

His crimson eyes, as red as his temper, narrowed into slits. His finger swiped away some whipped cream on her nose—she had accidentally smeared it in her surprise—his gesture left her with a ticklish sensation.

After cleaning her nose, the lunatic pulled out a tissue and proceeded to practically scrub his hand raw before opening his mouth again.

“Since it’s come to this, I guess this leaves us no choice.”

“W-What do you mean?”

Black hair fluttered in the spring breeze and tickled her cheek. For the record, Jeryll’s hair was silver.

Which meant that lunatic was right in front of her.

Standing close enough she could feel his breath, the novel’s villain, Carian Leppert, whispered with devilish sweetness,

“We’re leaving to pay a visit to your family.”

“Pardon?”

“If we’re going to have the ceremony in May, the schedule will be tight.”

No sh*t, since today’s the last day of April, you psycho!

‘How the hell did this happen?’

She was just supposed to be a one-off extra who dies on a blind date!

“Then again, we don’t need guests, should we just get our wedding officiated now?”

Mischief sparkled in his eyes.

Seeing as he hadn’t drawn a sword the moment he sat down, she had avoided death for the time being. The problem was, this bastard was rotten to the core.

‘What’s the point of dodging the current death flag, if just being near him is like russian roulette?!’

After all, in the original story, Carian Leppert was a notorious murderer.

The kind of lunatic who wouldn’t hesitate to kill his own family or friends on a whim.

Despite that, his abilities were so over-powered as a villain that he was a constant thorn in the main characters’ sides.

“Jeryll Rubian. Any thoughts?”

Maybe it was just because those piercing red eyes were boring into her, but the excuse she’d been saving as a last resort suddenly burst out.

“I-I have a boyfriend!”

“…What?”

Of course, if she’d known what would happen next, she’d never have said it.

* * *

“My lady, another letter came for you.”

“Burn it! No, wait—bring it here. I’ll burn it myself!”

“But, this one bears the Leppert Grand Duchy’s seal…”

Jeryll was on the verge of a breakdown. It had been a full month since she’d started brushing off her blind date with Grand Duke Carian Leppert, and the novel’s villain.

“If you continue to ignore him, I‘m worried he might just storm in. Why not try meeting him once? I’ve heard His Grace the Grand Duke’s looks are as handsome as his nature is crazy.”

That’s exactly the problem, his nature…

‘Jeryll Rubian’ was merely an extra in <The Saintess’ Blade Faces the Crown Prince>.

A novel she’d read over twenty years ago. It started with the Saintess swearing revenge on the Emperor who had killed her twin. But after she fell in love with the Emperor’s son, the Crown Prince, the revenge fizzled out, leaving the ending feeling anticlimactic.

The author claimed the moral was ‘Love triumphs over hatred’ or whatever.

‘The Saintess’ poor twin, got killed for no good reason.’

But right now, Jeryll didn’t care about some nameless Saintess’ twin nor the main characters.

“Don’t worry so much. It’s not like His Grace the Grand Duke would kill you, would he?”

“He would.”

“Ha, you’re so funny, my lady.”

It wasn’t a joke.

Grand Duke Leppert, the story’s villain, suffered from madness and often killed people.

Jeryll was supposed to be one of those people, instantly cut down by the Grand Duke, all because of that madness.

‘I nearly fainted when I remembered that little tidbit.’

When her twenty-four-year-old mind had first woken up in the body of a newborn, she’d wondered if this was going to be some fluffy childcare story.

But in reality she just was an orphan abandoned in front of the temple, an extra destined for an early death.

Still, survival was a basic human instinct.

Following that instinct, Jeryll had avoided the blind date at all costs. But two weeks ago, the letters started coming—so many they were practically a terror campaign.

‘Normally if you say you can’t make it to a blind date, the other person says “Oh, I see” and leaves you alone, right?’

The Grand Duke, however, grilled her persistently with each letter, demanding to know the exact reason.

Very, very persistently!

“Bell, by what age do Royals have to get married?”

“Twenty-seven, I think.”

“And how old is the Grand Duke Leppert?”

“Twenty-six, my lady. Come to think of it, if he’s still unmarried next year, he’ll be stripped of his royal status.”

Damn Imperial law.

But why is the Grand Duke so insistent on it being her?

If it was just about keeping his title, he could pick anyone.

‘Is this one of those “You’re the first woman to ever reject me” situations?’

Except in this case, it would be: “You’re the first woman to ever reject me—now die.”

Pouting, Jeryll picked up the neatly arranged stack of letters Bell had sorted in chronological order.

Dear Lady Rubian.
I heard you declined the blind date arranged by the Grand Duchy. I understand the sudden proposal might be unsettling, but I ask once more that you meet me tomorrow at 1 p.m. at the café in front of the square.

I obviously didn’t go.

Regardless, at that time, Jeryll clung to her sense of courtesy and sent a reply.

To His Grace, Grand Duke Leppert.
My deepest apologies, but I’m not feeling well, so it would be difficult to attend. I sincerely hope Your Grace finds a wonderful partner.

The reply she received the next day was outrageous.

Dear Lady Rubian.
So that’s what happen. However, my loyal butler tells me he saw you frolicking through the streets like a wild colt, so perhaps you should drop the excuses.

It seemed His Grace, the Villain had exhausted his tiny reservoir of patience in that first letter.

‘That’s when the letter-bombing began.’

Dear Lady Rubian.
It’s been days without a reply—should I be worried that you’ve broken your fingers this time…

Dear Lady Rubian…

Dear Lady Rubi…

Dear Lady…

.

.

.

How long are you planning on ignoring me?

By now, all traces of polite speech had vanished from his writing. The most recent one hadn’t even included her name.

At this point Jeryll started to worried that she had been creating new death flags, rather than dodging them—but by now it was already too late.

If I’m going to die anyways, I might as well prolong it for as long as possible!

Around that time is when the letters suddenly stopped.

That was exactly three days ago.

‘Why the hell did he send another one now?!’

Her hand trembled with a mix of fear and fury as she reached toward Bell.

“…Could you give me the letter that came today?”

Her light blue eyes dulled with gloom. Combined with her sunlit silver hair, she looked the picture of a tragic heroine.

Jeryll opened the envelope, which smelled faintly of something scorched.

“Did he lose his temper and burn part of it? Well, he is a red mage… I guess I should just be glad he didn’t roast me alive.”

In this world, magic was divided into three branches: common magic, red magic, and blue magic.

Common mages could use all kinds of spells, though with weak power. Red and blue mages, however, could surpass human limits in their specialized fields.

Red mages specialized in destructive magic, and were infamous for their tempers, which mirrored their abilities.

‘Right… in the novel it was that temper that got me killed.’

Shuddering at the thought of being roasted alive, Jeryll scanned the Grand Duke’s graceful handwriting.

For a moment, she felt relieved—the letter wasn’t packed with words.

It had been two weeks since she stopped responding and three days of radio silence.

The one thing written inside the letter was…

YOU.

No greeting, no pleasantries—just that one blunt word.

She was so f*cked.

In Jeryll’s mind, the word screamed loud enough to bring a sheen of tears to her eyes.

* * *

No matter how rough life got, it still went on.

And so, even with death looming overhead, Jeryll still had to go to work at the clinic.

She was waiting for the carriage, absentmindedly tearing up the innocent manor lawn, when a familiar voice called down from above.

“Hey, you off to that kid clinic again?”

“Yeah…”

“I don’t understand why you go so often when they don’t even pay you.”

“I’ve got some karma to clear…”

“You always say that. But seriously, why do you look so dead today? Did you forget your meds or something?”

The absolutely adorable looking young man squinted his bright red eyes at me.

Despite his sweet face, Leon, her younger brother and Marquess Rubian’s only bio-child, was an absolute demon inside.

Fortunately, Jeryll wasn’t the abused adoptee she’d been pre-transmigration. You could say she’d grown up facing perfect indifference, without any scolding or bullying.

‘Not that they adopted me for no reason.’

But that wasn’t the point right now.

She didn’t exactly crave familial love after transmigrating.

Life was a solo act anyway!

And survival? Also a solo job! The thought made her sink back into gloom.

“Hey, don’t go overdoing it again and come home passed out like last time.”

“…”

“You burn through your own life force to use magic, and yet you’re overflowing with useless compassion.”

Grumble Grumble.

I let Leon’s worry-packaged critics go in one ear and out the other, until a deep voice cut him off.

“Watch your tongue, Leon.”

It was the Marquess Rubian. Jeryll gave her adoptive father a polite bow.

Like the family name, his red eyes resembled rubies, though they were framed by a cold, impassive gaze that was always intimidating.

Here, the only person with blue eyes was Jeryll.

“But Leon’s not wrong. If you draw attention to that ability, it’ll only cause trouble.”

“…Yes, Father.”

“Always remember that you’re a long-lost blue mage.”

With that, he turned to leave. Leon immediately started muttering again, as if to say, ‘See? Told you so.’

“Did you hear that? If the Imperial Family finds out, they’ll work you to death as a healing machine, or worse—use you for experiments. And yet you have no fear at all.”

“I told you, a kid was dying, what was I supposed to do?”

“And a Saintess was born. How the hell did someone like you get born as a blue mage…”

Yeah, it was definitely an overpowered trait for an extra.

Unlike red mages, blue mages specialized in healing.

Because of the bouts of madness that afflicted only red and blue mages, blue mage lines had died out over a thousand years ago.

‘Getting found out would be a nightmare.’

So Jeryll had been living disguised as a common healing mage.

Not that being an extra with overpowered specs stopped there.

She turned her eyes toward the thing that had been shining above his head this whole time.

“What? Why are you staring at the top of my head like that?”

<SYSTEM>
[ Karma: 25 ]  

‘It’s even higher than yesterday. What the hell have you been up to, you brat?’

Jeryll could see people’s karma scores.

‘I wish I knew why I saw this. If it was a favorability rating I’d at least know what to do.’

Still, it had its perks—like avoiding any sketchy situations. She just had to avoid people whose level was 50 or more.

And if it ever reached 100…

“Are you even listening to me?”

Her thoughts were drifting darker and darker, when Leon pulled her out of it by snapping his fingers in front of her face.

“Gah, I’m going to be late for the clinic! I’m heading out now!”

“Ugh, just take care of yourself, will you? Hey, did you hear—”

She gave a vague nod and hopped into the carriage that had just arrived.

Whether Leon hated her or actually cared for her, Jeryll couldn’t tell.

But she didn’t hate the warmth, so she let herself forget the unpleasant image that had just flashed across her mind.

* * *

“Good work today, Miss Jeryll.”

“Glad there weren’t many sick kids. Well, I’ll be heading out.”

“Oh, and be careful. A serial killer escaped from prison, so the streets are a bit tense right now.”

“This is the heart of the capital. What could happen?”

Humming with the joy of finally going home, Jeryll stepped out of the clinic.

True to her personal motto of ‘live long, not loud’, she worked to ensure children enjoyed long, healthy lives.

In other words, she worked at a children’s clinic.

‘Kids really are the best.’

So much better than sh*tty adults.

Like Grand Duke Carian Leppert, for example, aka Grand Duke Main Villain, or just That Crazy Psycho.

She was mid-hum when—

Aaaagh!

A scream rang out from somewhere down the street.

Her coworker’s earlier warning flashed through her mind:

[A serial killer escaped…]

No, no friggin way.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a death flag.

And sure enough, she turned her head to see someone charging toward her, brandishing a knife.

‘Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…’

Despite the crowded street, the madman had his eyes locked right on her.

The blade—already stained with someone’s blood—glinted red in the light.

<SYSTEM>
[ Karma: 99 ] 

Her vision froze, registering the number.

‘Ninety-nine? How the f*ck do you get a number that high…’

Most criminals clocked in between 50 and 80 karma.

Meaning this lunatic was Grade-A Garbage.

Her body reacted before her brain could. She had to get away.

Her life was on the line, and if that number hit 100…

“Don’t move! Unless you want to die!”

Too late.

The tang of blood hit her nose. A cold blade pressed to her neck.

“No…”

Jeryll’s gaze snapped to the number above his head. Please, please…

<SYSTEM>
[ Karma: +1 ]
[ Karma: 100 ]
<SYSTEM OVER> 

But her desperate wish went unanswered. The karma hit 100.

Bang!

A gunshot rang out.

The attacker’s body jerked violently.

Warm liquid splashed down Jeryll’s legs just as she was pulled into someone’s firm chest.

“Pull yourself together.”

The acrid scent of gunpowder brushed her nose—or maybe it was something scorched.

When someone’s karma reached 100, they died.

“Ugh, why does it always happen right in front of me…”

Large hands shook her shoulder, snapping her from the edge of panic.

“Hey!”

From that harsh voice and rough touch came a wave of heat—raw, forceful heat that seemed to jar her sinking mind back to awareness.

Startled by its intensity, Jeryll’s head shot up.

‘What is this?’

Red eyes, flashing their owner’s temper, met hers.

It was like facing down a massive, black haired predator.

Tousled black hair framing piercing crimson eyes. The sharp, bold lines of his face only heightened the savagery of his gaze. His grip on her shoulders—hot enough to burn—was big enough to cover them completely.

Being fully aware of the absurdity, Jeryll still briefly feared that this man might sink his teeth right into her neck.

“If you’ve finally calmed down, stop being a nuisance and get out of my way.”

That completely overwhelming, violent aura…

‘…That same scorched smell.’

Exactly like the one that had clung to that letter.