Chapter 1
Chapter 1
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Reborn as a Scoundrel
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I opened my eyes.
“Ugh…!”
My whole body ached as if it had been shattered into pieces, and a groan escaped my lips.
“Young Master, are you awake?!”
Young Master?
Turning my head, I saw a white-haired old gentleman looking down at me, his eyes filled with worry.
“Who… Ugh!”
My head throbbed so intensely I couldn't finish my sentence.
It felt as if someone had split my skull with an axe.
“Young Master, you’re awake. Thank goodness, truly.”
The old gentleman seemed so relieved that his eyes welled up with tears.
What happened?
Who is that old man…?
I tried to recall my memories.
‘I was on my way to the convenience store… Ah?’
Suddenly, the final moment came back to me.
*Screech, crash!*
*Vroom!*
A massive truck, flying over the guardrail.
It was a truck with the three-pointed star, the mark of Mercedes-Benz, emblazoned on it…
My memory cut off just before the truck hit me.
‘Did I get run over?’
I couldn't be sure if I was or not.
But the probability was very high, and if so, the probability of death was also quite high.
Considering the size of the truck, it was hard to even imagine surviving.
Honestly, who could expect to survive being hit by a truck like that?
In that case, I must be dead.
‘But this doesn't seem like the afterlife…’
I wasn't sure what gave me that impression, but the thought occurred to me.
“Young Master, are you all right?”
“My, my head… It hurts so much…”
“Please don’t get up. Just lie down.”
The old gentleman gently pressed down on my head and placed a cool, wet towel on my forehead.
“You’ll feel better soon, Young Master.”
“Ugh!”
“You mustn’t get up yet, Young Master. Your bones haven’t fully healed. One wrong move, and you might never walk again.”
Who is he?
A doctor would have no reason to call me ‘Young Master’.
I studied the old gentleman’s face carefully.
Uh, who was he again?
His face seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite place it.
“You, go and inform His Grace the Grand Duke that the Young Master has awakened.”
“Yes, Lord Maranello.”
The maid who had brought the basin of cold water and the towel hurried away.
Wait, Maranello?
I knew that name.
Maranello was the name of a character from [Overlord], a game I used to play.
Overlord was a game set in another world where you chose one of thirteen lords, developed your character, managed your territory, and vied for control of the kingdom.
Maranello was a close aide to one of Overlord’s main characters, [Frey van Sigmund].
‘He’s identical.’
The old gentleman called Lord Maranello was a 100% match to the Maranello in my memory.
‘Does this make any sense? Am I crazy? Or is this a dream? Why is a game character standing in front of me?’
I was completely bewildered, unable to make any logical sense of the situation.
“His Grace the Grand Duke is here.”
Tall, with broad shoulders.
A middle-aged man with features so handsome that the term ‘dashing’ hardly did him justice appeared and spoke to me.
“I heard you’ve awakened.”
Just like Maranello, he too was a character from my memories.
‘Guntram van Sigmund.’
The 12th head of the Sigmund Family and the Grand Duke of the Nürburg Kingdom.
He was also the father of the main character, Frey.
“Hah!”
A disbelieving laugh escaped me.
First Maranello, and now Guntram?
What next, Frey and his sister Selena are going to show up… Speak of the devil.
The main character, Frey, and his older sister, Selena, the eldest daughter of the Sigmund Family, appeared.
“You find this amusing?”
Guntram’s voice was cold and stern.
“Ah, that’s not it…”
“You should have stayed unconscious.”
“Excuse me?”
What… what a cruel thing to say.
“It would have been better if you had never woken up at all.”
With those harsh words, Guntram left the room as if there was nothing more to see.
“Take care… of yourself.”
“Still, I’m glad you’re awake. Get some rest.”
The eldest daughter, Selena, and the protagonist, Frey, also left after offering only perfunctory words.
…What is this situation?
Game characters are appearing before my eyes, and as if being in pain isn’t bad enough, I’m getting the cold shoulder.
“Young Master Carlyle.”
Maranello spoke, his tone full of pity.
“Please don’t pay it any mind. They are all just very disappointed. In their hearts, they are all worried about you.”
“Carlyle? I’m Carlyle?”
An unexpected name had come from Maranello’s lips.
If it’s [Carlyle]…
“A mirror, get me a mirror.”
“Here you are.”
“Ah. Hmm.”
The face in the mirror was completely unfamiliar.
Shimmering silver hair, violet eyes, slightly reddish lips, and a high-bridged nose.
He was a handsome young man, so striking it wouldn't be strange to blurt out how good-looking he was.
Carlyle van Sigmund.
The older brother of one of the main characters, Frey, and the second son of the Sigmund Family.
The problem was that Carlyle was an unparalleled scoundrel, considered the shame of the family.
Furthermore, Carlyle never appeared in the game; his presence was known only through a few lines of dialogue.
Because…
‘Carlyle is supposed to be dead, isn't he?’
Carlyle had died ten years before the start of the main character Frey’s scenario.
What was the cause of death again?
I searched my memory for how Carlyle had died.
‘He caused some huge trouble, fled in the middle of the night, and fell off his horse. Tumbled right off a cliff. He received treatment for a month before finally dying.’
If my memory was correct, that meant I had become Carlyle and just woken up in his sickbed.
“…This is straight out of a novel.”
A dry laugh escaped me before I knew it.
To die by truck and become a character in a game?
And not even one of the protagonists like Frey, but a character who’s already dead.
“Young Master, are you all right?”
“No, I’m not.”
I answered Maranello’s question truthfully and then closed my eyes, deciding to just let things happen as they may.
*Ding!*
[Carlyle van Sigmund]
Race: Human
Age: 23
Status: Noble
Occupation: Unemployed (Scoundrel)
Traits: (Reset)
Title: Scoundrel of the North
Oh great, a status window too?
Appearance +999 / Charm 222
Infamy 311 / Reputation –99 / Trust –99
Affinity 1
(…Omitted)
‘…Go away.’
*Swoosh*, the status window disappeared.
Status window or whatever, I didn’t want to see a thing right now.
I needed time alone.
Time to accept this ridiculous situation.
* * *
A month passed.
By now, Carlyle’s body had recovered enough for him to walk.
*Chirp, chirp, chirp!*
Carlyle strolled through the garden where birds were chirping, lost in thought.
“It’s Young Master Carlyle. Lower your eyes.”
“L-Let’s go the other way.”
The maids who happened to cross Carlyle’s path scurried away as if they had encountered the plague.
Carlyle paid no mind to their reactions.
It wasn't like this was the first or second day he’d been treated like a scoundrel.
Even his own family didn’t treat him like a human being.
‘Well, what can you do? Since it’s come to this, I’ll just have to live with it.’
Carlyle had already come to terms with the fact that he had become a character in a game.
A part of him even thought it was for the best.
‘My old life was a wreck anyway. Maybe this is better.’
Carlyle had no lingering attachments to his past life.
Why?
Because it had been a life of failure in family, money, love, and friendship.
The reason he’d started playing Overlord was that he’d become so weary of life, given up on everything, and was living as a recluse.
Because of that, this new life didn’t seem so bad.
‘Rich family, handsome face. Isn’t this a life worth living?’
Besides, he quite liked being a scoundrel.
Perhaps because he had been socially weak in his past life, living as the scoundrel of a noble family felt incredibly liberating.
The fact that no one really scolded him for acting however he pleased.
Not having to worry about what anyone thought—he liked that part.
What was even better was that no one had any expectations of him.
So Carlyle didn’t have to struggle to meet the expectations of those around him or of society.
When even his own father, Guntram, had long since given up on him, who would expect anything?
‘They’ll probably just be grateful if I don’t cause any trouble. I like it.’
Carlyle thought that alone made this life worthwhile.
And so, he came to a conclusion…
‘What the hell.’
Not ‘I was born, so I’ll live,’ but rather…
‘I was possessed, so I’ll live.’
Since it had come to this, he decided to live as the game’s scoundrel.
As Carlyle van Sigmund, the second son of the Sigmund Family.
* * *
Carlyle spent his days idly, letting time drift by.
It was a monotonous routine, but it wasn’t the least bit boring.
Getting a full twelve hours of sleep, enjoying gourmet meals three times a day, taking walks in the fresh air, and occasionally reading a book—it was an incomparably peaceful and comfortable existence.
On top of that, with servants and maids attending to his every need, life itself was incredibly convenient.
‘Right, this is how life should be. Is there any need to live so fiercely?’
And so he continued to practice the life of a loafer, satisfied with his current existence.
While Carlyle was enjoying refreshments on the terrace, the butler, Maranello, approached and spoke cautiously.
“Um, Young Master.”
“Yes?”
“His Grace the Grand Duke… plans to hold a trial concerning you.”
“A trial?”
Carlyle furrowed his brow as if to ask what kind of nonsense this was.
“What do I have to be put on trial for? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Young Master.”
Maranello’s voice was somewhat stern.
“Have you forgotten?”
“What?”
“While drunk, you cut down and killed one of the domain’s residents.”
Carlyle couldn’t believe his ears.
“I… killed someone? Me?”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“Ha.”
A hollow laugh escaped Carlyle’s lips.
“He really was a piece of work.”