For Me, She Would Kill Countless Versions of Herself
The moment I opened my eyes, an unfamiliar ceiling greeted me.
Soft morning light filtered through the window, and the faint scent of wood and ink lingered in the air. This wasn't my room. No, it wasn't even the same world I remembered falling asleep in.
I sat up slowly, my body feeling strangely light. My hands—smaller, smoother, with long elegant fingers—trembled as I examined them. This... this isn't my body.
A gentle voice called from beyond the sliding door.
"Young Master, are you awake? Breakfast is ready."
The voice was warm, familiar in a way that made my chest tighten. I knew that voice. It belonged to someone who had once been my everything.
I swallowed hard and answered in a voice that wasn't quite mine.
"...I'll be right there."
As I stood, memories that weren't my own flooded in like a tidal wave. This body belonged to a reclusive young master of a declining noble house in the kingdom of Cheonje. Lazy, unambitious, content to waste away reading books and avoiding the world's troubles. But now, I was him. Han Young-hoo had become this useless noble brat in an alternate universe set in the year 1000 AD.
And the woman who had just called me... she was here too. In this world, she went by the name of Haran. My devoted attendant. My shadow. My yandere.
I stepped out into the courtyard, where cherry blossoms drifted lazily on the breeze. Haran waited for me with a tray of simple yet elegant dishes—steamed rice, grilled fish, and pickled vegetables arranged with meticulous care. Her dark hair was tied back neatly, and her eyes... those eyes that could turn from gentle to terrifying in an instant... they softened the moment they met mine.
"Did you sleep well, Young Master?" she asked, her voice like silk over steel.
I nodded, forcing a casual smile. "Yeah. Thanks for preparing all this again."
She tilted her head slightly, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's only natural. Everything I do is for you."
Those words carried a weight that made the hair on my neck stand up. In my original world, Haran had been obsessed with me to the point of madness. Here, in this alternate history where wuxia and cultivation mingled with the politics of ancient Korea, China, and Japan, that obsession seemed even more dangerous. She had power here. Real power.
As we ate in comfortable silence—well, comfortable for her, nerve-wracking for me—I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The system messages that had followed me into this world were suspiciously quiet. No status windows, no quests, no snarky notifications about my laziness.
That was when it happened.
Warning: Alternate Timeline Convergence Detected
Multiple iterations of 'You' have begun to overlap.
Haran's devotion parameter has exceeded critical thresholds across 17 parallel instances.
She will eliminate all other versions of you to ensure only this timeline remains.
I nearly choked on my rice.
What the hell? She's going to kill countless mes just for this one me?
Haran looked up with innocent concern, dabbing at my lips with a handkerchief. "Young Master, are you alright? You seem pale."
"I'm... fine," I managed, my mind racing. In this world of martial artists and scheming clans, Haran wasn't just some obsessive girl. She was a hidden master, a cultivator who had reached realms that could make entire sects tremble. And now that power was aimed at protecting me—by erasing every other version of me across realities.
I had to stop her. But how do you reason with someone whose love is a weapon of mass destruction?
Later that afternoon, as I pretended to read in the study, I caught her humming softly while sharpening a dagger that looked far too ornate for simple household chores. The melody was haunting, like a funeral dirge mixed with a love song.
She noticed me watching and smiled that terrifyingly sweet smile.
"Young Master, do you remember what you told me last spring? That you wished the world would leave you alone so we could be together forever."
I didn't remember saying that. This body's memories were still fuzzy. But I could guess what the previous owner might have said in a moment of laziness.
"Yeah... about that," I started carefully. "Maybe I was being a bit dramatic—"
"No," she interrupted softly, her eyes gleaming with an intensity that belonged in a cultivation novel's final boss. "You were right. The other worlds, the other yous... they're just noise. Distractions. I'll make sure nothing ever bothers you again. I'll carve out a perfect eternity where only this you exists. For you, I will kill as many as it takes."
The way she said it—so matter-of-fact, so devoted—sent chills down my spine. This wasn't the lighthearted harem story I'd expected when I got isekai'd. This was dark romance wrapped in wuxia action, with a yandere who could probably solo an entire imperial army if it meant keeping me safe.
I needed a plan. Fast.
That night, as the moon hung high over the Cheonje capital, I slipped out of bed and found her standing on the rooftop, staring at the stars. Her qi surged around her like invisible flames—jade-green energy that whispered of realms beyond what most mortals could comprehend.
Haran's qi circulates at the Peak of the Transcendent Realm. The air itself bends to her will. One thought from her could unravel the threads connecting parallel timelines.
She turned to me, her expression softening instantly.
"You should be sleeping, Young Master. The night air is cold."
I took a deep breath. "Haran... you don't have to do this. Killing other versions of me... that would hurt me more than anything."
For a moment, doubt flickered across her face. Then her eyes hardened with that obsessive devotion I knew all too well.
"If it hurts you, then I'll find another way. But I won't let them take you from me. Not again. In the last timeline, you died because I wasn't strong enough. I won't make that mistake twice."
Her words hit like a punch to the gut. So this wasn't her first time traversing these realities. How many times had she watched me die? How many versions of me had she already lost?
The weight of her love felt suffocating. Beautiful. Terrifying.
I reached out and took her hand. It was ice cold despite the warmth of her qi.
"Then stay with this me," I said softly. "Protect this timeline without destroying the others. We can figure this out together. I'm not going anywhere."
She stared at me for a long moment, then leaned her head against my shoulder. The gesture was so vulnerable, so unlike the deadly cultivator she was, that it almost broke my heart.
"As you wish, Young Master. But if any other version tries to cross over... I won't hesitate."
I sighed internally. Of course you won't.
As we stood there under the stars, I realized this was only the beginning. A reclusive master in an alternate universe, a yandere attendant willing to slaughter infinite versions of her beloved, and a lazy guy who just wanted to read books and avoid drama.
The world of Cheonje stretched out before us—full of political intrigue, martial sects, hidden treasures, and now, apparently, multiversal threats.
I had a feeling things were about to get a lot less peaceful.
But for now, with Haran's hand in mine and her obsessive love wrapped around me like chains of jade qi, I allowed myself one selfish thought.
Maybe being the only me in her world isn't so bad after all.