Remnants of a Past Life
Mage—Creak! Thud!
“Ugh... what...”
The moment he opened his eyes, a familiar ceiling came into view. Only after scanning the room did Brown realize he was lying in bed.
“...”
He'd had a bad dream.
What kind of dream was that...
His school days, graduation, discharge from the military, getting a job. His dark history and cherished memories. Connections from his previous life.
It had played out like a documentary, countless scenes flashing by. The subject was his past self, and he was the sole viewer. Though it skipped after the part where he left a comment and jumped straight to getting hit by the car, everything up to that fatal moment was exactly what he'd lived through. His last memory from that life had been stumbling drunk down the street after turning thirty, tripping onto the road.
“Whew...”
Brown pondered for a moment. Why had he dreamed that now, of all times? Regardless, there was something to gain from it.
A question about whether the comment he'd left had triggered his recollection of his past life in this world. And the info his friend had shared about the original novel.
He could set aside the question, but the information was useful. Using the dawn light filtering through the window as his lamp, Brown fetched paper and pen and jotted it all down.
Scritch scritch.
Details were added to the roughly remembered info. Of course, he shouldn't forget his friend's tremendous dedication in explaining even unasked-for details while he read the novel. It didn't turn into a precise timeline of events, but it was still helpful.
Thanks for telling me. I should've listened more closely back then. If we ever meet, I'll buy you a meal.
Unfortunately, he'd never see that friend again. As if the guy had reincarnated here too. Brown mentally retracted the words, just in case.
Finishing up, he reviewed what he'd written.
The future events...
War between two kingdoms was imminent. [One kingdom, burdened by subjugating the demonic beasts, shoves them into the neighboring kingdom...] It must have seemed like a clear solution to them, but not so for the other side.
War broke out between the two kingdoms. It gradually spread to others, recreating a world war scenario. If the original history's World War I had begun from a conviction-driven young man amid overheated neo-imperialism, this world's global conflict was more like a neighborly brawl over trash left in front of the house escalating to engulf an entire apartment building.
There were other reasons too, but this was all Brown knew for now. The Empire would join later.
It was too busy handling the crisis right in front of it.
[The North is on the brink of collapse? They can't handle the surging demonic beasts...]
In the end, the North couldn't contain the ever-increasing beasts. Knights and soldiers had their limits, so the Empire dispatched reinforcements.
Mages and knights, that is. The Northerners despised mages, but on the verge of annihilation, they had no choice. Only with their arrival did the tide turn from being subjugated to subjugating—barely balancing the scales.
Afterward, the North launched a massive subjugation of the Lollerwayo Forest, where beasts endlessly spawned. Countless lives were lost in that operation. They held the North, but it was deemed irrecoverable for a century, paving the way for the Demon God Cult's rise much later.
Hmm...
In summary, even if shotguns made beast subjugation easier, without addressing the hatchery in the forest, the beasts would keep multiplying. The North would face the same outcome as the original story, becoming the Demon God Cult's playground.
As Brown organized the future events, he scratched his head.
Knowing this, what can I even do?
He couldn't command troops, so no grand actions. He lacked personal power to resolve it himself.
Still, maybe a warning...
Brown pulled out fresh paper and dredged up more memories.
What was it again...?
[There are three major beast forests around the territory. The northern one from the territory is the most dangerous...]
Thanks, buddy.
Back then, he'd let it go in one ear and out the other, but now it was clear: his friend had poured out info tirelessly, like a grandmother endlessly refilling rice for a full guest, hoping it'd help if he ever regained memories in another world. What a grateful friend.
He roughly marked the beast forests around the territory, noted their danger levels, then slipped the paper into an envelope.
Knock knock.
Time had flown to commute hour. His guard, Serena Arwin, rapped on the door.
“Let's go.”
Brown opened the house door and stepped out.
“Good morning.”
They exchanged their usual chatter on the way to the lab, but the dream lingered, making him watch Arwin closely. In the original story, she'd have gone north as reinforcements, awakened her aura amid crisis, been chosen by the holy sword, and become the hero. But would she now?
Brown eyed her thoughtfully as they walked. Sensing something off, she spoke.
“Is there something on my face...?”
“Ah... no...”
No plans to head north?
Saying that would make me look weird.
Brown swallowed the words and changed the subject.
“Have you awakened your aura yet?”
“Hmm... not quite to that level.”
She smiled sheepishly.
“But I'm training steadily. My dream is to become a knight someday.”
“I'll cheer you on.”
“Thanks.”
After the brief exchange, Brown pondered again. The world had diverged sharply from the original. Guns and steam engines drove steady tech progress. Oil and electricity were in R&D, and their adoption would change everything—a plus.
But... the protagonist...
In the original, she had to grind levels to save the world. Now, she was tied to his side as a guard.
The protagonist who should grow through events and bonds with supporting cast.
No clue...
Hard to judge the butterfly effects. Minus or plus? Was keeping her here truly good?
Maybe request a guard change...
Brown's worries deepened.
“Ah! You're Mr. Brown, right?”
As he mulled, someone spotted him from afar, waving and running over. His guard snapped to attention, eyeing her.
“Ehehehe.”
She ran laughing, and as she neared, drew something from her waist. It looked suspiciously like a gun.
“Uh...”
Brown watched, his earlier musings continuing.
The one assassinated in Sarajevo probably saw something like this before dying...
The thoughts didn't last. His guard lunged with one step, closing the gap instantly. A swing of her arm sent the gun-like tool flying. She tripped her, then twisted her arm.
“Kyaaak! It hurts!”
In a blink, the woman was subdued.
This... from a regular person without aura...?
Brown gaped at his guard.
***
The morning commute mishap resolved quickly. Her name was Mayrn Mass, a mage who'd recognized Brown and run over excitedly.
“How'd you recognize me, Mr. Brown?”
“Fierce-looking impression... brown hair... a fellow mage colleague mentioned...”
“Eh...”
Is my impression that bad?
Brown deflated at her words. Meanwhile, the mage eyed the tool in his hand.
“Waaah, it's broken...”
“So what is this?”
“Not a gun...”
“Then...”
“A self-defense tool that works like one.”
“Sigh. Back to interrogation, then...”
His guard tensed again. Brown, watching her, felt a spark of recognition.
Something's coming to mind...
Pink hair, big eyes. Carefree attitude. And the name.
Arwin's fellow mage?
Brown's eyes widened. The original cast was assembling, but the circumstances were oddly off.