Chapter 1
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Became the Favorite's Child
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‘How to Turn the Ice Wolf Count into a Giant Puppy’
Shortened to ‘Good Boy Count’.
It was the title of a romance fantasy webtoon—aka ‘rom-fan’—that I used to read on my favorite green site.
The ever-cold and ruthless Count Siegmond Everglow, who showed no interest in anyone else.
And Cecilia Merrygold, his complete opposite—a total golden retriever in human form.
The main story followed her sunny personality melting his icy heart until they finally tied the knot.
It was pretty famous.
Even I, Ppobi, who usually stuck to fantasy and martial arts stuff, followed it.
Sure, you could call it a cliché rom-fan trope...
But the artist pulled off a drawing showcase, and the writer nailed the narrative and dialogue.
If it had just been pretty art, I’d have dropped it around episode 100, but it was surprisingly fun.
Of course, the heroine Cecilia being drop-dead gorgeous helped a ton.
She was the kind of woman where, if she offered her hand, you’d run off with her to the end of the world.
I checked forums beforehand—no heavy girl-targeted vibes, solid reviews even for rom-fan skeptics.
All in all, a satisfying read.
So why bring it up now?
“Come in.”
Because, fuck me, I reincarnated... or transmigrated? Into that damn rom-fan world.
And the one calling me into this room right now was...
“So, how’s that building you were constructing coming along?”
None other than the male lead tied to the heroine—and my father—Count Siegmond Everglow.
I pushed open the antique door, and a mountain of papers on his desk greeted me first.
Closing it carefully behind me, he dove straight into business as usual...
A man this consistent isn’t easy to find.
“Yes, Father. Thank you for your concern.”
True to a rom-fan male lead, even in his later years, he looked hale and hearty—still handsome as ever.
He didn’t seem to put in any special effort, yet not a wrinkle or gray hair in sight.
He looked exactly the same as when I’d come begging permission to build the hotel.
A rom-fan protag trait, huh?
Come to think of it, even if he skipped self-care, Mom wouldn’t let him. No wonder his face glowed.
About a year ago? I remembered it vividly—shaking as I showed up with my business plan for the stamp of approval.
“So, is this your answer—the thing on my desk this morning?”
He shook the paper in his hand—my painstakingly crafted proposal—his gaze as piercing as the pre-Mom ice-blooded count.
To a stranger, that chilling stare would feel like it pierced straight through you, his natural pressure shrinking them down.
Not me, though. I’d seen him grinning like an idiot next to Mom for years now.
“Yes. I prepared it so you could read it before our meeting today—nice and easy to understand.”
“Your preparedness is still top-notch.”
My answer must’ve pleased him; his expression softened a bit before he dropped his eyes back to the report and spoke.
“Alright. You’re really planning to go independent right after coming of age?”
“All my ventures so far have been prep for that. A man can’t mooch off home forever.”
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason.
Everyone dreams of living solo.
They say moving out means suffering, but that freedom’s worth the hassle.
And above all, it was my original dream.
“As you can see there, I’ve handled the groundwork. Once I hit adulthood, we can open right away.”
“Hmm...”
Watching our count flip pages in silence had me on edge for no reason.
Naturally, I didn’t write the report solo. What did I know about that?
I’d died from overwork on a business trip, crashing in a hotel.
Before reincarnating into this rom-fan world, I’d graduated university on time and jumped into a big trading firm, constantly jetting off on trips.
Great pay, top hotels booked for me—but no time to spend the cash.
Business doesn’t take holidays, they’d grind us.
The only breaks were when overseas jobs wrapped early.
I’d circled the globe, hitting famous spots: Ritz, Savoy, Beverly Hills, Boots AE, Marina Bay, Hillton.
Retire someday and chill in places like this, I’d think.
So, reincarnated me could only bring 21st-century ideas.
Sales? Maybe. Management? Clueless.
Luckily, being an Everglow meant money and talent aplenty—that sufficed.
“The ideas look solid. You’re thinking long-term.”
This was a romance fantasy world, after all.
Swords and magic, sure—but above all, full of ‘romance’ and ‘love’.
This life, I wanted to chase my dream.
“Worth a shot.”
He finished the report, slammed the stamp down with a crisp thunk, and leaned back.
“One question. Confident?”
The ‘Everglow Family’ name on a ‘hotel business’.
Starting in the capital, of course—but success meant branches across the empire.
Capital’s where the crowds and cash flowed—perfect for building rep.
Who’s CEO? Me, duh.
I’m the only one with hotel experience worldwide.
Though I wouldn’t manage it myself.
Hire talent, make a ‘managing director’ spot—easy.
“Yes. I’ll make it a hotel—no, a company—that wows everyone without tarnishing the family name.”
“Hmm.”
His cool gaze sized up if it was real confidence or bluff.
He went easy day-to-day, but in ‘work’ mode? Peak youthful vigor.
But I was confident.
Alone? Tough. But with the family backing? Golden.
No real competition. Not just a ‘lodging house’—a luxury standout.
Empire was chaotic internally and externally before—no room for this. Now, stable era.
His Majesty’s policies.
Expansion via untamed lands, foreign exchanges.
Merit over birth, commerce boom.
More races mingling: elves trickling in, dwarves as engineers, dragons stepping out, beastkin hordes...
This was a surefire hit.
And I started ahead.
Side hustles built cash and my rep.
Not from scratch.
Fail this? I’d bite my tongue and die.
“A company, huh. First move’s already a win—you’re eyeing beyond.”
Above all, our picky count stamped it instantly.
Not a smash hit, but success guaranteed.
“Glad you see my confidence that way.”
“Enough. Your eldest brother takes the heir role, second’s there too—do what you want, I said.”
“Always grateful to my brothers for that.”
He chuckled lightly, stood.
“Hate it that much?”
“Not hate—just, why me over my betters...?”
“Hmm, not always... Fine. Forcing an unwilling guy breeds accidents.”
“Ha, haha... Thanks for understanding.”
“You’ve always had a knack for money flows since kid days. Your mom’s the natural; it’s not my forte.”
He approached, hand on my shoulder.
“Give it your all. Fail? You’ve got plenty of ‘pocket money’ saved.”
“Ha, haha... Not that much.”
“Keep taxes paid—no heads rolling.”
Fantasy tax realism? Tax evader rumors made me sweat anyway.
“I don’t want to see a family member jailed for tax fraud—unless it’s treason.”
He waved me out, but those words hit like heard cases, heart pounding speechless.
“Seriously... Don’t scare me like that—heart’s gonna drop.”
If not for Mom, he’d have sparked a rebellion and died. Her jokes from him landed hard.
Mom turning that machine-man into a big doggo? Impressive.
“A businessman fainting at this? One year till independence?”
“Birthday passed, so yeah.”
“Bulk up till then.”
“I’ll try.”
Tense study trip? Over quick with a shoulder pat and ‘good luck’.
Time flew to now.
Building done, interiors next—progress report time.
Using family name, proxy CEO as front till adulthood.
Biggest investor/supporter—plus parents this life.
Early confusion post-realization? Mom and Dad let ‘quirky but smart, kind kid’ slide.
Capital build meant Imperial approval too.
That was the hardest.
Heir seat? Declined—eldest and second handle it.
Politics, interests? Headache.
We’re loaded—why bother?
Grateful not firstborn with great parents.
Dad nodded at progress.
“Good. Keep it up. Need more? Speak. Else, fetch your second brother on exit.”
“He cause trouble again?”
“Tell you later.”
Rubbing brow like headache, I left quietly.
Closed door, exhaled.
Even as son, his work face shakes me.
Mom always smiling at him? Legend.
Son me flinches sometimes.
That’s heroine level? Tough gig.
“Conversation with the family head over, young master?”
Smooth, pleasant voice called.
“Faster than expected. Sorry to keep you, Sion.”
First in view: sparkling pale gold eyes.
Bathing in sunlight from wide-open window, gleaming beautifully.
My all-in-one maid, secretary, butler, bodyguard: Sion.
Good weather? Cat ears perked happily.
Trim black hair swaying with them.
Face stoic as ever, but tail gave her away.
“Went well. Whew, thought I’d die of nerves.”
“...Second young master’s a bad influence on your upbringing, as expected.”
Her eyes chilled; I spoke to her.
Tail and ears stiff—pent-up frustration clear.
“Go easy. That’s just him. Where’s second bro?”
Pet to calm—back to poker face, tail swishing softly. WWE as usual.
“With today’s fiancée.”
“Yeah? Dad wants him... In his room?”
“Your room, young master.”
“My room?”
“The one you decorated.”
“Oh, the model house?”
Model house in name—really my modern-style reno of an empty room.
World had flush toilets, hot water, all good—but interiors too gaudy.
Eyes tired, distracting; went pre-reincarnation modern. Surprisingly popular.
Tour for first-time mansion guests became tradition.
But talented guy who goes blind around girls, crashing my room unannounced? With fiancée-to-be?
“Ah, this guy again!”
No need to say more.
Plenty of parlors/guest rooms—why there? Even has his own.
Sighed with Sion, headed to the ‘model house’ matching my interior.
“Kyaa!”
Burst in—second bro and soon-to-be sis-in-law, flushed faces, awkward poses like just disentangled.
Ah, seriously...
At least clothes on—small mercies?