Possessed with All Stats at 999
I'd possessed a body with all stats at 999. Sword and Rose's Twilight, a romance fantasy novel. Cayenne von Berghart, a border noble. Second son of the Berghart Viscountcy. A minor character who gets killed off in one line toward the end of volume 1.
The original text was exactly this.
"Cayenne is dead."
No flashbacks. No screams. Just one line. The author clearly banged it out in five seconds and moved on.
"Hah."
I snorted as I got out of bed.
Exactly three years since I'd transmigrated. I'd trained like a maniac the whole time. Swing the sword upon waking, swing after meals, swing until falling asleep. That was it.
Why? Because I didn't want to die. That was all.
I pulled up my status window.
All 999s.
The system caps at 999—it can't measure higher. My real stats are way beyond, but the system can't keep up.
"Hm."
I grinned.
The male lead's swordsmanship spec at the late-game point in the original story? 250.
I could snap him with one finger.
I left the room.
Ran into a maid in the hallway. The moment she saw me, she nearly dropped her tray. She caught it with both hands and bowed her head deeply.
"Y-Young master. Breakfast is ready."
Her voice trembled.
Three years ago, I was just the second son here. An incompetent one. Inferior to my brother. Not even as good as my sister. The maids used to walk past without a greeting.
Not anymore.
"Got it."
I gave a short reply and passed by. I heard her sigh in relief behind me. The kind that said she was glad she hadn't run into me.
I chuckled.
My reflection stared back from the mirror at the end of the hall. Same face as the pre-transmigration Cayenne. Black hair, gray eyes. Fucking handsome. Romance novel buffs.
"...Damn, I'm hot."
I muttered to myself as I headed to the dining hall.
I entered the dining hall.
Long wooden table. Father at the head. Mother beside him. Brother Lihen across. Sister Celine next to him.
The moment I walked in, their conversation cut off dead.
Father's fork froze over his plate. Mother stiffened with her glass in hand. Brother stopped mid-chew and shut his mouth. Sister dropped her gaze.
"......Cayenne."
Father forced his mouth open. A border viscount who used to bellow orders, but not at me.
"Good morning."
"Yes."
One word reply.
I sat. The scrape of the chair echoed through the dining hall. No one spoke.
I speared a piece of meat and popped it in. Chewed. The chewing sounded too loud.
This family used to be rowdy at the table a year ago. Brother bragging about his wild boar hunt, sister talking debutante balls, father on territory management.
Now? Silence.
Because I was at the table.
Funny as hell.
"Lihen."
I called my brother next to me for no reason.
His shoulders tensed slightly. A 25-year-old man, in front of his little brother.
"......Y-yeah, Cayenne."
"How's your sword training going lately?"
No real intent. Just trying to break the awkward silence at breakfast.
But brother's face turned like he'd gotten a death sentence.
"W-well, lately I've been a bit......"
"A bit?"
"B-busy."
"Yeah?"
I speared another piece of meat. Chewed slowly. Swallowed fully before speaking.
"You're the eldest son of Berghart. Isn't swordsmanship your duty?"
"......"
"But too busy for your duty?"
The air at the table chilled.
"Father."
Now I looked at father.
He flinched.
"Brother's the heir, right?"
"......Y-yes."
"But the heir neglects his duty. You knew?"
"......"
No answer.
Couldn't answer.
Sigh. What was I gonna do with these idiots.
BAM.
I slammed the table.
The thick oak split dead center. Glasses jumped from the vibration, fell, and shattered. Wine soaked the tablecloth red.
The dining hall froze.
Mother covered her mouth with both hands. Sister pressed against her chair back. Father stiffened with knife and fork in hand.
Brother.
"......"
Was on his feet. Instinctively. Didn't know if he meant to run or apologize—his face said even he didn't know.
I stood slowly. Shorter than brother by a head. But the instant I rose, he stepped back.
The tall guy retreating from his short little brother.
"Brother."
I raised my hand.
Like I was gonna slap his cheek.
He squeezed his eyes shut. His whole body shook. Shoulders. Legs. Lips.
Wondered if he'd pissed himself, but decided not to check. Too pathetic if true.
I laughed. For real.
"...Whatever."
Lowered my hand.
"Ruins my appetite."
Left the dining hall. Behind me, mother's quiet sobs. Sister consoling her. Father's sigh.
Brother's legs giving out, collapsing into his chair.
Wasn't that hilarious?
I stood in the hall, laughing.
On the way back to my room, a system window popped up.
Border Tyrant
📍 Condition: Instill your strength in every family member
🎁 Progress:4/4
✅ Reward Issued
"...Useless title."
They're already scared shitless. What, extra bonus on top? Free, though, so I took it.
Opened my door.
A new servant stood inside.
"......"
I stopped.
"Pleased to meet you, young master. Starting today, I'll be attending—"
"Who the hell are you?"
Cut him off.
Late twenties, maybe. Standard servant uniform. Neat hair. Proper posture. Perfect servant.
But I knew at a glance.
This guy's no servant.
One perk of all-stats 999 is detection. Breathing, heartbeat, muscle tension. A normal servant should be nervously breathing in front of the young master. Too calm is suspicious, too ragged too.
But this guy.
Heartbeat too steady. A pro's. An assassin's.
His perfect servant cosplay backfired.
"I-I'm sorry, young master. What do you—"
"Your breathing."
Stepped closer.
"Not a servant's."
The fake servant's face hardened. Bingo.
"Who sent you?"
Another step.
"Talk nice, and I'll kill you painless."
His hand went to his inner pocket. Drawing a dagger.
That was it.
Grabbed his wrist. Bones crunched on contact.
"Gahk—!"
He opened his mouth to scream. Shoved my hand in to gag him. Didn't want the family hearing and freaking out again.
"Shh."
I grinned.
"Told you to talk. Why draw the knife?"
Tightened on his wrist. His arm twisted up to the shoulder. Joints popped in sequence. Tears streamed from his eyes.
"Asking again. Who sent you?"
Pulled my hand from his mouth.
"V-Valtar... Viscount......"
Valtar Viscount.
"......"
Rifled through original story knowledge.
Valtar Viscount. Rival to Berghart in the neighboring territory. Minor character in volume 1, chapter 4. Swallows part of the territory after Cayenne dies and Bergharts weaken.
"Hah."
Laughed.
In the original timeline, he acted after Cayenne's death. But post-transmigration, with Cayenne getting strong, he sent a spy early to probe.
Smashing the original story. Nice.
"Good work."
Grabbed his throat. With my palm.
"Tell your viscount: 'Come yourself next time.'"
"W-wait, spare—"
"Oh, not what I meant."
Squeezed.
Pop.
Watermelon burst. His head lolled sideways. Neck bones pulverized. Dropped the limp corpse. Minimal blood. Hands-on is clean.
"Message delivered via corpse too."
Muttered.
Should dump this body at Valtar territory's entrance. Crushed-skull spy arriving should shut the viscount up for a while.
Spy Disposal
🎁 Reward: EXP +0
Note: Target level too low. No EXP awarded.
"......Hey."
No EXP?
For pulling this much aggro?
"Useless."
Kicked the corpse under the bed. Deal with it later. Family's probably cleaning up the shattered table—another freakout if they saw this.
Lay on the bed.
Stared at the ceiling.
One year until the original plot advances. Until Cayenne's death scene.
"Just try it."
I muttered.
"You sword-250 scrubs."
Same time. Neighboring territory, Valtar Viscount's office.
Valtar Viscount gazed out the window, wine glass in hand.
"Should be arriving about now, right?"
The butler replied politely.
"Infiltrated the Berghart Viscountcy as a servant this morning. He'll dig up Cayenne's weaknesses within a week."
"Good."
Valtar sipped his wine.
"That second son of Berghart's been suspicious lately. Rumors he beat the knight captain one-on-one. Better grab his weakness before he really steps up."
"Indeed. Your foresight, my lord."
Valtar smiled smugly.
As he smiled so smugly.
Something thudded into the garden center beyond the office window.
Thump.
"......"
Valtar approached the window, glass still in hand.
On the garden lawn.
A man in familiar servant clothes lay with his head completely crushed. The spy he'd sent to the Berghart Viscountcy this morning.
"......What."
Valtar's wine glass slipped from his hand.