Reclassing into an NTR Scumbag
In my past life, I was a shameless novel omnivore who shoveled down every genre under the sun, but I drew the line at NTR.
Then came the day I dove into what looked like a textbook harem novel, only to be ambushed by a cuckold ending. I was so furious I sent the author a five-thousand-seven-hundred-character essay packed with pure, unadulterated vitriol.
That novel was modern fantasy, though, which led me to briefly ponder the useless question of why I had ended up reincarnated into an entirely unrelated medieval fantasy world instead.
Pushing that idle thought aside, I resolved to shatter this insolent ducal brat's mental state into fine powder by channeling the trashy, blonde, tanned delinquent straight out of that garbage novel.
I am a trashy Casanova. A tanned, blonde scumbag delinquent.
Having brainwashed myself into character, I immediately made my move.
Slipping up to Iris, who was scowling in disgust at the nobleman's attitude, I draped an arm casually over her shoulders and introduced myself.
"Pleasure to meet you. The name is Kyleus, and I'm currently escorting Her Highness."
"K-Kyle?!"
Caught completely off guard by the sudden skinship, Iris choked on her breath and froze stiff, while Paul-whatever's face twisted into an ugly shade of crimson that looked ready to detonate.
"Escort...? A filthy commoner like you, providing an escort? Don't make me laugh. And how dare you lay your hands upon the noble person of the Princess! You must have a death wish."
I expected an explosive outburst, but with so many eyes watching, he reined his temper in with surprising speed and resumed his haughty posture to censure my behavior.
Still, despite his best efforts to mask his fury, the violent tremor in his clenched fists told me he was hanging by a thread.
Scratching at him just a little more promised to be wildly entertaining. To personally strip the smug mask right off that infuriating mug, I pulled Iris even closer against my side.
"!!!!!!"
Rendered completely speechless, Iris squeaked out a bizarre little sound.
"Unlike a certain someone who got brutally rejected, I happen to share a rather intimate bond with the Princess, so Lady Iris personally asked me to escort her."
Paul-whatever twitched at every word I emphasized, his reactions growing increasingly violent until he finally snapped and threw a full-blown tantrum.
"How dare you! Do you dare insult me, Konrad Paulstein, the legitimate heir of the great House of Paulstein?!"
Ah, so the guy's name was Konrad?
More importantly, what a mouthful just to say he was offended. Doesn't he feel embarrassed spitting out his entire full name and title like that? I'd die of sheer cringe.
Pondering the thought, I graciously gave him another jab.
"When did I ever insult you? I merely stated cold, hard facts."
"You insolent cur!!!"
Having successfully provoked him with another round of 'it's true that you got dumped, isn't it?', Paul-whatever went berserk. Like a dark-evolved SkullGreymon wrecking everything in sight, he charged forward intent on murdering me on the spot.
Damn, now that's what I call a reaction! Tease him just a fraction, and he delivers the jackpot. Is this that top-tier engagement streamers dream of? Honestly made me want to adopt him as my personal punching bag.
As I stood watching him charge like a rabid bull—looking at him the way one might watch a performing circus monkey—Iris, who had been stammering helplessly just moments ago, stepped firmly into his path with a chillingly stern expression and delivered a charismatic reprimand.
"Stand down. What do you think you are doing, Young Lord Paulstein?"
"Y-Your Highness!!"
Startled by Iris suddenly blocking his way, Paul-whatever halted in dismay. Iris didn't pay his confusion the slightest heed, continuing in a tone that brooked no argument.
"Kyle is the companion I personally requested to escort me. If you insult Kyle any further, I will take it as the House of Paulstein issuing a direct challenge to the Imperial Family."
Seeing the usually pampered, pouty Iris standing in front of me like a mother tigress shielding her cub, exuding an aura of authority truly befitting an imperial princess, left me genuinely impressed.
Wait, she had that in her?
While I was busy being pleasantly surprised by this new side of Iris, Paul-whatever was reeling in utter shock—not just that she had blocked him, but that she was actively shielding me. He stammered frantically to justify himself.
"Y-Your Highness!! But—!"
Yet Iris cut his excuse off before it could leave his mouth, showing him the door without an ounce of hesitation.
"I have no desire to hear your excuses, so take your leave. Young Lord Paul-lost."
Under Iris's cold eviction order, he couldn't do a damn thing. His face turned beet red, hands trembling uncontrollably as he glared at me with pure, murderous intent.
Watching the spectacle from behind her shoulder, I fished a pen out of my pocket and scribbled a word across my open palm.
Then, I reenacted a bit from a comedy sketch show I'd loved in my past life right here in this other world.
Beholding my cheeky, insolent smirk and the word WOW! written in bold letters across my splayed palm, Paul-whatever's eyes went completely bloodshot. He gnawed on his lip so hard it nearly bled, trembling with the urge to pounce, but with Iris standing resolutely in front of him, he was powerless to act.
"...Excuse me."
Evidently realizing that remaining any longer would only deepen his humiliation, he offered a stiff bow, spun on his heel, and beat a hasty retreat.
His sycophantic clique scrambled after him, and the onlookers who had gathered for the show began to disperse.
Once the crowd had completely cleared out—
Iris's commanding aura vanished into thin air. Swatting at my arm like a petulant kitten, she shrieked:
"Kyle!! What were you thinking, doing that in front of so many people?!"
She had started lecturing me for inciting an incident in broad daylight, and against the direct heir of a ducal house no less.
"Come on, wasn't seeing that arrogant bastard's face contort totally worth it?"
To her reprimand, I offered a casual retort: Admit it, it felt great, right?
"I-I mean, that was great, but...!"
Iris seemed on the verge of agreeing before suddenly screeching at the top of her lungs to lay down the law.
"Regardless!! Don't you dare hug me like that in public ever again!!"
Wait, THAT was what bothered you?
"Your Highness, weren't you angry because I picked a fight with a ducal house?"
Her priorities felt a little skewed, so I had to ask.
"Why would I be angry about that? It's not like even a ducal house poses much of a threat to you anyway, Kyle."
I stared at her in disbelief at how casually she dismissed a ducal family, but she pressed on, blushing furiously:
"A-Anyway, just don't hug me like that in front of everyone! It's embarrassing!!"
It seemed our Princess cared far less about political friction with a duke than about her embarrassment and potential damage to her marriage prospects.
Come to think of it, if word got out that a twenty-year-old imperial princess was seen embracing a mere commoner in broad daylight, it really could sabotage her marriage prospects and mortify her to no end.
Moreover, royal status aside, no matter how close we were, initiating unannounced physical contact with an adult woman in public was the kind of stunt that would get a man reported for sexual harassment without a leg to stand on.
Now that I think about it, I really was in the wrong...
Deciding to make amends, I offered a sincere apology for my thoughtless behavior.
"Your Highness, I truly apologize for touching you without your consent in front of so many onlookers. I got carried away because of how close we are and acted without thinking. I'm genuinely sorry."
"T-Things like that should be done when it's just the two of us..."
Iris mumbled something under her breath while I was bowing my head in contrition, but her voice was so tiny I couldn't catch it.
"Your Highness... forgive me, but I didn't quite catch that. Could you repeat it?"
When I asked her to say it again, she exploded:
"I-It's nothing!!! It's getting late, so let's hurry back to the dorms!!"
She yelled at the top of her lungs and sprinted toward the carriage staging area without looking back once.
"Hmm... puberty? At her age? No way."
I briefly wondered if she was going through a late-onset rebellious phase, but—
"Your Highness!! Wait for me!!"
I shelved the mystery for later and ran after the Princess, who had already vanished into the distance.
As the azure sky gradually deepened into dusk—
Clack-clack, clack-clack.
A solitary carriage rolled away from the commercial district.
Inside sat Konrad Paulstein, trembling violently with white-knuckled fists clenched in his lap.
"How dare he... How dare a filthy wretch of a commoner covet what belongs to me?!"
He was the heir to House Paulstein, one of only five ducal families in the entire empire, standing among the most exalted beings beneath the imperial bloodline itself. The only woman in this world worthy of being his counterpart was Princess Iris. Therefore, she belonged to him.
Though she had once turned down his proposal, that was merely because she had been too young at the time. Now that she had come of age, she would naturally fall into his embrace.
Yet a vulgar mongrel with sewer water running through his veins—
Had dared to covet his prize. Worse, right before his very eyes, that scoundrel had laid his filthy hands on Princess Iris's soft shoulders and pulled her into his embrace!
And as if that weren't enough, he had cowered behind the Princess, flaunting some bizarre word written on his hand while sneering at him in blatant mockery.
He would make that commoner pay dearly for forgetting his place and running rampant on the coattails of the Princess's favor!
To achieve that, he needed intelligence first. No matter how base-born the dog was, to act so intimately with the Princess meant he had to have some sort of backing.
"Butler. I presume you brought the information on that commoner?"
"I have, Young Master."
The wild, uncontrolled rage from earlier was gone without a trace. Seeing his young master rein in his fury in an instant—coldly calculating how to rip out the throat of the beast that had bared its fangs at him—doubled the butler's tension. Into the butler's ear fell a voice so icy it could freeze the northern tundra solid.
"Then speak."
Though the chill threatened to seize his very marrow, the butler barely held his composure and began to deliver his report.
"Allow me to report, sir. His name is Kyleus. Born in the slums, he was conscripted into the war around the age of nine. He distinguished himself with combat prowess far beyond his years and accumulated numerous achievements on the front lines. In particular, his familiarity with Her Highness is presumed to stem from an incident when he was fourteen, where he rescued her from a kidnapping."
Listening to the report, Konrad let out a derisive scoff. Far from having the powerful sponsor he had anticipated, the wretch had literally nothing to his name.
"Ha! No backer at all? He dared cross me, the heir of House Paulstein, banking solely on meager martial talent and the Princess's acquaintance? Does that peasant not value his life?"
The moment he realized Kyleus was someone he could eliminate without leaving a trace whenever he pleased, Konrad relaxed into smug complacency.
"......"
Yet the butler remained silent, visibly agonizing over whether to speak.
Noticing his hesitation, Konrad frowned.
"Why are you standing there like a mute?"
Terrified that speaking out of turn would foul Konrad's mood and bring the wrath down upon himself, the butler wrestled with his fears before finally making up his mind.
"Well... the truth is, there are further details to report."
"Tsk, out with it already."
"The year following the Princess's rescue, when Kyleus turned fifteen, his whereabouts vanished entirely until the conclusion of the war. However, after the war ended, he was sighted on multiple occasions within the Imperial Palace."
"Hmm... and what of it?"
"Furthermore, during the Imperial Palace collapse two years ago—which was officially announced as an accident caused by failed magical research—our family's informants planted within the palace reported that he was the one responsible."
"Hahaha! So you're telling me a mere commoner drove the Imperial Palace to the brink of collapse, and lived to tell the tale? Are you mocking me right now?"
As Konrad's face darkened with displeasure, the butler hurriedly pressed on.
"No, Young Master! But based on the intelligence gathered and their testimonies, the likelihood of it being true is exceedingly high! In terms of pure combat ability, rumors even say he could hold his own against the entire Imperial Knights Order!"
The desperate urgency in the butler's voice wiped the complacency from Konrad's face, his expression freezing over.
"Moreover, no matter how deeply we dug into his past, every record of his activities from age fifteen to the end of the war was completely scrubbed, as if deliberately erased. And the only entity in the empire capable of such an erasure is the Empe—"
"Enough. That is quite enough."
Anticipating what the butler was about to say, Konrad cut him off instantly.
"M-My apologies..."
The butler blanched, realizing he had nearly uttered forbidden words.
Konrad, stripped of his previous ease, pieced together the fragments of information with grave intensity to deduce Kyle's identity.
"...!!!!"
And he arrived at the singular conclusion.
Kyleus... he's a member of the Apocalypse!!
The empire's strongest and most terrifying unit. The imperial house's sharpest blade and sturdiest shield.
A gathering of human calamities, where every single member possessed enough destructive might to annihilate an entire knight order single-handedly.
The special black-ops unit answering directly to the Emperor: the Apocalypse.
Their very existence was classified at the highest level, known to no one save the Emperor, the heads of the five ducal houses, and their designated successors.
Come to think of it, Father was complaining recently about a monstrous upstart who might become the second Fist Saint—so that was Kyleus!!
A monster among monsters, a commoner who clawed his way into the Apocalypse and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the Emperor on sheer martial might alone.
And Kyleus was slated to be the successor to that very beast.
Which meant everything the butler had just reported was true.
On paper, it was a terrifyingly disadvantageous situation. Yet, despite the spike of tension, Konrad slowly regained his composure.
No matter how formidable a member of the Apocalypse he might be, or that he was tipped to succeed the Fist Saint, he was still just one operative—a bud that had yet to fully bloom.
Therefore, before that flower could ever blossom—
I will nip it in the bud.
"That is the only way Iris will be mine."
Any ordinary man would have abandoned all thoughts of vengeance after learning Kyle's pedigree.
Blind with obsession and drunk on the peerless prestige of his ducal house, Konrad did not believe destroying Kyle was impossible.
Still, he had no intention of charging in blindly.
Delusional as he was, he wasn't so foolish as to strike without preparation.
"First, we must spread word of what transpired today."
The moment he realized Kyle was a lethal powerhouse, he pivoted away from direct force and shifted tactics.
"How should the rumor be framed, Young Master?"
"Spread word that the freshman class representative attempted to molest the Princess, and subsequently assaulted an honorable young noble who intervened to protect her. Furthermore, ensure that no one traces this rumor back to me..."
Mulling over the optimal pawn, Konrad's lips curved into a scheme.
"Right. Naria Lederman—that gossip-mongering young lady matriculated this year, did she not?"
"She did, Young Master."
"Good. Discreetly drop the rumor into her ear. She will take care of the rest on her own."
A cold chill of foreboding washed over the butler, but knowing he possessed no choice but absolute obedience, he bowed his head.
"...Understood."
Having set the trap, Konrad sneered inwardly.
No matter how strong you are, you are nothing more than a peasant devoid of power and backing. When your limbs are severed and you lie helpless in the dirt, I will personally slit your throat.
Oblivious to his butler's apprehension, he merely immersed himself in plotting the downfall of the insolent monster who had dared lay eyes on his prize.
After having my fun toying with Paul-whatever, we returned to the academy. I sent Iris straight to the women's dormitory, headed into the men's dorms, took a quick shower, and flopped onto the bed.
Living up to the reputation of a wealthy empire, the dorm felt more like a five-star hotel suite in Gangnam. To top it off, every student got their own private single room. Money truly reigned supreme.
Basking in the glory of capital, I stared at the ceiling and mentally reviewed the day's events.
Waking up late from a hangover and getting chewed out by my boss; barging into the entrance ceremony at the last second; picking a fight with noble scions during the representative address; touring the campus with Iris; and clowning on Paul-whatever.
And that was just the highlight reel from a single day.
"Damn... no wonder today felt so long."
I hadn't even been assigned to a class yet and the incident count was already through the roof. On top of looking after myself, I was saddled with babysitting foreign royalty. I shuddered to imagine how much more annoying this gig was going to get.
While fretting over my upcoming academy life, I gave another thought to the encounter in the commercial district.
One thing was certain: like father, like son. Considering how the head of House Paul-whatever used to attack me at every opportunity in the Imperial Palace, this noble brat was bound to be an utter pain in my ass.
Under normal circumstances, preparing for the young lord's retaliation would be the sensible move, but...
"Do I really need to bother?"
Honestly, it wasn't like I was taking on the entire empire or squaring off against those ancient geezers from the Five Stars. At most, it was one spoiled ducal brat. Even if it escalated, it would just be one ducal house and a few minor noble vassal families.
I could wipe them all off the face of the continent in a day or two anyway. Did I really need to waste energy making plans?
Not that I'd eradicate their entire bloodline over petty squabbling—that was strictly reserved for if they crossed the line.
Wiping out a founding ducal house without sufficient justification would force me into war with the entire empire, which would turn my life into an administrative nightmare.
"For the sake of my life's dream—becoming a filthy rich slacker—that's an absolute no-go."
So, I'd just sleep for tonight and cross that bridge when I got to it.
Putting an end to an exhausting day, I melted into the plush mattress, anticipating the academy life that awaited tomorrow, and drifted off into a deep, peaceful slumber.