The Count Family's Trashy Young Master (1)

I'd possessed a novel. Not some pristine tale, but a web novel deep in an NTR drift. What I'd dismissed as mere fantasy had become my reality.

However…

A translucent system window floated in the air. And the blatantly smutty skill names ringing in my ears.

Judging by these messages, the body I'd possessed wasn't the original story's pushover protagonist, Kael. All the signs pointed to me being the academy's loathsome mid-boss, the administrative director Werner.

"Fuck… Of all people, that balding bastard."

I irritably pinched my forehead.

From shut-in NEET to balding potbellied middle-aged uncle—quite the upgrade, if you could call it that. But he was a pathetic side character who spent his life as Lucian's dogsbody at the academy, only to take the fall for that fucker's crimes and get hanged for embezzlement. And before that, he was human garbage among human garbage, using his abilities to exploit women's weaknesses and toy with them.

Naturally, he had enemies galore. At this rate, I'd be dead before I could even crush Lucian.

But the feel of my hand on my forehead was… off.

Smooth skin. No protruding gut. And most importantly, my scalp—supposed to be barren—was thick with hair.

I rushed to the full-length mirror in the corner. A gasp of disbelief escaped my lips.

"…Insane."

The man in the mirror wasn't some old, ugly creep.

Luxurious golden blonde locks. Pale skin almost ghostly white, sharp features exuding a cool, decadent aura. Under a shirt of the finest silk, toned muscles rippled across a frame towering well over 185cm—a beautiful young noble.

The 20s-era aristocrat, before booze, greasy food, and drugs corrupted him. The young Werner stared back at me.

"This is possible."

A chuckle bubbled up. This overwhelming appearance and status in my grasp. Add Mind Reading and Corruption Training, and if I played my cards right, it was doable. I could save them. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠girls.

But I couldn't just rejoice. Staring at my reflection, I gritted my teeth.

This novel, The Academy Hero Saves Everyone, had been a 'dark fantasy' before the author lost his mind to cash and drifted it into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠NTR smut.

Endless demon king invasions. Knights beheaded nightly, humanity on the brink with 70% slaughtered. Even protagonist Kael had to crawl through blood and vomit dozens of times against that insane difficulty.

Then the protagonist got his heroines stolen by Lucian, betrayed, and killed. That sealed humanity's doom. The post-NTR drift played out exactly like that.

Humanity massacred mercilessly. Attractive, beautiful women turned into demon breeding stock, subjected to every horror imaginable.

"Humanity's extinction? Not my problem. But…"

If humanity fell, the girls I had to protect would become demon playthings too.

Not sluts like Sylvia, of course. That whore could rot for all I cared. I'd rooted for her and Kael's pure love through 199 chapters, but only until Lucian fucked her.

What I wanted to save were the rare pure ones who'd resisted Lucian and the other scum to the end. They had to be out there somewhere, still breathing.

But thanks to the author's filthy setup, if I lounged around like original Werner, drunk on noble privilege, they'd be defiled too.

"This goddamn NTR bad end—I'll fix it. Make sure humanity doesn't become demon broodmares."

Ten years until Lucian enrolled. I'd strengthen humanity before that bastard even set foot in the academy.

For that, I needed the academy—the stage for major original events, where humanity's top talents gathered. I'd prop up the original protagonist, too incompetent to protect even his woman, as cannon fodder on the front lines. Traitors with no hope of redemption? Execute them early.

I glared at the reflection—the count family trash, now my face—and spat.

"Listen up, you hack author. Watch how I save this filthy world you made."

As I steeled my resolve, footsteps echoed from the hall.

I instinctively ducked behind the thick velvet curtains in the corner.

Even knowing the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠novel inside out, there were limits. Original Werner was a shallow third-rate villain the author slapped together to blackmail and train heroines. No way I knew every detail of his life.

Noble status or not, my neck wasn't safe yet. Reckless moves were suicide. This was a hardcore dark fantasy world where death lurked everywhere. Charge in blind, and I'd croak before reaching the academy.

Screeech—

"…Y-Young master? It's morning. Time to get up."

"Sis, just ignore him. He's probably passed out drunk again anyway."

I peeked through a curtain gap.

The two chattering as they entered were my personal maids, sisters Lia and Mina. The body's memories supplied their info effortlessly.

Breath held, I scanned them from the shadows.

Older sister Lia had a glamorous build—voluptuous breasts, pronounced hips. Her shy, passive face contrasted her meaty figure, stirring a twisted allure. Clumsy too; her maid uniform's top buttons strained open, revealing deep, pale cleavage.

Younger sister Mina was the opposite.

Clear, makeup-free skin, pristine and prim. Her uniform buttoned to the neck, no flaws. Rigid posture hid her curves paradoxically well, but pursed lips and icy gaze warded off men like a blade.

"Let's go, sis. We can tell the acting patriarch the young master's too wasted to wake."

Mina didn't hide her disgust. Fitting for trash like him—hated even by his maids.

Fun to curse the scum while reading, but now I was Werner. Couldn't let it slide.

Academy entry needed family backing. Snagging hidden opportunities and privileges before ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Kael or Lucian required massive funds. But with maids openly scorning me, no way the family would oblige.

After glancing around, Mina deemed the room empty and plopped brazenly on the master's bed. Then trashed me.

"Ugh, reeks of booze. Guess we clean up again? That fucker Werner…"

No need for more spying. I swept the curtain aside and strode out.

"Fucker did what?"

My sudden voice made Mina's shoulders jolt like a spring.

She recovered quick, standing to smooth her uniform, glaring coldly and insolently.

"…You're here. If you were in the room, why hide behind the curtain and scare people?"

A maid scolding her master? Contempt burned in her eyes.

Even in my grueling labor days, no woman had sneered so openly. My brow furrowed, irritation rising.

Lia, though, was different.

She yelped, hands flying to her cleavage, then approached with a shy, sweet smile.

"Y-Young master! You scared me. Late night drinking again? Stomach okay? Want some cool honey water?"

"No need."

"At least let me fix your clothes."

Lia fretted, stepping close. On tiptoes, her slender fingers gently adjusted my disheveled shirt collar.

Her delicate touch brushed my neck, carrying sweet fragrance.

A corner of my heart, hardened since the author's betrayal, twitched.

In this decapitation-prone dark fantasy—me, the family disgrace—having a woman care sincerely? Unbelievable.

She's an angel.

Worlds apart from that insolent Mina sneering openly.

Decision made.

Until I gauged the situation, rely on this sweet, pure maid Lia. Later, with original knowledge yielding fortune and power, hire her as my personal maid for pay.

I asked Lia warmly.

"Lia. What year is it in the imperial calendar?"

She blinked round-eyed at the odd question, then cooed softly.

"Oh, young master. It's Imperial Year 715. Still hungover from last night?"

Her gentle smile forced one from me too.

I had zero plans to toy with women like trashy Werner. But if she approached sweetly first, why refuse?

Nice perk of dark fantasy hierarchy—loyal maids.

Then—

My vision flickered blue. Translucent text popped above Lia's head like a window.

"…"

Lia's sweet eye-smile clashed with the vulgar rant.

"Young master? You okay? I'll tell the acting patriarch you can't make the meeting. Rest up."

Maybe my staring creeped her. She frowned cutely, grabbed my arm.

I blinked to calm down, then turned to Mina.

"Mina. What year is it in the imperial calendar?"

"Sis already said. You really sick?"

"Answer without backtalk."

"Imperial Year 715. Duh, 1715?"

She pouted curtly. Text popped above her too.

Chills. Not just mood-reading—this translated unconscious thoughts word-for-word. Cheat-level. I'd lamented no combat power, but this changed everything. Original Werner had this and wasted it on blackmail-training heroines…

Perfect for that, sure, but still.

As I pondered, Lia pressed her ample breasts against my arm, whispering fakely.

"Young master? You look awful. Let me get you to bed."

"…"

Reading her mind chilled me to the core.

The soft, full press of her cleavage on my arm turned repulsive.

Why? She'd thought of giving her 'virginity' away. This beautiful maid was… a non-virgin.

Slut bitch.

Deep in my soul, a horned horse snarled and bucked wildly.

Urk. Uuuurk. Non-virgin stench.

Nausea surged. Her skin against mine reeked of other men's cum-stained pleasure.

Pretty face and sweetness? Meaningless.

She was a filthy non-virgin, soaked in another's seed.

I couldn't stomach it—shoved her hands off roughly.

"Kyaa! Y-Young master?"

Lia tumbled back, wide-eyed and pitiful, tears welling. But I only saw the text above her.

I looked down at her like vermin, voice icy.

"Keep your filthy hands off. Disgusting."

I ignored the sprawled Lia like air, nodding at stunned Mina.

"Mina. Prepare my clothes."

"…Pardon?"

"Family meeting today. I'm attending. Get to it."