Shadows Off the Spotlight and the Prodigal Noble
The world I glimpsed through the only protagonist I could claim wasn't this kind of hellscape. Even in its desperate moments, it brimmed with brightness and meaning—a life overflowing with purpose. The world spun for Kiara's sake, driven by her, leaving no room for side villains outside the spotlight to touch her. But things were different for me, lurking in those same shadows. Every single action they took demanded careful calculation: threat or opportunity?
"Where's that?"
[Nobles' central district.]
"Then what about over there?"
[Treatment center.]
"And that?"
[Mercenary guild...]
"Here."
[...Slow down a bit.]
I unrolled the dusty map and started jotting down locations one by one.
Naturally, I couldn't grasp everything. The view was limited, tangled and muddled besides—not entirely accurate. Still, I recorded what I could immediately discern, sketching contingency plans just in case.
Before I knew it, night had fallen.
[Call it for today. Rest.]
"I can keep going..."
[Your face says otherwise. What about my face?]
"...Yeah, okay."
I'd planned to pull an all-nighter, but unmarked spots began appearing on the map, one after another.
At first, I wondered if it was the Evil God meddling...
[Tilt back. Head back. My blood's precious, you know.]
This wretched body. A nosebleed after just that much.
'Looking' alone drained stamina more than expected.
"Gotta rest exactly one hour."
No time to waste, certainly no luxury for leisurely breaks. But this truly pathetic shell of a body...
"Wake me in exactly one hour. Please..."
...Who could've guessed I'd end up bedridden for three more days?
Spring had arrived. No flowers dotted the streets, but it was spring all the same. More oddities crept into my vision now, the world shrouded in the greenhouse gases spewed by Evil God worshippers—yet it hadn't crumbled. Not yet.
The story I'd witnessed hadn't even begun; everyone still believed the world was more or less at peace.
Proving the point, the orphanage chugged along fine even after my ten-day absence.
'This actually works?'
Yes. Thanks to my neglect, it had evolved into a state of self-sufficiency.
No clothes? Patch 'em up roughly.
No food? Forage from the mountains.
You watching, fucking Koreans? Your wild greens-digging grit lives on here.
Bullshit.
Months had passed since possession. The honeymoon phase was over; problems I'd overlooked started surfacing one by one.
"Time to plan countermeasures."
[Eh, something like that.]
"No bullshit."
By my initial goals, progress wasn't bad.
'Get close to the kids.'
After the Malkor incident, Alice treated me a bit more comfortably—she even greeted me when we crossed paths. Charlie, unlike his tearful first impression, shyly offered thanks and hellos first now. The other kids' stares had softened too. Probably thanks to better concealing the Evil God's aura.
They still hid in fear... but if I cornered them quietly in a blind spot with no escape...
...They'd greet me.
'Is this... progress?'
...Huh?
'Months of effort for hellos?'
Well... with my karma, even this was something to be grateful for.
[What? Why the stare?]
"...Just looking in the mirror."
But idle days like a deadbeat were ending. Human Lee Seoha—and Porern—now faced three crises.
"What a headache..."
First: Kiara. She'd leave the orphanage at sixteen—this year. It wouldn't end with a sweet 'live happily ever after.' No, she'd harvest my neck as a parting gift.
Worse, I still hadn't fathomed her true feelings.
Second: my lifespan. To stem the dwindling days, I needed sacrifices...
No need to elaborate.
And the last? It exploded from an unexpected angle.
From my sickbed, I started sifting through the piled letters. Nominal 'orphanage director' or not, I had to at least pretend to review paperwork.
Letters like these were usually lucky charms—or worse.
But amid the trash heap, I found it.
May the blessings and protection of the Goddess be with you this coming spring.
To the esteemed Director of Porern Orphanage.
We extend our deepest gratitude for your tireless labors in caring for the children nurtured under Her name.
Regrettably, the relief funds scheduled for distribution this spring will be delayed. Recent frequent monster outbreaks near Changes, combined with temple repair costs, have exceeded the church's projected expenditures...
The payment date will be announced at a later time.
May peace and happiness abound.
Southern Church Treasurer, Alter.
Survival plays out on multiple fronts. I'd fixated on blades at my throat, but what truly chokes people isn't force—it's money.
"No word on how delayed. Why cut aid suddenly? Is this normal?"
Cheap paper if broke. The fancy stock and seal just pissed me off more.
Porern fell under the Southern Church geographically and administratively. Second harshest after the northern snowfields, yet the church's first budget slash targeted kids? Absurd.
Was I still maladjusted from the 21st century?
[Not unheard of. Not rare either. Nominally monsters and repairs—sounds legit.]
"'Nominally' means there's a real reason."
[Back alley tributes dried up suddenly. Gotta squeeze elsewhere.]
"Back alley tributes?"
[Your cut from the slums.]
My slum rampage boomeranging like this?
[Receivers gotta pay up too, y'know.]
Ugh. The filthy adult world.
Malkor's bribes flowed to priests, priests to higher-ups, and so on. With that chain snapped, priests were squeezing us to cover tribute to their bosses.
This nonsense was screwing us over.
"...How much money we got left?"
[Plenty for me solo.]
"For nine people?"
[...]
Math didn't add up. Eight kids alone guzzled funds on basics. No extravagance—just true necessities.
'Might have to cut the kids' meals if push comes...'
Selfish gripe maybe, but that was a line I refused to cross.
"Oh, not the first time—how'd you handle it usually?"
[Had a backup for extra mouths...]
Drastically fewer mouths...
I locked eyes with mirror-Luagwen.
....
"...Don't wanna know."
[Curious? I'll spill.]
Mind reeling, I flung open the window for air.
Days of adaptation let me control the Evil God aura sight somewhat. Sensing it drained stamina regardless of will, so I'd drilled lying down for daily functionality.
Finally, a smog-free view. The garden, hinting at spring's green, hosted a few kids at play.
'Edward and Cadellin, right?'
Boy and girl, pure 'simple country kid' vibes. Among the kitchen haulers my first day post-possession.
Unlike Charlie or Alice, they feared me like the rest—no real chats even months later.
'Still eating separately...'
Shared meals build bonds, but terrifying kids into sickness wasn't my hobby.
They seemed comfy among themselves, romping freely.
"They shouldn't do that."
[Right? Handle it, handle it clean.]
"..."
Edward poked Cadellin, tag ensued—she chased and smacked him right back. Rinse, repeat.
No words exchanged with them, but one glance screamed it.
'Edward likes Cadellin.'
Teasing the crush psychology. Hating it but calling it affection? Baffling.
'If I could talk, I'd advise him.'
That playful lightweight image would bite him later...
Years on, grown-up regret: 'I liked her first.' Obvious as day.
See?
...Wait, the novel had a similar punk.
"...Oh?"
[What now?]
Back to the map.
It was marked somewhere...
[What's up?]
"Found it. A way to solve everything at once."
Money. Kiara. All of it.
Central district? No.
Treatment center, sewers, casino... Merchant guild, brothel, tavern...
Had to be here somewhere. The spot I sought.
...There.
I jabbed a finger at one amid the spots even Luagwen recognized.
[Monster House?]
[Yep.]
[Earns cash, scouts sacrifices—not bad. But necessary?]
"Not the place. The person tied to it."
I flashed a grin to soothe her reluctance.
Did Kiara know? Best if her regressions recalled it. Even blind, a masterstroke.
'Around now, he ran off—prodigal rampage central.'
The world orbited Kiara.
But plenty straddled its edges, protagonists or not.
'Sub-male lead of 『Lady of Four Lives』.'
Noble house's wastrel bastard.
'Ludric Biern.'
Remembered. My one shot at a rich noble hookup.