Chapter 81
Chapter 81
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: 81. Protagonist
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Silence continued.
We were riding in a carriage summoned by the count, who had been remodeled into Song Arin's father, heading to some unknown place.
I tried to look outside by turning my gaze to the window, but the curtains were drawn, so I couldn't see anything.
I put force into pulling back the curtain, but it didn't budge an inch.
I quickly racked my brain.
This carriage interior is probably part of the 'play' as well.
The view outside the window likely isn't rendered.
"..."
I looked at Song Arin.
Perhaps shocked from the earlier incident, she said nothing, her face serious as she sank into thought.
"Arin."
"..."
"Arin."
"...Ah, yes. ...Ah, ...Father."
Song Arin's words trembled slightly at the end, but the count seemed not to notice, gazing at her with a voice full of worry.
"Your expression doesn't look good. What's worrying you?"
"..."
Song Arin bit her lower lip hard, then looked at the count as if nothing was wrong.
"It's nothing. I just haven't been feeling well today..."
"Oh dear. You've had a hard time."
The count glanced at me.
It felt like he wanted me to say something.
I cleared my throat, then opened my mouth.
"It seems she caught a bit of a chill from the night breeze."
"Is that so?"
The count furrowed his brow and looked at me with curiosity.
"That's strange. Usually, Jaeheon, you notice Arin's condition right away and take good care of her."
So I was that kind of person.
"You both look out of sorts. I hope nothing's happened?"
The count looked at me and Song Arin worriedly.
"...No, Father. Nothing."
After a moment of silence, Song Arin finally spoke.
"As Jaeheon said, I think I'm just a bit tired."
"I see. Carl went to see you but came back alone, so I thought it might be something like that."
The count nodded.
"Go inside and rest. Jaeheon, you just take care of Arin today and can retire to your room early."
"Thank you."
I rubbed my throbbing temples and expressed my thanks to the count.
*
S#. 3 Song Arin's Room
"..."
As soon as we got off the carriage, we were inside a large room.
It felt just like we'd arrived at the mansion and gone up to the room, with that whole process skipped.
Song Arin looked around too, then sat wearily on her ridiculously huge bed.
"...Hoo."
She let out a deep sigh and flopped onto the bed.
"Are you okay?"
"No."
Song Arin kicked off her heels in response to my question.
"Not okay at all."
She gritted her teeth.
"I thought I'd seen every kind of horrific thing life had to offer, but these guys do things worse than dying."
"...You're right. We need to resolve this quickly."
"Yeah."
She sat up again and looked at me.
"For now, let's sort out the characters."
"There are four characters so far."
I leaned against the wall and looked at her.
"First, Song Arin. Heroine, or maybe the protagonist."
"Then you're the male lead?"
"I doubt it."
Why would I be the male lead? I couldn't figure out a single element that screamed protagonist.
"Carl's probably the male lead."
Song Arin's face soured at my words.
"Isn't he a victim too?"
"Right."
"...Can't even treat him badly."
She let out a deep sigh.
"And finally, we have our count."
Song Arin fell silent for a moment at that, then spoke.
"...First, let's think about our goal."
"First, we need to consider what's different about this play from the last one."
Differences from the previous play.
"First, the genre's different."
The first play we'd fallen into was pure horror thriller. An unknown woman shows up and kills me.
"And then there are the characters."
No connections to characters before. Song Arin and I had used the trick of syncing our thoughts to end up in the same play, but this time, everyone's turning into characters.
"...And one more thing that's nagging at me."
I fiddled with my stabbing temples as I looked at Song Arin.
"Ever since we got here, my temples have been throbbing nonstop?"
"...Mental attacks happening in real time."
Song Arin crossed her arms as she replied.
"You don't feel anything, Song Arin?"
"...I've put a suggestion on myself for now."
Suggestion?
She read the question in my expression and explained.
"The suggestion that I am myself, 'Song Arin.'"
"That works?"
"No reason it wouldn't."
Song Arin gazed out the window.
Moonlight shone brightly on the two of us, but everything else was frozen like a painting, utterly still.
"Alright. So what do we do?"
"First, let's think about the play's title."
[A Midsummer Night's Dream]
"...Just the title screams romance."
"Only if you judge by the title."
"Then to stop this play, maybe I shouldn't connect with anyone?"
"Let's go with that for now?"
A Midsummer Night's Dream.
"...You'll go back, right?"
Song Arin looked at me from where she sat on the bed.
"That's the plan."
"...Got it."
She nodded.
"Yeah. Go sleep."
"You're not scared to sleep alone or anything, are you?"
"You trying to get killed? If the count catches you sleeping here, what's your excuse?"
"I don't want to sleep."
"Out."
Song Arin shook her fist, and I chuckled as I stood and got ready to leave.
In that instant, the world went black.
S#. 5 Song Arin's Room
I blinked,
"...Huh?"
And there I was, standing before Song Arin in her negligee pajamas.
"..."
What the hell?
I'd clearly stood up, intending to head to what I figured was my room.
And somehow, I was back in Song Arin's room.
No sense of having slept, but my body felt oddly refreshed, and my clothes were neater than yesterday—enough to send chills down my spine.
Bright morning sunlight illuminated my face and hers,
And she was glaring at me, brows furrowed tight.
"Not funny."
"Song Arin."
I looked at her gravely, and she seemed to grasp the situation, meeting my eyes with equal seriousness.
"What happened?"
"How did I leave yesterday?"
"What do you mean, how—"
"Now."
She stammered under my serious gaze, then spoke.
"...You just left, duh. Only one door?"
She pointed at the door.
"...No memory."
"What?"
I explained everything to a baffled Song Arin, and her face grew serious as she listened.
"What? That didn't happen."
"It didn't?"
"After you left, maids came, changed my clothes, and I went straight to bed. No separate dreams, but I definitely registered sleeping."
"Me coming back in?"
"You just greeted me and came in."
Her face paled as she said it.
"You said, 'Good morning, miss.' ...And walked in."
"..."
Our eyes met.
"No memory?"
"None."
"You don't think someone hijacked your personality or..."
Her face even paler now, Song Arin started prodding me all over. Checking for broken bones? Or to see if I was someone else?
"Doesn't seem like it."
The headache was still there, strong as ever. No traces of anything off.
"At least not mental manipulation."
If anything, it felt like something more than that.
"My theory..."
Time got skipped for me, but not for Song Arin.
Why?
Didn't even need to check the manual.
Anyone who's read books would know this one.
"You're the protagonist, Song Arin."
She's the lead, I'm supporting.
The stage turns on her, builds around her—everyone else just mechanically does their part.
Put simply, backstage.
"...Yeah. You don't look like someone else to me."
Still pale, she muttered and swallowed hard.
"If anything happens, tell me. I'll help."
"Don't worry too much."
"...I'm not that worried?"
Her ghostly pale face said otherwise.
"Anyway, starting today, let's stir things up."
"How?"
"Well... first—"
The door flew open with a bang as I started to say more, and a woman strode in.
"Good heavens, butler! The miss isn't even fully changed yet—you can't just barge in like this! Even if you've known each other since you were kids! She's a grown woman now!"
She was an older woman.
I quickly scanned above her head.
[Name: Maid]
[Age: 46 years old]
[Specialty: Theater Actor]
[Talent: Theater Actor]
[Background: Right now, she is just a maid.]
[Weakness: As long as she is alive when the play ends.]
She'd been consumed by the play too.
"...Sorry."
"Oh, honestly!
Hands on her hips, she gave me a playful glare and pointed at the door.
"Then get out—"
"No."
"Miss?"
Song Arin cut her off.
"Let him stay. He can turn around."
"Miss, you've never—"
"I want him here."
She spoke clearly, staring down the maid.
"No other opinions."
"...Sorry, miss."
Song Arin gave me a look, and I turned my back.
Her way of looking out for me.
Stay close, don't lose yourself.
Rustling clothes, then a slender hand tapped my shoulder.
"All dressed."
"..."
I turned to look.
Not like yesterday's dress—a plain white one that looked somewhat normal.
Our eyes met, and she grabbed the doorknob.
"Let's go."
"Understood."
The moment she opened the door,
S#. 7 Cathedral
We stood before a cathedral.
Suddenly?
I thought time skips didn't happen around Song Arin?
I hurriedly scanned our surroundings.
"...Arin!"
"Carl."
How'd things progress to this?
Carl knelt before her.
Naturally, I checked above the man's head.
[Name: Carl?]
[Age: 2X years]
[Specialty: Theater Actor]
[Talent: Theater Actor]
[Background: If not love, he chooses only death.]
[Weakness: As long as he is alive when the play ends.]
"If not you, I have no choice but to die!"
He pressed a knife to his throat and slashed across.
A geyser of blood sprayed out.