Chapter 1
Chapter 1
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Grada's Prodigal
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***
[The Count's Family Delinquent Who Fires Magic Bullets]
* Author: Jun-gang
* Book Summary
Special forces operative K, betrayed by his comrades while slaying monsters.
He opens his eyes to find himself as Arthur Julius, the delinquent son of a count's family in another world.
"I want to live peacefully this time around."
But there's a conspiracy by trash trying to devour his family.
"If you mess with me, I'll kill you all."
Arthur draws his gun, heading down the path of a tyrant!
***
▣ Chapter 1
Bang! Bang!
In a place bombarded by a hail of explosives, a single man was running for his life with everything he had.
"Hurry!"
A Black man waiting in the Black Hawk (UH-60) shouted as he unleashed the machine gun mercilessly.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat—.
Bullets flew like flashes of light, piercing the monsters' bodies and sending them crashing down.
Thanks to the covering fire, the man made it safely aboard the helicopter.
"Go, go!"
At the Black man's shout, the Black Hawk lifted off, aiming its M240 machine gun at the enemies below.
Dudududududu—.
Shells poured down.
Then, Hellfire anti-tank missiles launched from both wings.
Fwoooosh—.
Boom! Boom! KABOOM!
It turned the surroundings into a scorched wasteland before leisurely pulling away.
"Whew—."
The Black man let out a long breath and turned his head to the side.
There, as always, the greatest warrior leaned against the wall, staring outside.
"No injuries?"
K nodded.
It was the usual exchange, feeling as natural as ever.
The Black man asked again.
"What about the target?"
"Eliminated."
"You're sure it's dead this time?"
"I confirmed its head exploding."
"As expected of K. This damn endless war will be over soon. All thanks to you."
The Black man looked at K with eyes full of respect, then spoke to the pilot.
"Report mission accomplished."
"Roger."
As the pilot finished reporting to base, aerial monsters appeared ahead.
"What the hell are these?!"
He quickly fired the machine gun.
Dudududududu—.
The creatures scattered in all directions.
They were trying to break free at full speed when—
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Something showed up on radar.
"What now?"
The pilot's eyes widened as he turned his head.
Two missiles were incoming.
"Why are there missiles...?"
He wore a bewildered expression.
It seemed too late to evade.
"Damn it!"
The moment K glanced toward the missiles' origin, his face twisted.
Beyond them, two friendly Apaches came into view.
'You bastards! After all I've survived...'
KABOOM!
***
"Young Master...."
"I want to be alone."
"......Understood."
A short while later, the quiet sound of a door closing echoed.
A beautiful boy with black hair and skin so pale it seemed ghostly leaned against the window, gazing at the sky.
It was a brilliant blue, like spilled paint.
A month had passed since he woke up.
The helicopter he'd been in had been shot down by friendly fire.
He'd been engulfed in the explosion before he could even escape.
He'd staked his life to complete the mission, only to be met with betrayal.
He'd sworn, even in death, that he would never forgive them.
Yet when he opened his eyes, he was in a place straight out of a fantasy movie.
At first, it was utter chaos.
But as time passed, he gradually accepted his situation. Now, he was somewhat adjusted.
Arthur Julius.
Not Kang Tae-su from Korea, but the youngest son of the Julius Count Family.
The strong figure who had led America's top Tier 1 special forces was nowhere to be found.
The mirror showed only a frail 17-year-old boy.
He'd pondered endlessly why this happened, but there was no way to know.
So he accepted reality and decided to live this life fully.
He harbored no more questions.
Instead, he vowed never to be stained with blood in this world.
During his time here, he'd learned a few things.
The Julius Count Family, which ruled Grada Territory, had once been so renowned it was called the "Empire's Spear."
But with the key figures of its golden age passing one by one, and even "Malcolm Count" dying of illness, it was barely clinging to its legacy now.
Arthur had two older brothers: the eldest showed talent in swordsmanship, while the second was obsessed with magic and rarely left his room unless absolutely necessary—a total hermit.
Both were too young and inexperienced to lead the count family, so Countess "Medlin" was holding things together.
But even she had her shortcomings, so the family's standing among the empire's counts and its influence on neighboring countries weren't what they used to be.
Setting those issues aside, it was a peaceful, pleasant place to live.
Above all, as the count's son, no one bothered him.
Except for one person: Medlin, Arthur's mother.
Coincidentally, he'd awakened just as Arthur had fallen from a tree and hovered on the brink of death for three days.
Everything was unfamiliar and confusing, leaving him restless and anxious.
She couldn't get that image out of her head, her worry endless.
Because of that, he had to visit her once a day for a check-in to reassure her he was fine.
Knock knock—.
Andrew, Arthur's squire, gently opened the door and entered.
"Young Master...."
Without a word, Arthur turned and left the room with him.
The count's office.
Andrew escorted Arthur to the office door, then stepped aside.
As Arthur entered, Medlin greeted him with a loving smile.
"Come on in!"
As always, she patted the chair beside her, inviting him to sit.
He wasn't thrilled, but he obediently took the seat next to her.
Medlin stroked Arthur's hair and asked.
"How's your head? Does it still hurt?"
"It's fine now."
"Even so, your mother is always worried. You must tell me if anything feels off, even a little."
"Yes."
Arthur gave a curt reply and stood.
Medlin asked with a disappointed look.
"Leaving already?"
"I plan to go for a walk starting today."
"Good, you've been cooped up in your room, so it must have been stifling. Go with Andrew."
Arthur bowed silently and stepped out. Then he spoke to Andrew, who waited outside.
"Let's get some fresh air."
"Yes."
Andrew led the way.
As Arthur followed, he sensed someone behind him and stopped, turning around.
Medlin stood at the door, watching him with eyes full of concern.
"Hmm...."
Arthur let out a low hum and resumed walking.
A short while later.
Arthur climbed to the ramparts and surveyed the surroundings.
Houses dotted the vast plains, forming villages, with children playing happily.
A warm spring breeze blew gently under the sunlight, wrapping around him comfortably.
'Nice.'
A faint smile tugged at his lips unbidden.
Andrew, beside him, blurted out upon seeing it.
"You seem to have changed a lot, Young Master."
"......?"
Arthur erased his smile and looked at him.
Andrew quickly bowed.
"I'm sorry."
Arthur had only stared, yet Andrew trembled as if guilty of a grave sin. It piqued his curiosity.
"What's wrong? And what do you mean I've changed a lot?"
"W-Well...."
Andrew looked extremely troubled, unsure what to do.
Then, from below the ramparts, heavy breathing approached as someone ran up.
Arthur turned toward the stairs.
A moment later.
"Huff, huff, huff."
A sturdy black-haired man appeared, drenched in sweat.
Wesley Julius, the count family's eldest son.
Seeing Arthur on the ramparts, he tilted his head in surprise and approached.
"What brings you here?"
"Getting some air."
"Life's full of surprises. Did you greet Mother?"
Arthur nodded, and Wesley glanced at Andrew, gesturing with his eyes as if asking something.
Andrew shook his head with a stiff expression.
Wesley looked back at Arthur.
"A breath of fresh air might jog your memory. But I like you as you are now."
"......?"
Arthur gave him a puzzled look.
Wesley smiled meaningfully, gripped Arthur's shoulder firmly, and continued.
"No matter what, you're my little brother."
He took a deep breath, then dashed along the ramparts.
Arthur watched his retreating back and asked Andrew.
"What did you just ask him?"
"Ah, that...."
"Looks like it's hard to say."
Arthur gazed out at the vast fields beyond the castle.
"Just what kind of guy was Arthur Julius?"
"Y-Young Master...."
"Don't be burdened. Tell me. Who knows—maybe hearing it will bring my memories back."
"But...."
"Why? Some reason you can't?"
"N-No."
Andrew's eyes widened as he waved his hands frantically.
"Then speak."
Arthur sat on the ramparts and looked at Andrew.
Under the persistent urging, Andrew reluctantly began.
"Madam strictly forbade me from saying anything...."
"It's fine. I'll pretend I didn't hear."
"You really must. Otherwise, I'll be thrown out of the castle."
"Got it."
Andrew flinched back at Arthur's slight frown.
Calming his pounding heart, he cautiously spoke.
"You, Young Master...."
Arthur listened silently until he finished, then nodded.
"I see."
"Y-Young Master...."
Andrew bowed tensely.
If the memories returned, he didn't know what fate awaited him.
Maybe Arthur would shove him off the wall.
He swallowed dryly, watching for a reaction.
But Arthur's response was odd.
He just sat there on the ramparts, staring outside.
It seemed to have no effect.
Relieved yet pitying him, Andrew thought.
'Young Master....'
Complex emotions played across Andrew's face.
Meanwhile, as Arthur listened to Andrew, memories flooded back like magic.
But he kept only the essentials and buried the rest.
A lecher who lived for booze and women, abusing his status to bully others—a villain among villains.
A total scumbag, in a word.
No wonder the territory's people called him "Grada's Prodigal."
Andrew had feared him because of all the awful things he'd done.
The tree fall and coma were lies too.
He'd actually been too drugged up to move.
'Pathetic.'
Pretending not to have his memories seemed best for everyone.
"......No use."
"Don't be disheartened. Your memories will return someday."
Arthur gave a wry smile and looked at Andrew.
"You're not really hoping for that, are you?"
"I-I...."
"It's fine. I'm good like this."
"Young Master...."
'I like you better now too.'
Andrew swallowed the rest inwardly.
They stayed on the ramparts until sunset, then descended.
As Arthur headed back to the castle with Andrew—
People came running in panic.
"Monsters have appeared!"
"They've come down again!"
A knight at the gate blew his horn.
Bwooooom—.
The heavy sound echoed through the castle.
"What's going on?"
Wesley arrived first, followed by knights gathering one by one.
Wesley listened to the villagers and ordered the knights.
"We march to the western border! Prepare quickly."
"Yes, sir!"
The knights bustled about.
'What is this?'
From his memories, the last monster sighting in the territory was a century ago.
Arthur tilted his head, and Andrew, noticing, quickly said.
"Monsters started appearing the day after you lost consciousness, Young Master."
"Hmm."
An ominous feeling crept in.
Kieeeek—!
A chilling, eerie cry reverberated.
"This sound...."
Arthur's face twisted as memories of the monsters that invaded Earth surfaced.
"Charge!"
Wesley led the knight order out.
Arthur watched them go, his face hardening.
He could never forget.
That day etched into his mind.
October 8, 2030.
A hole tore open in the sky, and alien creatures descended to ravage the world.
It was the same cry those creatures had made.
'No way... here too....'
