Past Life Memories
"Gahhh!!"
Sudden, excruciating pain ripped through my head, forcing a scream out of me. It wasn't just a headache—massive chunks of memory were flooding in.
Once the pain dulled a bit, I steadied my staggering body against the wall and sorted through the recollections.
A guy in his twenties living in South Korea. Name: Kim Yu-han. No parents from birth, so life was never smooth. Nothing exceptional about him, just average all around. Barely got into a Seoul-area university, got discharged from the military, and then bam—dead in a traffic accident. A life that was short if short, long if long, all crammed into my skull.
"What a rough ride. But the real problem is that this rough life is my past one."
Kim Yu-han's memories weren't someone else's. No proof, but I instinctively knew he was my previous incarnation.
"So after living that worthless life, I got reborn... into this body, huh."
I pushed off the wall.
Crackle. The wall crumbled a little, but I ignored it and looked at the mirror nearby.
The mirror was filthy with dust, and crappy quality to boot. Still good enough to see my current face.
Blond tanned thug. Shortened to Geumtaeyang.
Doesn't look like the poster boy for NTR from my past life, though. Not quite.
His hair was more dull yellow than blond. Never tanned—born this skin color. Looks like a punk, but his behavior and history weren't. Just a mischievous troublemaker.
"Haa... and even the name's girly as hell."
Yuran La Toypus. A name that didn't fit a Geumtaeyang at all, with that "Yuran" part.
Back at the academy, I'd seen a few girls with the same name as mine. Not that my parents planned it.
While I was in my mom's belly, the mage-doctor who came for checkups declared me a girl, so they named me Yuran. But when I popped out, I was a sturdy boy, not some delicate orchid of a girl.
That quack mage-doctor should've been executed for insulting nobility... but nah. The Toypus family didn't have the pull.
Just the sole noble house in the western desert of the empire, handed an empty earl title. All show.
We had zero power to demand execution from an imperial mage, let alone a royal one.
'Heard he got a light pay cut.'
Any other noble house would've thrown him in jail at minimum. Lucky bastard.
"Haa..."
I let out deep sighs. It tied back to my name.
Yuran La Toypus. I knew this name—not from my current life, but from past-life memories.
A novel I read during military service. Title? Fuzzy. Something about the Hero. Plot? Also fuzzy. Just major events stuck; minor stuff gone. Light read to kill boring army days.
Roughly, part 1 was academy harem stuff. Part 2, Hero's exploits in the North. With a harem, of course.
And in that novel... my name appeared. Even in the side stories.
(Can't remember which chapter.)
[Heard? Monsters went berserk in the west.]
A woman with golden hair—Kairen Fel Lawilpes, the empire's third princess and heir to the throne—spoke to the man beside her.
Her impression was icy cold, but it was her charm.
[Yeah. While we were slaying the Demon King in the North...]
The Hero, Arthur, picked up her words.
[Good thing killing the Demon King wiped them out too, from what I heard. But... lots of casualties...]
[Right. And one was an earl, I think. Name was... same academy as us, right?]
Kairen tilted her head like she really couldn't recall.
Arthur found it cute, but remembered the dead earl's name and answered seriously.
[Yuran La Toypus.]
[Ah, yeah. That was it.]
[Not like we were close, but hearing this doesn't sit right.]
Arthur's memory was sharp enough not to forget a rival.
A vague side story memory. And my death in it.
I collapsed in front of the mirror, yelling.
"If only I'd remembered a few years earlier!!!"
I could've sucked up to that asshole, no matter how much he grated. Got chummy.
Then, when monsters hit my territory later, I'd have options.
Arthur. Nerdy looks and vibe despite the name, but a legit god-chosen Hero.
Borrow his help, territory saved, I live, happy life for all.
Asshole, but a Hero. And I, idiot, picked fights with my fake earl status.
He started it, sure, but past-life me would've endured. Current me? Temperamental.
Born rowdy, parents died to monsters during academy days. No money, territory dirt-poor—not average poor, starving poor.
Biggest issues: water and food, survival basics.
Suddenly lord of that shithole? Personality twisted inevitable.
"Huu... but I don't wanna die. Gotta think of something."
Luckily, just hit adulthood. Fresh academy grad earl. End of original part 1—time on my side.
Academy taught management, high-level knowledge. Useless to me now. Barely paid attention anyway.
"Blech, fucking tastes like shit."
Throat parched, I squeezed the cactus on the bedside desk, slurping the juice. Slimy, faintly fishy.
Territory short on water—even I drink cactus juice. Limited to six a day.
If the earl's like this, imagine the peasants. Always thirsty.
Food same. Desert, no water—no livestock, no crops but cactus.
Utter shithole. Silver lining: empire doesn't tax us.
"Would be heartless otherwise. No support, no tax."
No royals around—cursed freely, pumped myself up.
"Haha. Whatever. Gotta hustle. Reborn for this—can't die. I'll thrash around. Fix monsters, territory, stack cash, live like a proper noble earl, suck sweet honey, bite and lick young ladies till I drop. Let's go!"
...or so I thought.
"Maybe just die."
A week later, motivation crushed.
Past-life memories and novel knowledge? Zero help.
Other novel protags use modern know-how for territory dev, business, happy lives. Not me.
My uni major? Data crunching on computers. Useless.
"Status window..."
Status window. Word I'd muttered most this week.
Common in regression/possession/reincarnation or fantasy genres.
Dropped in this world? Gimme powers, right? Called it daily—no blue screen, just hot desert wind.
Looked like a muttering psycho, but no servants left in the manor post-parents' death. All fled.
"Fuck, god! You shitty bastard!"
Hero means gods exist. Reincarnation plus memories? God's involved.
Cursed the heavens—no lightning.
Eh? Already died once, gave second chance—be grateful? Bullshit.
Tried bitter scorpion stew that numbs your tongue? Thirsty daily, no water. Peasants' lives hellish, no expectations—even they don't approach me.
Go outside? Just "Still alive, huh" stares.
"Why ain't this an isekai happy romcom OP story..."
Hero was Korean too—died, reborn village boy. Childhood friend, Hero pick means pretty heroines galore.
Jealous, straight up. Capital with academy? Empire heart. Nothing like my dump.
"Capital was... peak romance novel."
Academy Hero tale with modern touches here and there. For readers? Hero? Dunno.
"So damn good. Tender beef with fancy wine sauce. Rich coffee... ah, drooling. Gotta conserve spit."
Recalled academy foods—wasted moisture salivating. Dreamlike compared to now.
"Whoring money or not... tasted undeniable."
Dragged heavy body up, peered out window. Daytime—no one on streets. Nothing to see anyway.
"Hero asshole's probably in the North now."
Heroines piled on him. Unlike him, I felt listless, staring at sand-swept territory.
"Gonna build my own harem too."
Surrounded by beauties like Arthur, living Geumtaeyang life. Kyaa, sweet dream.
Goal set. Broke as hell, crap territory—no harem yet. Fuel to push forward.
Improve land, stack wealth, fill manor with selected pretties.
"Kyaa. Oh, minus Hero's heroines, of course."
Protagonist women—top-tier looks. Tempting? Hell yeah.
But no. Can't lust, can't covet. They gotta help Hero save continent.
Or no stable future for me.
"Noooope."
Thinking of them twitched my dick. Chastised it quick.
Geumtaeyang-level beast, but obeys me.
'Good boy. But no means no.'
Me, unmentioned in part 2, chasing heroines? Derails plot—idiot move.
They save world. I save territory, build my harem.
Goal locked. Time to move.