The Reverse Harem's Dirty Secret
I transmigrated into a video game I used to play.
The title of that game was The Powerful Male Leads of a RoFan Are Obsessed with Me. Even though more than a decade had slipped by since I first arrived in this world, that ridiculous title was something I could never manage to forget. While the finer details of my past life had grown hazy with time, I remembered well enough that I had once been an utterly ordinary citizen living in the modern world.
Then came that fateful day. A game I picked up purely on a whim completely derailed the course of my life.
I had originally set out to play a standard male-oriented dating sim, but thanks to some bizarre misclick or algorithm fluke, what downloaded onto my screen was an otome game targeted entirely at women. My first instinct was to delete it immediately. But since I had already gone through the trouble of downloading it, I figured I might as well kill a few minutes before wiping it from my drive. To my utter surprise, the damned thing was actually captivating, and before I knew it, I was hooked.
To summarize the lore and premise: in a fairly conventional romance-fantasy setting, an array of ridiculously powerful male leads fell madly in love with the female protagonist. Naturally, their courtship escalated straight into obsessive fixation, causing catastrophe after catastrophe across the realm. As the player, my job was to clean up the fallout from their deranged antics and pave the way for those powerful men to win the heroine's heart.
What set this game apart from typical dating sims was its unique framing. Instead of unfolding from the heroine's perspective, the story was viewed through the eyes of the male leads. On top of that, the player wasn't treated as anything resembling a proper protagonist. As I mentioned, the player character was strictly an errand boy, a thankless supporting extra whose only purpose was to assist the suitors.
Yet, because this side character was the linchpin responsible for nudging the heroine into opening her heart to each man, he was entirely indispensable. You couldn't finish the story without him.
That necessity came at a steep price. I suffered through absolute hell mopping up the unhinged messes left behind by the male leads' bizarre, out-of-pocket behavior. I watched bad ending after bad ending roll across my screen, nearly smashing my keyboard in sheer despair on more occasions than I could count. But every time I cracked a difficult route and unlocked a golden happy ending, the rush of accomplishment was so sweet that I simply couldn't put the controller down. When I finally cleared every single branch and unlocked the elusive, coveted Reverse Harem Ending, I was so overwhelmed with emotion that tears welled up in my eyes.
Having chewed, swallowed, and thoroughly milked every last scrap of content the game had to offer, I drifted off to sleep with a contented sigh, thinking I would go hunting for a fresh game tomorrow.
The next morning, when I cracked open my eyes, I had somehow been yanked inside the game world itself.
Worse yet, I hadn't possessed one of the glamorous suitors. I had become Hans—the exact same miserable errand boy character I had piloted through all those agonizing playthroughs.
When the reality of my predicament first dawned on me, my mind shattered into a million pieces. I literally slammed my head against the nearest wall, knocking myself out, waking up, panicking, and knocking myself out all over again. But once the cold realization set in that giving myself a concussion wouldn't summon a portal back to modern Seoul, I forced my gears to turn. I had to figure out how to survive in this absurd reality.
At first, I flirted with the idea of ignoring the original plot entirely and living a quiet, unremarkable civilian life. But whether it was some twisted narrative inertia or the sheer malice of fate, no matter how desperately I tried to steer clear of trouble, I inevitably crossed paths with the main cast. Swept up in the exact same brutal ordeals Hans suffered in the lore, I found myself getting dragged through the dirt daily. It didn't take long to realize that hiding was a death sentence. If I wanted any peace, my only realistic option was to step into Hans's intended role, guide the male leads through their courtship, and drag the story straight toward its ultimate conclusion.
From that moment on, I threw everything I had into orchestrating the romance, bending over backward to help the suitors conquer the heart of Emily, our heroine. And after getting ground into paste just like in the game—no, suffering ten times worse than the original script ever dared depict—I finally brought them to the promised climax.
“Emily. My duty as The Hero might be part of why I want to save this world... but the biggest reason is you. So... once this world is saved, won’t you stay at my side?”
“Emily, you are breathtakingly radiant today as well. Would you grant me the privilege of unraveling the exquisite mystery that is you? For the rest of my days, that is.”
“I do not know how to speak sweet nothings. But like the eternal, steadfast ice of the North... no, even if all the frost of the North were to thaw and vanish into mist... you are the one person I will protect. Always.”
“Never pull away from me or vanish from my sight again. Under this brilliant sun, the only woman permitted to stand at my side is you.”
“Emily is my most precious person! For you, I would gladly share my prime cuts of meat! Here, eat up!”
The moment I finally reached the legendary true ending of the game—the Reverse Harem Ending.
When those five passionate confessions rang out in unison, I celebrated like a madman inside my head. And Emily, the radiant heroine of the story, gracefully accepted every single one of their vows with tears of joy in her eyes.
Having witnessed the grand finale with my own two eyes, I breathed a massive sigh of relief, convinced that my decade of backbreaking servitude was finally over. I thought I could kick back, put my feet up, and coast through the rest of my days in sweet, unbothered luxury.
Or so I thought, until I laid eyes on the morning dispatch.
What the actual fuck...?