Prologue: Possessed as the Lord's Trash Son in a Romance Fantasy
I'd possessed the son of a lord in a romance fantasy novel. A fairly decent lord's delinquent son, at that. The scumbag who picks a fight with the protagonist early on and gets utterly wrecked—that was me.
Possession stories like this are everywhere these days, so there's nothing more to say. If I kept going down this path, I'd get tangled up with the heroine, receive a proper thrashing, pull some desperate villain bullshit for revenge, and die cleanly.
'Then, wouldn't it be enough to just stay as far away from the heroine as possible?'
I had no intention of recklessly stirring trouble and stealing the protagonist's golden opportunity. Nor did I plan to borrow this rare second chance to fight in his place and hit the jackpot myself.
'Meet the heroine, lose decisively, apologize sincerely, and live a good life from there.'
It was a rural territory anyway, so holing up quietly and living low-key wouldn't be hard. Hell, I could just abandon everything and head to the Academy in the city for some "study abroad." The protagonist's overpowered abilities would handle all the other problems on their own. In the end, I'd stroll back with a degree, leisurely inherit the territory as the successor. I was confident I could pull it off. Sincerely.
"Ah, damn."
That was before a blue circular rift appeared right in front of my eyes.
Commonly known as a Gate. When that timer hits zero, it surges, and monsters come pouring out. And I was the lord's son who had to stop it.
In other words, gates had broken out in the romance fantasy.
