Something straight out of a novel happened to me.
When I opened my eyes, I was inside a novel.
*Iron-Blooded Knight*
An epic saga of unyielding resolve led by the ice-cold hero, Haviel Asrahan.
I'd tumbled into that grand world's story.
As the drunken young master whom Haviel served in his unknown days.
At that moment, I had no idea.
This was the beginning of how I, a mere civil engineering student, would rise to become the guardian of an entire world.
♣
[The RP (Relationship Point) System has been activated.]
[You can earn RP by improving relationships with key characters.]
[Invest your earned RP to awaken talent skills.]
[Current RP held: 0]
A bizarre message blared in my head like an alarm.
What the hell was RP? And skill generation?
*'I'm tired. So sleepy.'*
Kim Suho tossed and turned under the covers, frowning.
It was a hassle.
Of course it was.
Classes during the day.
Part-time jobs at night, sweating it out.
And then, for a bit of a break, staying up all night reading a novel. Being exhausted was only natural.
No, it was practically a miracle.
*'At least I finished all my assignments.'*
He could sleep in thirty minutes later than usual.
That thought brought a satisfied smile to his face.
But Suho's smile didn't last long.
"...Please wake up."
An unfamiliar voice rang out.
It was cold, yet crisp and sharp.
*'A dream?'*
Probably just something heard in his half-asleep daze.
Suho rolled over the other way.
But even that couldn't stop the voice from urging him again.
"You're late. It's time to get up, Lord Lloyd."
...Huh?
Not a dream.
The voice was clearly coming from right beside him.
*'How?'*
His mind snapped awake amid the daze.
This was a cramped 2-pyeong goshiwon room.
He always locked the door without fail.
Yet someone had come in and was talking to him?
Suho cautiously opened his eyes.
And before he knew it, his whole body went rigid.
"You're awake. At least you opened your eyes quickly today."
"..."
A silver-haired beauty sat primly by the bed.
Around twenty, maybe just.
Not a trace of a smile on his face.
It suited him perfectly, like a blade forged from eternal glacier frost.
"Haviel... Asrahan?"
Suho muttered without thinking.
No doubt about it.
The novel *Iron-Blooded Knight* that he'd pulled an all-nighter reading last night.
The illustration of its protagonist, Haviel Asrahan, looked exactly like that.
No, it was identical.
Even that smirk with just one corner of his mouth, elegant as a painting.
"You've finally remembered my name. Thank you."
"..."
His expression didn't look thankful at all.
"But why are you here?"
The words slipped out.
Haviel's smirk deepened slightly.
"Because your liege lord assigned me to guard you."
"Liege lord? Guard?"
"Indeed."
"Why?"
"To prepare for incidents like last night."
"Last night? I..."
"You were so drunk you couldn't even walk. You caused a ruckus at the tavern, smashing three tables, five chairs, nineteen plates, and six candlesticks. Oh, and you utterly wrecked the tavern owner's prized water buffalo horn decoration."
...I'm innocent.
For real.
I'd just been reading in my goshiwon.
Yet his head throbbed.
A hangover from booze he hadn't even drunk.
It felt a bit unfair.
"Sigh. Water first, then."
He wanted to clear his head.
He gulped down the water Haviel brought and looked around the bedroom.
Unfamiliar, clean, and spacious.
Worlds away from his dingy, yellow-walled 2-pyeong goshiwon.
*'This is pretty dope.'*
Could this really be a novel possession?
As a noble, no less?
Suho accepted this reality(?) for what it was.
Compared to scraping by alone in a goshiwon without family, it was paradise.
But something caught his eye.
"What's that?"
Suho pointed to the dresser opposite the bed.
A red paper was stuck on it, completely out of place.
Not just there.
The large bookshelf too.
The tea table.
Even the chair Haviel sat on.
And his own bed.
Every piece of furniture had a red tag plastered on it.
*'No way.'*
Suho swallowed dryly without realizing.
Haviel's answer confirmed his guess.
"Forgot already? Seizure marks. From yesterday."
"..."
A curt reply.
It jogged his memory.
The baron's family that Haviel served fell in the novel's early stages.
The baron and his wife got conned by a swindler, lost all their wealth and territory, and killed themselves.
What of the baron's eldest son, Lloyd?
He drowned in booze, fell ill, and died.
Afterward, Haviel built Lloyd's grave and left the territory.
That marked the grand epic's start, where protagonist Haviel Asrahan first stepped into the world.
*'So, I've possessed the wastrel young master who dies of alcoholism in the early part? Me?'*
The joy of becoming a noble fizzled fast.
This seemed like big trouble.
♣
"Sigh, it's real. Totally real."
A few hours later.
Suho—no, Lloyd—faced a mirror.
A full-length one, red seizure tag and all, just like the other furniture.
Inside it stood a sleek, black-haired man.
Lloyd.
*'That's me now, huh.'*
He still couldn't quite believe it.
But he didn't hate it.
Honestly, he liked it.
Life in Korea had just been a grind.
*'Nothing but suffering.'*
He'd been the only son in an ordinary family.
Took the CSAT like everyone else.
Became a civil engineering student.
But while he was in the army, disaster struck.
A real estate scam tightened around his parents' necks.
They passed, leaving massive debt.
House and assets seized.
He even renounced inheritance to dodge the rest.
*'Without low-income scholarships, I couldn't have stayed in school.'*
He'd studied diligently, at least.
But living expenses beyond tuition were another beast.
He bounced between part-time gigs.
Maintaining grades while working wasn't easy.
Cramped 2-pyeong goshiwon hole-in-the-wall.
Nosebleeds seven days a week.
The free rice and kimchi from the goshiwon were his last lifeline.
That's how Suho had clawed through yesterday too.
*'And now, for a breather, I read a fantasy novel after ages—and possess a noble in it.'*
Not some flashy duke or count.
Just a baron running a rural territory.
But Lloyd preferred that.
*'No getting dragged into big plots. Like treason.'*
In historical dramas, that was always the killer.
Even top noble houses ended if tangled in treason.
Straight-up no-mercy beheading.
*'Better a frontier baron. Got its own niche.'*
No massive incidents like treason.
Suck honey in the countryside comfortably.
Live out a long, stable life with that iron rice bowl mentality.
*'Of course, after settling the family's debt.'*
That was the issue.
*'Of all timings.'*
Haviel's explanation came back.
Seizure tags from yesterday.
Meaning, if possession had been a month or two earlier?
He could've stopped the swindler targeting the baron.
He half-wanted to grab the novel author by the collar.
*'But it's done. Gotta fix it.'*
Or the baron couple suicides next year.
The mansion and territory sold off, him a beggar.
*'Same as Korea.'*
That was a nightmare.
He wanted no part of that tail end.
Didn't want to relive the chaos.
To avoid it, he needed money somehow.
Enough to clear the family debt.
He glared at the mirror awhile.
Then something clicked.
Lloyd turned to Haviel, standing at attention.
"Hey."
"Yes, Lord Lloyd."
"Is our territory rich?"
"Pardon?"
"How much could we collect from the locals?"
"Taxes, you mean?"
"No, not that."
"Then?"
"Like that old IMF gold drive... Sigh, forget it."
Lloyd shook his head.
He'd wondered if taxing the people might help.
But nah.
No justification, it'd spark backlash for sure.
*'Won't even dent the debt anyway.'*
The novel's intro flashed back.
Two years to pay.
But before then, the couple suicides.
Endless debt collectors.
Ballooning interest.
A swamp of debt with no escape.
Crushed by it, they let go of hope.
*'Exactly one year from now.'*
And Lloyd dies five months later, puking blood in his tavern regular's room.
That was the early *Iron-Blooded Knight*.
*'Damn. Like a decalcomania.'*
Why was it a carbon copy of his family's Korean ordeal?
The more he thought, the fouler his mood.
"Tch. Let's take a walk."
Nothing clears a cluttered head like walking.
Walking was his habit from his Kim Suho days in Korea.
Maybe his only solace.
It cost nothing.
So he stepped out with Haviel.
Into the mansion hallway.
Ran into a lady coming the opposite way.
Refined, elegant air.
A gracefully aged middle-aged woman.
*'No way?'*
A name popped up.
Marbeia Frontera.
The baron's wife, Lloyd Frontera's mother.
Only her had that vibe in the mansion.
Lloyd swallowed dryly.
*'Of all times to bump into her proper.'*
What parent wouldn't know their kid?
Would she spot him as a fake?
Thankfully(?), no such worry.
The baroness clicked her tongue the moment she saw him.
"Off to drink again?"
"..."
Her gaze toward him.
Worry and concern filled her face.
House falling apart, yet son boozing and rampaging daily—couldn't see him fondly?
Unclear.
"Moderation, dear. It's no good for your health."
"..."
She sighed softly and passed by.
Lloyd secretly wiped his brow.
*'Not busted. Lucky, I guess.'*
Lloyd Frontera.
A guy who chugged booze first thing every morning.
Even his own mother viewed him through that biased lens of worry.
*'Kinda bitter.'*
College freshman days surfaced.
Back when the family was well-off.
Clueless newbie times.
OTs, MTs, drinking daily.
Mom always silently made hangover soup.
But those days were gone forever.
*'Tch.'*
Lloyd bit his lower lip.
His steps out of the mansion grew brisk.
Maybe that's why.
Territory folk on the road scurried to the sides upon spotting him.
They bowed heads, avoiding eye contact.
One housewife clutched her hands, trembling.
A farmer went pale openly.
He grasped his situation(?) instantly.
*'Right, Lloyd was that kind of guy.'*
The novel came back.
Frontera Barony's wastrel.
Lloyd Frontera.
Smashed or threw stuff whenever drunk.
Harsh beatings and abuse on inferiors as routine.
Passive maxed worst-customer bullshit, trash human.
*'No wonder they all despise me proper. Totally hated.'*
A wry smile escaped.
"Hey."
He grumbled to Haviel at his side.
"Why's everyone like that? You don't treat a lord's son that way normally."
Common sense.
Lord's son was top-tier local power.
Unless a total wreck?
They'd at least fake respect to his face.
Smile and bow.
Like a chicken shop owner cozying up to the landlord's son.
Or a veteran middle manager yes-manning the boss's son newbie.
That's how the locals saw the lord's son, probably.
"Normally, yes."
"Normally? Yes, but?"
"Indeed."
"So what's different now?"
Haviel replied coldly.
"Emergency state."
"Emergency?"
"Normally, a territory's emergency means a major threat to livelihoods, residents' peace, and safety has appeared."
"...That's me?"
"Precisely."
"Brutal straight ball."
"What's a straight ball?"
"Ah, hits hard. Pure facts."
"..."
Haviel stared blankly.
Eyes screaming *what weird shit*.
Even that looked coldly elegant, like a painting.
*'Yeah, that's Haviel.'*
Noble, honorable knight.
No compromise with injustice.
Knightly paragon hero.
In the novel, he'd shake the entire Lorasia Continent later.
His unknown self now wouldn't differ in character.
"Such blame is troubling. I've sworn never to strike you, Lord Lloyd."
"You have?"
"No."
"Don't know fact-check beatdown?"
"No idea."
"Have I ever pissed you off?"
"Never. Absolutely."
...Nah, his face says plenty.
Lloyd realized.
*'He hates me too.'*
Haviel prized honor, noble knight.
Natural to despise a wreck like Lloyd.
Yet he stuck by till Lloyd's death.
Kept loyalty to liege lord the baron to the end.
*'Damn impressive guy.'*
Lorasia's legendary sword saint.
Unprecedented Grand Master.
That future powerhouse was his loyal guard now.
A weird thrill as Lloyd kept walking.
Soon, before a shabby building.
"Where's this?"
"The tavern."
"Tavern?"
"Yes. Where you spend more time than the mansion, Lord Lloyd."
"My regular's here?"
"Unless you've secretly favored another without my knowledge."
"..."
Good lord.
Lloyd tsked inwardly.
Just a casual walk, no destination.
And he ends up at his regular tavern.
How often did he haunt it for his body to autopilot here post-soul-swap?
*'What homing instinct? You a dog? Horny pigeon? General Kim Yu-sin?'*
He mentally scolded the baron's eldest son, this body's original owner.
Then turned away.
*'Even I draw the line at day drinking.'*
Lloyd might've loved it, but not him.
Plenty to ponder already—no booze.
"Heading back like this?"
"Obviously."
He shot back at Haviel's question.
But Haviel's response was unexpected.
"Disappointing, then."
"...What?"
"As I said. I'm disappointed in you, Lord Lloyd."
"Waited for me to day-drink big, huh?"
"No."
"Then?"
"I assumed you came here to apologize and compensate for last night's ruckus."
"And turning away disappoints you?"
"Yes. Nobles bear responsibility befitting their station."
"..."
This guy—straight balls all day.
Clocking easy 160km/h.
Haviel had this knack for stabbing advice deep with precision.
"This tavern is the owner's lifelong haven. Shabby as it is. Last night, you rampaged there, breaking furnishings."
"..."
"And as you know, he cares for his elderly mother alone."
"His mother?"
"Yes. Her health's declined lately. Deepened his worries."
"So I tormented that poor guy?"
"Exactly."
"..."
I didn't do it.
But Haviel's straight balls kept coming.
"Last night, he vented to me. His mother suffers in late-winter chill, worries piling up—then your rampage. Said he wanted to die."
"..."
"Don't turn away. You're this territory's future lord..."
"Hold up. Stop there."
Lloyd cut Haviel off.
Too painful to hear?
No.
A sudden question hit while listening.
"The tavern owner's mother suffers bad from late-winter cold?"
"Indeed."
"Then heat the floor with firewood?"
"Pardon?"
"No way the locals... don't know ondol heating?"
"..."
They don't.
His eyes said it.
That clicked something.
*'Come to think, no ondol in my bedroom at the baron's mansion either.'*
Civil engineering major.
Habit of eyeing building structures everywhere.
Grasped the baron's setup quick.
No ondol floor heating.
Fireplace took a bedroom corner instead.
Tavern owner's place probably similar.
Unlike noble homes with per-room fireplaces—likely one kitchen stove heating the whole house.
*'Of course cold. Fireplaces lose heat way more than ondol structurally.'*
Ondol had flaws too.
To install?
Rip up floors or rebuild.
Boost building insulation.
Huge fuel burn.
But those flaws...
*'Overcomable. Exploitable even. I can do it.'*
Leverage his major knowledge?
From debt-crushing gloom.
A massive money-making plan emerged.
It clicked.
Big picture formed.
*'This. Not just one house. Scale up. Major construction project. Viable.'*
Conviction hit.
To turn the head blueprint real.
He strode straight into the tavern.
(End of Chapter 1)
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