At the same time, Mozo woke up in his apartment.
Morning light slipped faintly through the window, spilling across the room.
He stared at it for a moment, then let out a quiet sigh.
What a dream…
No—more like a grand opera.
And he'd been the leading role.
From a nobody to a figure standing shoulder to shoulder with gods—
in just a few short years, he had forced countless powers to accept the rise of a new god.
And then, when no one saw it coming…
He gave that godhood away.
To a girl.
And offered himself up in the process.
The gods… those unknown beings…
what kind of expressions would they have worn when they learned the truth?
Probably quite a show.
Maybe next time, he'd get to see their reactions.
With that thought, Mozo pushed himself out of bed, ready to start the day.
But before he stood up, the golden morning light by his bedside caught his eye—
and, for no real reason, made him think of that girl.
Her golden hair had shone just as brilliantly.
If there was any regret in that grand "opera,"
it was probably her.
Mozo clicked his tongue lightly.
What was he even thinking?
It was just a dream.
Besides… even in that dream, hadn't he given the godhood to her in the end?
A happy ending all around.
Everyone wins.
He got up, washed, ate, and headed to the university.
Another dull day began.
Compared to the sweeping grandeur of his dreams, real life felt painfully ordinary—
even a little suffocating.
Still, things were better now.
The hardest days were behind him.
He was now a student at Cromwell University—a place with a bright future ahead of him.
Good grades. Decent looks. Several professors willing to recommend him.
After graduation, he'd likely land a solid job at a respectable company—
a middle-level position with enough pay to move into a better apartment.
If luck was on his side, he might even make it into a securities firm—
become a chief accountant, someone well-regarded even among the upper class.
After walking two streets, Mozo finally caught a public carriage and arrived at the university gates—
Cromwell.
A prestigious national university, renowned across the entire empire.
It was said that the first Empress had founded it to commemorate the achievements of Duke Cromwell.
Come to think of it, Mozo had played the role of that very duke in one of his countless dream "operas."
Though… not quite the same as the version in the history books.
Lost in thought, he suddenly heard the sound of carriage wheels behind him—
followed by the clear chime of brass bells.
Not one ring, like a public or private carriage.
Three.
The sound reserved for nobility.
Hearing it, Mozo immediately stopped, stepped aside, and removed his hat in respect.
The other students along the road did the same.
It wasn't required.
But it saved you a lot of trouble.
Cromwell University, with its strong political ties and exceptional faculty, attracted a large number of noble students.
Two centuries ago, it had even been an academy exclusively for nobles.
Though commoners—and even the poor—were now allowed to attend,
the gap between them and the nobility was still painfully obvious.
Fortunately, because the highest-ranking nobles were so prominent, many lesser nobles had given up using private carriages altogether, choosing to walk instead—just to highlight the status of those above them.
Which meant things weren't too complicated.
But it also meant one thing—
You had to be especially careful around the truly important people.
As Mozo was thinking this, the carriage had already entered through the gates.
He couldn't help but feel a trace of envy.
Being a noble really did beat working for a living.
Unfortunately, the path from commoner to noble was… vanishingly narrow.
Narrow enough that he gave up on the idea the moment it crossed his mind.
Just as he rounded the corner into the campus—
He collided head-on with someone.
There was no romantic, soft-bodied encounter.
Just papers flying everywhere—
and a girl's pained cry as she fell.
Mozo, being taller and sturdier, managed to stay on his feet.
He quickly crouched down.
"Are you alright?"
But the moment he saw her face—
his expression twitched.
The Tulip of the Floriculture Faculty—Audrey Hepburn.
One of the well-known beauties among the three faculties of Cromwell University.
Gentle, pure, and—like him—a commoner.
Though unlike him…
she was too beautiful.
Just like that famous Audrey Hepburn from his previous life.
Naturally, she had no shortage of admirers.
Which was exactly why Mozo had always avoided getting involved with someone like her.
It was a great way to earn the hatred of overly competitive men.
And yet, here they were—
not only crossing paths, but doing so at the busiest spot on campus.
People were already gathering, whispering among themselves.
Troublemakers loved this sort of thing.
Mozo knew if he didn't act fast, rumors would start flying—
something about how this had all been carefully staged by him.
Then, suddenly, his eyes lit up.
Among the scattered papers, he spotted something interesting.
So had others—though their expressions were mostly confused.
A few words.
Written in Elvish.
This world had no elves.
No magic. No gods.
And yet, thanks to superstition, it was filled with all kinds of so-called "mysticism."
Even entire "Elvish" languages had been invented for reasons no one could quite explain.
Outside, these things were harmless curiosities.
But here—at a university devoted to truth—
they were a joke.
So the Tulip of the Floriculture Faculty was into this kind of thing too, huh?
After a brief pause, Mozo bent down, picked up the sheet, and said in an excited tone:
"Oh! I didn't expect you to be interested in mysticism too, Miss Audrey!"
"To be honest, I'm really into it myself. Like this part here—about the Sun King. Did you know that among the elves, there's actually a special pronunciation for that title?"
He paused, pretending to think, before reciting a long, complicated word.
Awkward. Unfamiliar.
Yet strangely pleasant to the ear.
As he spoke, his expression shifted—
from surprise…
to shock…
to panic.
Finally, he bowed slightly, looking embarrassed.
"My apologies, Miss Audrey—I didn't realize this was actually mine. I'm terribly sorry!"
And with that, he grabbed the paper and hurried off.
The crowd blinked—
then burst into laughter.
Clearly, no one was going to think this had been some elaborate setup.
At most, they'd see it as a clueless commoner getting excited over finding a fellow mysticism enthusiast.
Only Audrey Hepburn knew the truth.
That paper had been hers.
And his ridiculous little act—
had been a shield.
But as she recalled the strange word he had spoken, her brows slowly drew together.
Something about it…
felt off.
Still, she shook her head, quickly gathered her things, and left the campus.
After several turns, passing through a few streets, and changing clothes three times at different hidden spots—
the girl now wore a mask and a fitted knight's outfit.
And under that disguise, Miss Audrey Hepburn arrived at the entrance of an abandoned sewer.