IPDE 20

Chapter : 20

Even If I’m an Extra, I Refuse the Death Route (20)

“Ugh, I’m drained.”

The moment I returned to my room, I flopped face‑down on the bed, arms spread out in a 大 shape.

All we did was talk, and yet it felt like every ounce of energy had been sucked out of me.

Was he some kind of demon that secretly feeds off a person’s life force just by being near them?

“Sigh.”

I’m really thinking all sorts of nonsense.

I sighed and rolled onto my side.

Schelle’s last words kept echoing in my head.

“Destiny…”

It was something I had never really thought deeply about.

I always believed there was no such thing as a predetermined life.

Yes, this place was inside a novel, but everything I felt here was real.

That gap between reality and fiction kept gnawing away at me.

‘I’m tired…’

My tangled thoughts slowly grew hazy, and I drifted off to sleep.

A familiar scene.

A man collapsing in agony, a knife buried in his abdomen.

The same dream I had before.

The dream where Eart dies.

‘…I can’t see.’

Just like before, the man who stabbed Eart took the blade and drove it into his own stomach.

But his face was shrouded in shadow, impossible to make out clearly.

Thud—his knees buckled and he crumpled to the floor.

—…Nea.

He choked up blood and whispered something faint and sorrowful.

“…!”

And at that moment, I woke up.

My pillow was soaked again.

Who in the world was that man?

He felt familiar—so familiar—but once awake, even that vague sense of recognition slipped away.

“Haa…”

Dragging my sweat-damp body, I headed for the washroom.

The reflection in the mirror now felt truly familiar, as if it was undeniably my face.

The wound on my neck had faded so much it was hard to spot unless you really looked.

Thank goodness it hadn’t scarred.

A bad memory felt like it might surface, so I splashed cold water on my face.

Just as I finished getting ready to leave the room—

The now-familiar sensation returned, a glowing weight pressed into my palm.

Faster than expected, the third episode had started.

[Episode 3. The Crown Prince Goes Mad]

[Keywords: Madness, Awareness, Role]

The moment I read the title and keywords, a thought flashed through my mind.

Schelle’s claim that Eart was fated to die—and the keyword “madness.”

And “role.”

In Evening Primrose, Eart was the villain.

His destined death, and the madness plot device—

Couldn’t that be because he was assigned the role of the villain?

“…Maybe—just maybe, it’s possible.”

In Evening Primrose, he was the villain, but in the story I’m changing now, he didn’t necessarily have to be.

If the book was right and I was now the protagonist of this story, then the villain role could change too.

And on top of that, I already knew how to stop the madness.

It felt possible.

“All right.”

Today, no matter what, I was going to tell Eart.

With firm resolve, I headed to the kitchen.

“Irenea.”

Just as I finished plating the dessert for Eart, someone called my name.

I turned and saw Serena standing there.

“Oh—Serena. Good morning.”

I smiled brightly—but she didn’t answer.

Serena looked troubled, almost gloomy.

She couldn’t even meet my eyes.

“Serena? Did something happen?”

“Well, um… you see…”

She fidgeted, hesitating—then suddenly grabbed my hand.

“Irenea, you don’t hate me, right?”

“Huh? Where did that come from?”

“Back when I was being kind of cold… I swear I didn’t mean anything bad by it, I just—”

Her voice grew smaller and her expression more miserable.

“Calm down, Serena. I don’t hate you.”

“…Really?”

“Of course! I actually like you. Why would you think that?”

Serena’s eyes were watery, looking like she was about to cry.

“…Do you remember how I told you I liked someone?”

“Yeah, I remember. You even took a pudding recipe from me so you could make it for him.”

I’d been too distracted to teach her properly, so I just wrote the recipe down for her.

Did it go badly?

“Thanks to you, it came out great, so I went to give it to him yesterday.”

“Uh‑huh.”

“And while we were talking, I mentioned I worked in the kitchen. Then he asked about you.”

“Me?”

So the guy she likes… asked about me?

Do I know him? I barely know anyone.

“When I asked if he knew you, he said you’re his younger sister…”

Younger sister—wait.

No way.

“So the person you like is…”

“It’s Edwin. He’s your brother, right?”

Holy.

What.

Out of all the knights in the empire, she fell for Edwin?!

“Wow—what the…”

I slapped my hand over my mouth in shock.

Serena glanced up nervously, then bowed her head again.

“It’s crazy, right?”

“……”

“Serena?”

Okay, so Serena likes Edwin. Got it.

But why… is she acting like this?

Did she confess and get rejected?

“Did something happen?”

“…Are you okay?”

“Huh? About what?”

“About me liking your brother…”

“Why would that bother me?”

I genuinely didn’t understand why she was asking.

Liking someone is her business, and it’s not like they’re getting married tomorrow.

Though that wouldn’t really be an issue either.

But that simple answer must have meant the world to Serena.

Tears brimmed in her eyes.

“Thank you, Irenea. Really—thank you!”

“Uh? Oh—sure…”

I just nodded, though I still had no idea what was going on.

Once she settled down, she explained:

Apparently in the Empire, siblings are VERY sensitive about who their siblings date.

People cared about the weirdest things here.

Everyone must have way too much free time.

“Well, I hope it works out.”

“Thank you so much, Irenea!”

In front of Eart’s office.

As always, Taron stood guard at the door, waiting.

Edwin—who was usually there—was nowhere to be seen.

Taron smiled and reached for the tray in my hands.

“I’d like to see His Highness directly.”

“…Pardon?”

“Could you please ask if he’ll meet with me?”

Taron looked startled.

“Ah—well…”

“There’s something I absolutely need to tell him. Could you at least ask? Please.”

He scratched the back of his head, clearly troubled.

But soon he sighed faintly and nodded.

“Very well.”

He slipped inside. I heard him speak.

“Your Highness, Lady Irenea wishes to see you personally.”

“……”

“Shall I let her in?”

Silence.

I waited.

Still silence.

Was he planning to make me wait until I died?

I couldn’t stand it anymore.

I stepped through the door.

“Your Highness, forgive my discourtesy.”

I bowed deeply.

“There’s something I must say. Please hear me out.”

When I raised my head slightly, Eart was staring at me, eyes wide with surprise.

Our eyes met—and his pupils trembled.

“Your Highness, please listen to her,” Taron added gently.

Finally—almost reluctantly—Eart answered.

“…Let’s hear what’s so important.”

“Thank you!”

I beamed.

Taron passed behind me and whispered softly:

“I’m counting on you.”

Whatever that meant, I chose to interpret it as encouragement.

The door closed.

I approached slowly and set the dessert down, then took a few steps back.

I opened my mouth to speak—but he beat me to it.

“What is it?”

He didn’t even look at me—his eyes stayed fixed on the documents.

“It’s about the madness.”

His hand froze mid‑page turn.

He looked up—his face twisted in an ugly grimace.

“…What?”

His voice was tight with barely restrained anger.

Great start, me.

I hurried on.

“I—I found a way to stop it if it happens—”

He said nothing. Just glared, silent and murderous.

“That thing I confirmed in the greenhouse before, you know, when you—”

“Persistent, aren’t you.”

His low voice cut me off like a blade.

“Who told you to look into that?”

“…What? No, I didn’t mean—”

“How arrogant. And what—are you expecting me to thank you?”

“No, that’s not—”

“Get out.”

“Your Highness, please—just listen—”

“I said GET OUT!”

He exploded—his shout making my body flinch.

Why was he so angry?

I didn’t expect him to thank me—but I didn’t expect this.

His face flushed red with fury, and I was too stunned to speak.

In the end, I could do nothing but retreat, my mind blank, and leave his office behind.

As soon as Irenea left, Eart hurled the file in his hands across the room.

“Damn it!”

He couldn’t understand why he was so furious.

He refused to acknowledge his madness—yet she came smiling, claiming she’d found a cure, as if it were good news.

Everyone else feared him, avoided him—but she kept stepping into his life with muddy shoes.

Every trace she left rattled him.

Every time he thought she might truly care about him, he stamped the thought down.

There had to be an ulterior motive—just like with Enna.

He hated himself for doubting endlessly.

“Haa…”

He dragged a hand through his hair and exhaled.

His empty blue eyes stared into space.

He couldn’t even be honestly happy. He couldn’t accept goodwill—only suspect it.

It was unbearable.

Why? Why me?

His life had been torn apart since the madness appeared.

Why?

Why?

Only questions with no answers echoed inside him.

He remembered Irenea’s gaze—clear, unwavering.

He wanted to believe her.

That every word she said was true, sincere.

That it was pure goodwill—no pity, no lies.

And the more he wanted to believe, the angrier he became.

“…Pathetic.”

To think of himself as pathetic—and to have her look right at that side of him.

Her presence struck at his heart again and again.