INMDR 01

Chapter 1

Annual salary: 30 million won.

Monthly take-home pay: 2,251,650 won.

After rent, maintenance fees, transportation, communication, and miscellaneous expenses, saving even 1 million won a month was tight.

A future that felt suffocating no matter how much of my life I threw into it.

So I made a decision.

“Let’s just consider that I’m dead by the age of thirty-five.”

And so I worked my main job, side jobs, and even more side jobs.

Two jobs, three jobs—I worked tirelessly to save money.

Not to become a part of the company’s machinery, but to live my own life.

To have even the tiniest bit of choice in my own life.

Then one day, a junior reached out, asking to grab a drink.

He was the kind of kid from a wealthy family, with a few apartments in Gangnam owned by his parents, but independently, he was polite and generous with his wallet—a genuinely good junior.

But then he said this:

“Hyung, I honestly don’t understand. If you want to make money, at least invest or save. I also borrowed 100 million won from my parents as initial capital. It was money I had to repay. But you… acting like you’re from a rich family and all that…”

This guy?

“No, I really don’t get it. How can someone work and have no money? Are you just spending recklessly? High risk, high return. If you want to earn big money, you need to take risks too. Seriously, why don’t you have money? Do you just not have it, or are you wasting it?”

“I-I…!”

“Hyung, hyung! What’s wrong with you?”

The anger was brief; I passed out.

And then, back to the present.

“Am I… really dead like this?”

At fifteen, Cthun of the Palalon Barony realized his past life.

The afternoon sun shone brightly.

I stood in front of a mirror, quietly examining myself.

Black hair, pale skin, a fairly decent face.

The same face I had grown tired of seeing until yesterday, and the room behind me was nothing special either.

So there was no reason for it to feel unfamiliar.

Yet, why did it feel strange?

It was probably because of the memory from just a moment ago.

The memory of a frail, 33-year-old Korean man, Kim Kang-min, who worked himself to death, only to meet his end out of sheer anger at the reckless remarks of his bourgeois junior—a memory that could bring tears.

Here’s the question:

What exactly was this memory?

Fortunately, the answer lay in the memory of 33-year-old Kim Kang-min.

“It’s my past life.”

This situation falls under the third category of the “web novel trinity”: reincarnation—commonly called regression, possession, or reincarnation.

Does it make sense?

…Well, not really. But life rarely makes perfect sense.

There aren’t many things in life that can be neatly explained.

Kim Kang-min knew this well.

So he learned how to accept it.

In a world where unreasonable and unbelievable situations are common, fretting about them doesn’t solve anything—so you simply accept them.

Having accepted his past life, I became gloomy again.

Why?

Was it because I was reincarnated into a medieval fantasy world? Or because of the tragic fate of 33-year-old Kim Kang-min, which could only be described with tears?

Neither.

“I… am illegitimate.”

Yes.

I was a bastard.

I was the product of a reckless incident caused by my father, Baron Sahad Palalon, who went to war hoping to elevate the family, but ended up doing something else entirely.

My mother left me in the Palalon Barony about a year ago, and my father only realized my existence for the first time in fourteen years.

Fortunately, from the perspective of my past life, my father was a good man.

“He accepted my inconvenient existence and even felt sorry for me.”

So far, so good—but there was a problem.

I had an older brother.

His name: Wilhelm. Age: 20.

The legitimate heir of the Palalon family, born to my father and his lawful wife. I still remember the first time we met.

“—Cthun.”

“—Wilhelm.”

The cold gaze he gave me.

My father claimed Wilhelm was simply taciturn, but in my eyes, Wilhelm was a psychopathic killer devoid of human emotion.

Why was I so certain? I had seen everything.

One early morning, I went for a walk, curious about someone entering the castle.

And there he was:

“Wilhelm.”

I couldn’t tell where he had been, but his body was drenched in fatigue—as if he had just done something horrendous.

The truly terrifying part? He was watching me.

Whenever I felt a gaze and turned around, Wilhelm was always there, staring from afar.

Was it because I was illegitimate? Or because he realized I had seen that day’s events?

Either way, it was clear Wilhelm had his eyes on me.

So I had to leave.

But alone?

“No way.”

In a world where peasants moonlighted as thieves and slave traders existed, fifteen-year-old Cthun would have been an easy target.

Unlike Korea’s ten-thousand-year Confucian history, here survival meant strength.

Especially if you met a monster—you’d be a hearty meal.

So strength was necessary…

Fortunately, there was a way.

What was it?

“The Blood Awakening Ceremony.”

A ritual for noble families on their fifteenth birthday, using a special chalice to awaken latent talents in their bloodline.

And today was that day…

Knock, knock.

“Young master, it’s time.”

“Alright, I’ll come.”

At the words of my personal attendant, I left my room.

“Today, I gain strength.”

The strength to run away.

I didn’t need great power.

Because if I gained too much, that lunatic Wilhelm would surely cut me down.

So I needed just enough modest strength to use while avoiding provoking him.

Well, being a bastard, maybe that strength wouldn’t even manifest.

I walked toward the ceremony hall.

The training grounds of Palalon Castle.

“Step forward.”

A soldier guarding the entrance opened the door as I approached.

Inside, a few faces were waiting for me.

At the center: my father.

To his right: Lady Hella, my father’s mistress and Wilhelm’s mother.

And to my father’s left…

“Wilhelm.”

Wilhelm looked at me with a cold, unyielding expression, as if not a drop of blood would spill even if stabbed.

I forced myself to ignore his gaze and stepped forward to my father.

“You’ve come.”

“Yes.”

“Today’s Blood Awakening Ceremony will be observed only by our family and Sir Balt. Stand here.”

Although he spoke rigidly now, he wasn’t like this in private.

Following his command, I stood at the designated spot.

That’s when my father called Sir Balt, a comrade from the war where he had met my mother.

“Sir Balt, bring the chalice.”

“Yes, my lord.”

According to my father, Sir Balt wasn’t someone who should be in a rural fief—but that was none of my concern.

After all, I would leave once the ceremony ended.

Sir Balt brought the chalice.

“We begin.”

My father, with a solemn expression, placed his hand on my head.

“Who seeks to receive the chalice?”

“Cthun.”

“State your lineage.”

“I am a descendant of Ark, one of the founding heroes of the Heorun Kingdom and the Dragon Slayer.”

“State your family.”

“Palalon, the Sword of Heorun.”

The ceremony was simple, likely because I was a bastard and our fief wasn’t particularly wealthy.

Once the ritual process ended, my father handed the chalice to Sir Balt.

“Prove your bloodline.”

“Yes.”

All that remained was to drip a single drop of blood into the chalice.

The mysterious magic in the chalice would awaken the latent talent in my blood. I didn’t understand the complex details.

I glanced at Wilhelm and pricked my finger with a needle.

Plop!

A drop of blood fell onto the brass-like chalice.

The blood spread along the shallow grooves inside the chalice, revealing a pattern gradually.

I swallowed hard.

“Please… just one.”

The talents of the Palalon bloodline were Great Sword and Divine Power. Rarely, both could be awakened.

I didn’t hope for two. Just one.

“Preferably Divine Power.”

The color of the light indicated the type of talent; its brightness indicated the magnitude.

Green for Great Sword, brown for Divine Power.

I hoped the chalice would glow brown.

Then…

Shh… zz—

The blood-soaked chalice rippled, and light gathered in its center.

But the color was strange.

“Purple?”

Purple talent?

Then…

Shh, shzzzz!

Like a snowball rolling down a slope, the light in the chalice swelled instantly.

Then—

Fwoosh!

A blinding light filled the training grounds!

I had a gut feeling.

Something was wrong.

In broad daylight,

the villagers going about their peaceful lives suddenly looked up at the sky.

“What… is that?”

“What is that light?”

The purple light emanating from Palalon Castle pierced the afternoon sun, covering the sky.

The incomprehensible sight left the villagers staring blankly, entranced as if the light had a will of its own.

How long they remained mesmerized is unclear.

Fwoosh!

The sky-covering light vanished in an instant.

“Huh….”

“Did I really just see that?”

Meanwhile, at the center of the training grounds,

Baron Palalon stared at Cthun with a stern expression.

“What… on earth…”

The baron was as astonished as anyone.

Even he had never seen—or heard of—such light.

It was the kind of thing only a noble among nobles—or perhaps beyond even that—would witness.

Purple, no less.

The baron stared at his son, Cthun, whom he had known for barely a year.

A fragile, timid boy who rarely left his room.

If he, the baron, was astonished, imagine how surprised the boy must have been…

“We’re screwed.”

“…?”

The baron tilted his head.

Did he hear that right?

Narrowing his eyes, he focused on his son, opening his mouth cautiously.

“Son.”

“Yes?”

“What… did you just say?”

Cthun tilted his head innocently.

“Say what?”

“You just said something about being screwed.”

“Me? I didn’t say anything.”

Seeing Cthun tilt his head so casually, the baron was utterly confused.

Meanwhile, Cthun himself was equally bewildered.

“What the hell do I do now?”

Glancing sideways, Wilhelm was staring at him fiercely.