Chapter 1

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Note

• Disclaimer: 백작가의 망나니가 되었다 - 유려한 | Lout of Count's Family | Trash of the Count's Family does not belong to me but Yulyeohan. This is fanfiction.
• Events, characters, places, etc. mentioned in this fanfiction are fictitious and do not refer to any specific actual context.
• English is not my native language.
• Please do not repost the artwork, you can find them on my X/ IG/ Ao3 or Wattpad under the account J_K_Klara

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End of March, 2X10...

When Cale opened his eyes, he found himself in an unfamiliar room.

No elemental spirits floated in the air, no mana glided with the rhythm of the breath, and the strange connection that always clung to his memories had become faint. Staring at the ceiling as his senses were in the process of loading, Cale felt like he was lost in the fog. He didn't like it; a head in a cloud wasn't a good choice for survival amid war, but when old and new memories overlapped like a rewound movie, he only felt vague.

Wait... Everything just happened in the blink of an eye; it should not be like that, and he should not feel like that.

'Pull yourself together, Cale.'

When his bare feet hit the cold wooden floor with a melancholy creaking sound, that's when his eyes found... the books scattered on the floor. It's weird, they look like they'd been thrown out on purpose. 'Oh' He couldn't help but pause the half-stretched hand to pick them up since something successfully caught his attention: 'Hero?'.

The Birth of a Hero' was written. Slowly following the edge of the book, a strange suffocating feeling only grew with each page turned. Only the rustle of paper and the faint sound of breathing could be heard in the modest apartment, which was illuminated only by a table lamp that cast low light.

Cale bit his inner cheek as he finished those books, not sure how to react to the life he'd been through turning into a lifeless novel, and he was just a minor villain. Cale wanted to laugh about it as if his performance was beyond the ability to enjoy the art of whoever wrote this book. But that was not the point, for a moment, Cale felt himself becoming a reader, looking back at the stranger's stories. He couldn't stop his hands from shaking, a feeling of bitterness spread over the people he met and the lives he witnessed, stories that are probably no longer remembered but Cale since he's still alive. They also had their own story; however, they were unknown as they were not main characters.

Cale knew he was scared, afraid that he'd doubt himself and let the last memories of those dead die forever.

Before he could finish his thought, he moved quicker than any reflex he'd had on the battlefield, rushing for something that could be used to write.

Then he wrote it down.




     - This will be a long journey.

Cale shivered a little as the cold water slipped between his fingers. The hands were covered in calluses and scars that ran up his stronger arms, as opposed to Cale's previous pale, scarred hands.

     - Your life is not easy either huh.

Even if the deal seemed quite fair at first, Cale did not have the right to demand. No matter where he got thrown, Cale'd still manage to survive; he always will. But at least some familiarity comforted his aged soul. Well, Cale's grateful for this opportunity, although it was the riskiest choice he'd ever made.

     - Haa, I'm starting to babble alone

Tilting his head as he observed the reflection in the mirror, the strange and somewhat cold face seemed to add a few years to the owner. Poker face was the perfect card, Cale could tell. 'But this is not the one I'm looking for' His reddish pupils brightened mischievously before a smile slowly spread across the expressionless face.

     - Humm, not bad. Cale.

He brushed his black hair back, acting natural even though it wasn't that long. Shrugging, he was aware but did not care about that. 'So, from now on, what should I do? No, where should Kim Rok Soo start?'

 'So, from now on, what should I do? No, where should Kim Rok Soo start?'

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