In a small orphanage located on the outskirts of the Kingdom Lutherian, a young boy lay on a simple bed.
The room was filled with rows of other beds placed closely together, enough to accommodate around twenty children in a single shared space. The air inside felt warm and slightly stuffy, mixed with the scent of old fabric and aged wood.
The boy appeared to be around 13 years old, with chubby cheeks, a still-innocent face, and slightly messy jet-black hair. His face—though still childish—had clear potential: if he grew up well, he would become a handsome young man.
However, the calmness of the room was gradually disturbed.
The boy's body began to move restlessly. His breathing grew uneven, his brows furrowed, as if he was enduring something painful inside his head.
Then—
"Ugh…!"
He jolted awake, immediately grabbing his head with both hands.
"What the hell is this…? Why does my head hurt so much…? What's going on…?" he groaned softly, his voice still hoarse and confused.
The pain did not stop.
For several minutes he kept gasping for air, his body trembling at times, until eventually he weakened and lay back down on the bed.
"Hah… hah…"
His breathing was still unstable, but the pain slowly began to subside.
"…hufh."
He closed his eyes for a moment.
"I remember… the doctor told me to rest properly, but last ni—"
His words stopped mid-air. His eyes snapped wide open as something struck his mind like a hammer.
"Fire!!!"
The memory hit him like a hammer.
Immediately, his body tensed again. His heartbeat grew faster, and his face turned pale.
He fell silent.
Quiet.
Then slowly, his expression went empty.
Because along with that memory came another realization—things far heavier than just a headache or morning confusion.
compensation costs.
His body weakened again.
"…I… really…"
He stared at the wooden ceiling above him with empty eyes.
"…have to pay everything…"
The words came out faintly, almost without strength.
In his mind, numbers and possible losses kept spinning endlessly. It felt like the world was pressing down on him from all directions, until even breathing felt expensive.
If only I could just disappear from this world…
His thoughts drifted blankly, as if surrendering to a burden he no longer wanted to calculate.
However—
Creeeak.
The door to the orphanage room opened with urgency. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed across the wooden floor.
"Ethan!"
A nun rushed inside.
She was an adult woman with long blonde hair slightly disheveled from running, and a simple nun's habit now slightly wrinkled. Her face was filled with clear concern, as if she had rushed here without caring about anything else.
Without hesitation, she immediately approached Ethan's bed and hugged him tightly.
"Ethan…"
Her voice trembled.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"I came as soon as I heard from the children… you were already awake…" She tightened her embrace slightly. "…thank God you're alright."
Ethan fell silent.
His body stiffened for a moment inside that hug. His eyes slowly shifted, looking at the person holding him.
…Sister…
And for the first time since he woke up, his thoughts stopped calculating.
His gaze moved toward the door.
"Is Ethan already alright?"
A small voice came from behind the door.
A few orphan children peeked inside hesitantly. They did not dare step in, only standing at the doorway, hiding behind each other. Their faces were filled with worry they could not fully understand.
Ethan's name was called softly, carefully, as if afraid to disturb the situation.
Inside the room, Ethan was still lying on the bed, while the adult nun held him tightly, trying to calm him.
However, Ethan's attention was not fully on the embrace.
His eyes moved toward the door.
Among the children peeking in, there was one different figure.
A girl with purple hair stood slightly behind the others. She did not step forward, did not speak. She only observed from a distance with a calm, almost cold gaze, as if evaluating the situation without emotion.
Nothing about her seemed special at first.
Until Ethan saw her—and something inside him reacted.
Not just a feeling.
More like a memory forcibly surfacing.
The name appeared in his mind, clear and undeniable.
The Witch of Calamity: villain from Chronicle of Fantasia.
A woman who hated this world down to its very core. A figure who saw existence itself as something rotten, corrupt, and unworthy of being saved.
In the original game story, she was not just a simple antagonist.
She was one of the greatest threats—someone who did not seek power or simple revenge, but chose to destroy the world in the most brutal way possible.
In one of the bad endings, the protagonist ends up imprisoned in a room full of tentacles, enduring torture far beyond normal comprehension.
One of her lines that he remembered was:
"You know why men fear me? Because I will treat them the same way they treat women… haha."
His chest tightened.
I remember… if this is real… she must be that villain from that damn eroge game.
His eyes trembled, recalling the obscene scenes the fraudulent developer had inserted into the game.
So… have I really entered the world of this game?
The nun's embrace still felt warm, but Ethan felt as if he were somewhere far away from it all.
"…Ethan," she said softly, her voice gentle yet filled with concern, "it seems your condition hasn't fully recovered."
She sighed lightly, then slowly released her hug.
Her gaze shifted toward the door.
"Children," she said as she stood up, "go outside first. Let Ethan rest properly."
The children exchanged hesitant looks, then slowly began to leave the doorway one by one. The purple-haired girl remained still for a moment before turning away and following them without a word.
"Ethan… are you in pain or feeling unwell?" the nun asked again while gently stroking his head.
[
Name: Charlotte
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Affiliation: St. Liora Orphanage
Job: Nun
Status: Holy
Lv: 8
HP: 364
MP: 700
STR: 9
DEF: 10
DEX: 8
VIT: 14
INT: 35
]
[
Masturbation: 0
Sex: 0
Partner: 0
]
If I'm not mistaken, she must be the nun from the Prologue.
So… I've really entered this game world. And I've possessed the body of the protagonist destined for a miserable life.
But why did I end up in this world?
Ah, right… I have a history of heart disease. Maybe the fire triggered a heart attack.
Ethan fell silent for a moment, trying to accept the explanation he had created himself.
After feeling somewhat calm, Ethan forced a small smile, trying to sound normal.
"I'm fine. I'm already okay."
Charlotte did not immediately believe him. She still looked at Ethan with slightly furrowed brows, clearly unsatisfied with his answer.
"Earlier, I heard you screaming in pain," Charlotte said softly. "Hearing that, I rushed here immediately. At that time I was actually asking the villagers for help to take you to the city. If you still feel unwell, just tell me. I will take you to the city for treatment."
"I already told you, I'm fine," Ethan replied faster than before.
Charlotte sighed softly, but her gaze still did not soften.
"Then explain," she said. "What actually happened? This is not the first time. Earlier in the garden you suddenly became like that too."
Ethan fell silent.
His hands unconsciously clenched slightly under the blanket.
…I see.
Today must be the day when the protagonist begins to awaken his appraisal eyes.
In the original story of the game, the protagonist would easily reveal his eye ability to others. That openness would eventually become the beginning of a major problem—many people would grow jealous, fearful, or greedy and start targeting his eyes.
However, Ethan had no intention of doing something that foolish.
He already understood one thing: information in this world was not just information, but also a weakness.
Ethan took a slow breath, then answered in a deliberately calm tone.
"I'm just tired. Maybe I haven't rested properly these past few days."
He raised his hand slightly, signaling Charlotte not to worry too much.
"Sometimes my head hurts suddenly, but it usually goes away on its own."
Charlotte looked at him for a few seconds, as if judging whether the answer was true or not. But there were no clear signs of deception on Ethan's face—or at least not enough to press further.
"I see," she finally said softly. "Then you must truly rest properly."
She stepped closer and placed the back of her hand on Ethan's forehead without hesitation.
"Hm…"
Her brows slightly furrowed.
"Your forehead is hot."
Ethan reflexively tried to pull back, but Charlotte had already withdrawn her hand.
"It seems you have a fever," she said calmly. "Wait here. I will prepare a warm compress."
Without waiting for a response, Charlotte stood up and walked toward the door, her steps quick but careful not to disturb the other children.
Before leaving, she glanced back at Ethan and gave a warm smile.
"Don't push yourself next time, okay."
Then she left, leaving Ethan alone in a room that felt quiet again.
Thump… thump…
His heartbeat sounded clearer than usual.
Ethan raised a hand and placed it over his chest as if trying to confirm something.
"She is too honest," he muttered softly.
The corner of his lips lifted slightly without him realizing it.
"And a bit… cute."
He paused for a moment, then let out a small sigh, thinking about how he ended up in this world, his home situation, and how his parents would react if they knew he had died.
Honestly, I'm already tired of living like that… and if I have to think about the money I still need to pay for compensation…
Ethan closed his eyes for a moment.
It seems like coming to this world… is not entirely bad.