The comments on the final chapter had reached 999. Compared to the usual 100 or so comments on other chapters, this was an overwhelming number.
Yeeun clicked into the comment section and began typing.
– In the end, Manningham was of no help to anyone until the very end. He felt like an unnecessary addition to this novel. Honestly, Adelaine, who at least got her comeuppance, was more useful.
As she pressed the enter key, the comment count hit four digits. She felt a small, inexplicable sense of satisfaction at being the 1,000th commenter and closed her laptop.
“Alright, that’s it for today’s class. Don’t forget your assignments, and make sure to have them done by next time.”
Yeeun’s eyes widened at the professor’s unexpected announcement. Assignments? She was sure this was supposed to be an easy class with no homework.
She quickly stood up from her seat. Even in college, she hadn’t managed to shake off her loner tendencies. With no one to ask about the assignment, she hurriedly followed the professor.
“P-professor! Wait a moment…!”
But in that instant, her foot caught on something.
“Huh?”
The stairs that should have been beneath her feet suddenly seemed to rush up to meet her.
*Thud.*
A dull sound echoed, followed by screams from those around her. But Yeeun couldn’t feel any pain—just a strange sensation in her head.
“Ah…”
Her vision began to narrow and blur. Overcome by a sudden wave of drowsiness, she slowly closed her eyes.
* * *
“Okay. Okay. Okay. Let’s sort this out.”
Yeeun—no, now Adelaine von Lopitz—tried to make sense of her current situation.
She had somehow ended up in the body of Adelaine von Lopitz, the most notorious villainess in the novel.
Based on the wall calendar she had glimpsed from a distance, it was one year before the start of the novel’s main events—one year before the male lead, Crown Prince Heizen Adler Berg, and the female lead, Fiona Lumencia, would meet.
In other words, Adelaine hadn’t yet accumulated all the bad karma she was known for. At least, not the kind mentioned in the novel.
“Phew… At least the language seems to be English… and the numbers are Arabic numerals. That’s a relief.”
Luckily, or perhaps mercifully, the heavens had granted Adelaine some grace. Her 12 years of Korean public education and private tutoring in math and English weren’t entirely useless.
Looking at the clock, it was still the middle of the night. That meant she had plenty of time to gather her thoughts.
“Now… where’s a pen…?”
She spotted some writing utensils on the table and tried to move, but her body didn’t cooperate.
“Why won’t my legs… listen to me…?!”
‘It’s frustrating, but I can still feel them…’ she thought, lifting the blanket to reveal her legs encased in plaster.
“…Damn it.”
She tried to move her legs several times, but Adelaine’s body was weaker than she expected, and her legs refused to budge.
Finally, she let out a sigh and lay back down on the bed.
“Maybe this is just a dream.”
Yeah. That must be it. Manningham, that useless extra, kept showing up for so many chapters that I ended up dreaming about the novel.
Right. When I wake up, I’ll be in a hospital. I’ll definitely be in a hospital.
There’s no way I’ve been reincarnated as a villainess. This is just a novel.
Besides, Adelaine had such a sad life, living alone with her grandfather.
Whispering this small hope to herself, Adelaine drifted off to sleep.
She hoped that when she opened her eyes, this dream would be over. She wished to wake up in a hospital room in 21st-century South Korea.
* * *
“Ugh… I really want to die.”
In a corner of the imperial palace grounds, among the twenty or so tents set up in the open space, a sigh mixed with frustration escaped from one of them, illuminated by the glow of a lamp.
Just then, a soldier carrying a musket as tall as a person pushed open the tent flap and peeked inside.
“Loyalty. Captain Manningham, are you still awake?”
Inside, a man with black hair was sitting at a makeshift desk made of wooden planks and supply crates, tearing at his hair as he stared at something. The man, called Captain Manningham, casually raised his hand to his forehead in a half-hearted salute and then fixed his gaze back on the documents in front of him.
“Yeah. Private Swafford. I’m writing the after-action report for this operation, and it’s killing me, seriously.”
His deep blue eyes darted rapidly back and forth as he scanned the papers. Swafford poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the desk and observed him for a moment.
As expected of a ‘rifleman’ who traversed mountains, rivers, fields, and cities, his body was lean and muscular. Though his worn, deep green uniform covered his frame, it couldn’t hide his tall, imposing stature.
Swafford sipped his coffee and approached Alex, asking, “Why are you so miserable this time? Did the Imperial Guard give you trouble again?”
At his question, Captain Manningham nodded. His dark circles were prominent, evidence of how many nights he’d gone without sleep.
“They’re pulling us out and replacing us with the Imperial Guard under the Crown Prince’s command.”
Swafford’s jaw dropped at the blatant demand to manipulate their achievements. “Good grief. What’s the Army Headquarters doing? What about the Ministry of War?”
“A third of the Ministry of War is filled with the Crown Prince’s lackeys. Do you think they’ll do anything? The Army Headquarters says since there were no casualties, we should just let it slide… They’re probably too busy fighting their own battles. We’ll have to compromise where we can and focus on what we need to protect.”
It was an unavoidable situation. As a mere rifleman, all Swafford could do was sigh.
“Those damn bastards. They’re turning the Army Headquarters into a complete puppet… Ugh…”
As Swafford commiserated with Captain Manningham, he pulled out a small tin from his pocket and offered it to him. But Manningham shook his head in refusal.
“You know I don’t smoke. Chewing tobacco is still tobacco.”
“Right, sir. I get why you don’t like smoking, but I don’t understand why you hate chewing tobacco or snuff so much.”
“It’s expensive, man. I’ve got medical bills to pay. Where would I get the money for tobacco?”
He tapped his aching knee joint as he spoke. Swafford clicked his tongue at the sight.
“Damn it. Some of us are barely scraping by, paying for medicine out of pocket, while others are trying to steal credit for our work. What about that noble lady we rescued? I heard she’s from a ducal family.”
Manningham sighed and replied, “She’s unconscious, apparently. That’s why the brigade commander is getting chewed out at Army Headquarters right now.”
Swafford’s face twisted in disbelief, and he threw his hands up in exasperation. “What the hell? How is it our fault that she fainted from shock?”
“I don’t know either. By the way, how are the troops holding up?”
Swafford let out a deep sigh at the change of subject. “They’re miserable. Ever since we were deployed to the palace, the Capital Defense Force has been bombarding us with support requests. On top of that, we’ve got the Imperial Guard dumping their palace security duties on us.”
“…Right.”
“They need proper rest to perform well in actual combat, but at this rate, we’ll be lucky if they can even function at the level of regular infantry.”
At Swafford’s blunt assessment, Manningham let out a heavy sigh and tried to reassure him. “…I get it. I’ll do my best to push for a reassignment of duties as soon as possible.”
“And will it actually work this time?”
Swafford’s bitter question left Manningham at a loss for words.
“It’s time. Go on duty. If you’re late for the shift change, Philip will give you hell.”
“Philip’s always late, though. Alright, I’ll head out now. Loyalty.”
“Loyalty.”
After Swafford left, Manningham was alone in the tent once more. He turned his attention back to the documents.
[Case Number 0932-31-71. 58th Capital Defense Support Operation.
– Allied Casualties: Minor injuries – 5, Serious injuries – 1, Fatalities – 0.
– Enemy Casualties: Minor injuries – 10, Serious injuries – 0, Killed in action – 82.
– Engagement Zone: Southern slum district of the capital. High-density shantytown and underground black market.
– Notable Incident 1: Rescue of 103 children held captive by a human trafficking ring. Follow-up actions required.]
Manningham paused his pen at this point, deep in thought.
There had been many opportunities to stop here. The higher-ups wanted it that way. That’s why they had repeatedly nitpicked the reports and refused to approve them.
But he soon resumed writing and finished the report.
[- Notable Incident 2: Secured a noble lady and her six attendants from the black market during the operation. Requested their presence as witnesses, but the Lopitz Ducal House refused, citing the lady’s unconscious state. Follow-up actions required.]
