It wasn’t until the next day that I realized this wasn’t a dream.
After all, you don’t usually fall asleep again inside a dream—
Only to wake up once more.
The first thing that crashed over me once I finally accepted this reality was the weight of my past deeds.
Honestly, if anything mattered, it should’ve been figuring out why and how I ended up back in the past.
No matter how I turned it over in my mind, it didn’t make sense.
I had definitely died so coming back in time?
This wasn’t some new novel or TV drama.
No one in their right mind would just brush this off like, “Well, I guess that happens.”
And yet, the reason I was spiraling into panic was simple.
I’d done too many things I couldn’t take back.
What should I even do…
I could take responsibility.
Losing Yuria was painful, sure but if I could truly gain my freedom, it would still be a huge advantage.
And if, as I suspected, I had truly returned to the past, then all I had to do was use what I knew from my previous life.
…Hmm.
Judging by the timing, it was a while after I’d married Yuria.
And the divorce would come just two years later.
It was a doomed union from the start.
If I had to sort out the people I needed to meet before that happened…
The second son of this family… and the first.
I’ll have to deal with both of them.
It was right then—
Knock, knock.
As I was piecing things together, a knock at the door stirred me from my thoughts.
I rose to my feet, straightened my clothes, and just as I was about to prepare myself to greet them—
The door, which had been firmly shut, opened without my permission.
And of course, without hesitation, a man stepped in, pushing the attendant aside like he belonged there.
Amon Ehrenheit.
The second son of the family.
So it was him.
…I figured he’d come.
His arrogant stride brought him to a stop right in front of me.
His clothing clearly chosen to flaunt his self-importance spoke volumes.
His jet-black hair and pale skin practically screamed of youth and inexperience.
His hands were soft proof he’d never done a day of hard work and his frame was frail, lacking even the slightest trace of lean muscle.
“Still alive, I see. That’s unexpected.”
His snake-like eyes narrowed as he stared me down.
It was obvious he had come just to mock me.
“Still, I suppose I understand why you did what you did. It’s easy to mistake excessive kindness for a right, isn’t it?”
“…”
“That arrogant little stunt of yours, for example.”
His brow furrowed.
My silence wasn’t the only thing bothering him.
A commoner like me, holding my head high before a noble this was not something tolerated in normal circumstances.
Even something as trivial as making eye contact could be punished as a crime.
Such was the weight of status.
But the lack of any reaction on my face… that unsettled him.
After all, the me from this period used to jump to attention around him.
Amon didn’t say much more.
He simply crossed his arms again and continued to observe me in silence.
I exhaled and stood up from my seat.
He still stared down at me with that condescending gaze.
“…”
I glanced at the trembling servant before shifting my attention back to Amon.
After a moment of hesitation, I decided I didn’t see the need to deal with him right now.
“Let’s talk another time. I doubt anything good would come out of it at the moment.”
“…Is that so.”
He remained still, but I could see the unease growing on the servant’s face.
I rolled my eyes once, then turned my back to Amon and headed for the chair.
There was no reason to entertain him.
Or so I thought until the moment I went to sit down.
Thwack!
It all happened in an instant.
When I opened my eyes again, my whole body was soaked.
Amon had pulled out a short wand and summoned water from the filthy mop bucket outside.
And dumped it straight over my head.
The stench hit me first, drenching me from head to toe.
I couldn’t comprehend what had just happened.
The sticky sensation creeping down my face, the foul smell invading my nose…
Instinctively, I reached up to wipe my face, only to smear the filth further, leaving behind an even worse mess.
“Now that’s a look that suits you.”
“…”
His slitted eyes curved with satisfaction at last.
He brought a handkerchief to his nose, then gave a lazy wave of his hand as if to shoo me away.
“The smell is… appalling. Worse than a crawling sewer rat.”
Drip. Drip.
My hair hung limp and heavy.
My shirt was soaked from the shoulders down.
That vile stench clung to every inch of me.
And beyond the falling droplets of mop water, his expression twisted into a sneer of cruel amusement.
“So that’s what I smelled. There was a filthy little rodent hiding in this room after all.”
“…”
“You’re not a filthy rat? Then what the hell are you? I hear you’ve been pulling every trick in the book to win Yuria’s heart. Trying so hard… and now you’re just going to give up like this?”
Amon twirled his wand once more and conjured a flame in his palm.
Without hesitation, he slapped me across the face with it.
Smack—
My head snapped to the side.
But this time was different—
This time, it left a real wound.
Only then did I recall why the attendants’ faces were always covered in injuries.
And who it was that gave me the burn I’d nearly forgotten.
Who first ordered me to act as a magical target dummy.
—Grab.
Amon seized me by the hair, locking eyes with mine as he spoke.
“Why are your eyes so wide open?”
“…”
“I asked what the hell you’re staring at.”
“…”
“Still got the nerve to lift your head, huh?”
Bit by bit, my neck was forced back.
Then, without warning, Amon shoved his wand into my solar plexus, knocking me onto my back.
Thud.
The floor, slick with dirty mop water, made me slip.
I ended up slumped on the ground, sprawled out.
“A rat like you this is exactly where you belong. Yeah.”
He raised his hand again and slapped me once more.
My head snapped back again.
Satisfied, he smiled down at me with smug pleasure.
“Hard to believe Yuria would take in such filth. A disgusting thing like you. Doesn’t even know his place… How dare you? You should’ve learned your damn lesson and crawled like the worm you are.”
The stench rising from the floor seemed to bother him; he lifted a handkerchief to his nose in disgust.
When he glanced back at me, his eyes were filled with revulsion.
“A lucky little rat crawling its way in… and you think you can disgrace my family’s name?”
“…”
“Know your place. Live like the rat you are silent and worthless.”
I stared at him for a long moment before slowly rising to my feet.
The large burn that once marked my face now gone still throbbed faintly.
A memory stirred.
— This burn might never fade.
The words had spilled from the mouth of the doctor who’d once examined me.
“….”
— I don’t know what happened to you, but these are severe burns.
— It’s as if someone intended for them to never heal… Even potions don’t work. The only other option is surgery, but that’d only make the scarring worse.
The magical target.
Amon’s cruelty was no secret.
He had no qualms about tossing passing attendants into fighting pits with guard dogs, leaving them crippled.
And just as easily, he used people as test subjects for his magic experiments.
His reputation for sadism was well-known.
But then, over time, the rumors faded.
Because there were no more victims.
Or rather his target had been reduced to just one.
It wasn’t just the burn.
That was only the beginning.
I lost my right eye here, gained permanent injuries that wouldn’t heal, suffered wounds too numerous to count.
But their reactions were always the same.
Not a hint of guilt. Just annoyance at the dirty floor before them, like now.
Smack—
The sound echoed through the room.
When something happens far outside the realm of expectation, sometimes your brain just… stops.
You freeze, unable to process it, as if the scene doesn’t make sense in reality.
This was one of those moments.
“…”
Amon’s face twisted into something indescribable, like the blow had truly rattled him.
The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.
My neck ached from the force.
Before me, Amon sat sprawled on the floor, nose bleeding, having collapsed from a single slap.
The room felt frozen in time, swallowed in dead silence.
Still stunned, Amon blinked rapidly.
The twitch in his brows betrayed his rising fury.
Then gritting his teeth he stood.
Wasn’t I nothing more than a magical dummy?
Wasn’t my place beneath his boot?
Even when he beat me senseless for bumping into him, I’d been the one scolded for touching a noble’s body.
But now, Amon’s face was smeared with bright red blood.
For the first time in his life, he had been struck and bled.
He opened his mouth to say something, but the second slap had already landed.
This time, only a weak, breathless sound escaped his lips.
“…”
Drip, drip—
Nosebleed hit the floor.
I was, just as he said, a rat from the gutters.
More like a sewer rat, to be exact.
And that’s why I hated being called a filthy rodent.
Spend enough time rolling around in mercenary bars, and your edges start to sharpen.
And when someone pokes those nerves…
“Get up. Don’t want to hear you tripping over your own damn feet later.”
You remind the beasts who’s the predator and who’s the prey.
That was when it happened.
A servant behind me spoke up.
“If… if you dare lay a hand on the Lord…”
A hesitant voice.
Like he was trying to stop me, half-heartedly.
He was no different looking down on me, just like the rest.
Still, no one truly tried to stand in my way.
No one had expected I’d go this far.
Amon wiped his nosebleed and finally opened his mouth.
“…The head of the house will punish you for this.”
“…Let him try.”
But regardless, the room had turned ice-cold.
The servants fell silent, all eyes locked on us.
Their stares, their body language, even the pressure in the air itself everything was bearing down on me.
But I pushed forward, unwavering.
Amon, summoning mana as he gripped his wand.
The servant behind me, hand over his mouth in shock.
The gathering gazes.
None of them mattered to me.
“No, I don’t.”
“…”
“Tell him to bring it down.”