Chapter 1. Me? (1)
At the age of 24, Hanol got possessed.
Not that he ever wished for it or anything!
Possession, man!
Some people might be psyched about it—new body, new life, fancy new family and all—but not Hanol.
Pragmatism. Safety-first-ism. That was Hanol’s motto. His priorities were his own life, health, and stability.
He wanted to live carefully, quietly, avoiding trouble and danger whenever possible. If he saw injustice, he’d sidestep it. He avoided dangerous situations like the plague.
Even when eating Chinese food with a group, he’d always go for the sweet-and-sour pork first. Membership points were mandatory when shopping. He always added chives and pickled radish to his bone soup, and enjoyed steaming hot showers even in summer.
The ultimate definition of a cautious guy.
But despite this, he refused to label himself as such, which somehow completed the package.
And now, possession?
At first, he denied it. Then he got angry. Then he tried negotiating. Finally, he accepted it.
Turns out, he had become Evan Alkarte, the mid-boss from Act 2 of his favorite medieval RPG game,New Episode. It took him nine months just to fully grasp this reality.
It wasn’t because he was overly cautious—it was because the body he possessed was so weak.
Evan Alkarte, the weakest boss of Act 2.
His backstory wasn’t bad: a rare alchemist profession, addicted to his own potions, cursed with a terminal illness.
“Evan Alkarte is the second son of the Alkarte Ducal Family. Once beloved by the Duke as the child of his favorite concubine, he was abandoned after her death. To bring her back, he studied alchemy but rushed into forbidden practices, losing his eyesight in the process. Eventually, he became a madman trying to fuse humans together.”
A touching narrative, sure, but only from an outside perspective.
Once you’re inside Evan’s head, it’s pure nightmare fuel.
Nicknamed “Carp,” Evan was absurdly weak. The easiest difficulty setting, constantly fainting, puking left and right—just pathetic.
To survive, extreme measures were necessary.
Rule #1: Never step forward!
It wasn’t fear—it was all about staying safe. Survival was key.
Evan’s alchemy included golem creation. Instead of making potions, he made golems and controlled them quietly from his room.
The goal? Gather materials using golems to create healing elixirs. Luckily, he knew the recipe.
With newfound confidence, three months passed, then a year.
Evan realized something: This wasn’t working.
To secure the resources needed, the main storyline had to progress. But at what point? By then, the world would already be heading toward its doom. After all, the player’s mission was to stop the apocalypse.
Could Evan drive the main plot forward? Nope. Not only was it impossible, but he didn’t even want to try.
This wasn’t some safe little world! One wrong move could get you killed, poisoned, assassinated, or torn apart by monsters. Too many risks!
Instead, why not delegate?
There were main supporting characters inNew Episodewho could handle it.
They weren’t saints, but they definitely didn’t want the world to end.
Considering villains? No way—they required too much effort to reform. Plus, these supports had flaws Evan could fix easily enough.
One minor issue: DLC content wasn’t installed yet. But meh, should be fine. DLC was just side stories anyway. The developers said skipping it wouldn’t affect the main plot. So no worries, right?
First target: The Holy Maiden.
Why her? Low persuasion difficulty, top-tier healing abilities, and incredible connections across the continent.
If she was swayed, others would follow suit easily.
Besides, if things went south, she could probably save his life.
After ten days, Evan finally finished preparing.
Letters and potions for the Holy Maiden.
—
“Master Evan! It’s time to rise!”
Evan slowly opened his eyes. The luxurious wooden ceiling greeted him once again. Another day in Evan Alkarte’s familiar room.
“Ugh… anemia.”
His vision went white, but he was used to it by now. Pushing through the dizziness, he greeted his servant.
“Good morning, Dolphe.”
“M-Master Evan! Good morning!”
Dolphie nearly teared up from joy over the simple morning greeting. It was progress—he used to have seizures whenever Evan spoke politely.
Our emotional servant, Dolphe.
Now Evan’s closest and most trusted ally. Why did he insist on formalities?
“Cough. Just in case someone poisons my food.”
Before possession, Evan had been quite unruly. This was his attempt to improve relationships.
Though it didn’t seem to work very well.
“Dolphe, can you bring me some stationery and a pen?”
“For whom will you write, Master?”
“For the Holy Maiden.”
“Huh? The Holy… Wait, what?!”
Dolphe looked utterly confused. Evan quickly scribbled down the letter, having long since mastered the art of elegant handwriting.
“This line will seal the deal.”
Since the recipient might not open the letter, he wrote the crucial phrase directly on the envelope.
“When the moon sets, we are the firebird that does not cry, the holy horse without footprints.”
It made no sense, but this single line would skyrocket the Holy Maiden’s favorability to over 90%. That’s why she was chosen as the first target—easiest persuasion difficulty.
“Send this letter along with the crimson potion on my desk to the temple.”
“But Master… Alright, I’ll do it…”
Dolphe hesitated, clearly worried about Evan’s fragile health.
‘Not really accurate though…’
Even in this state, Evan was still an alchemist. He could at least make potions to ease his symptoms.
‘Time to send letters to the next main support character.’
Though still sick, he felt adapted enough—until—
“Cough! Cough!”
Suddenly, Evan coughed violently, blood splattering onto his hands and sheets. His soul reacted instinctively. Grabbing the nearby bell, he shook it frantically.
Ding ding!
“Healer! Anybody! Help!”
“Master Evan is spitting blood! Quick, call the healer! Priest! Anyone!”
Blood everywhere!
—
Sun Mountain, known as the closest peak to the sun, housed the grand Sun Temple at its summit. There, the Holy Maiden sat alone in a vast prayer hall, deep in meditation, until the head knight approached her with a letter.
“Holy Maiden, a letter has arrived.”
“Thank you, Knight Commander.”
“It’s my duty to serve you, Holy Maiden.”
The knight handed over the letter but couldn’t help feeling curious.
‘Why accept a letter?’
The sender was the second son of the Alkarte Ducal Family. Their house wasn’t bad—they regularly donated and maintained good relations with the royal family. Rumors of dark dealings? Trivial.
The problem was the sender himself. A notorious figure.
“A drug addict and reckless lunatic, they say.”
Apparently, he was also an alchemist dabbling in potion-making.
“An alchemist…”
A rare profession on the continent, but nothing impressive. All they did was brew potions.
For the past year, he’d been unusually quiet, as if repenting. Still, how much could change in just one year? Surely not enough to grab the Holy Maiden’s attention.
That’s when it happened.
“…Huh, hahaha.”
The Holy Maiden chuckled while reading the letter, a serene yet chilling smile crossing her face.
“Holy Maiden?”
“Please leave me for a moment.”
“Yes, Holy Maiden.”
Once alone, the Holy Maiden stared intently at the letter.
The contents weren’t important. What mattered was the phrase written on the envelope.
“When the moon sets, we are the firebird that does not cry, the holy horse without footprints.”
‘How does anyone know this phrase, known only to me and my god?’
Evan Alkarte, the neglected second son, shouldn’t have access to such knowledge. Was the sun summoning a new disciple?
No, that was impossible.
The sun had chosen only Adrianne Saint as its saint.
Then…
‘Does someone know about my plans?’
Adrianne Saint, the benevolent Holy Maiden renowned for her piety. Or so it seemed.
Except for one hidden truth.
‘How does someone know about my plan to bring the sun into this world?’
Secretly, she had been manipulating the Sun Temple, pulling strings from the shadows—the true puppet master behind it all.
‘Even the cure for my mysterious illness…’
The crimson potion enclosed within could partially heal the curse that had plagued her for years.
“Heheh… Interesting.”
Despite feigning calmness, sweat trickled down her forehead.
‘Is this a warning? Or mockery? Does it expose the flaws in my plans?’
Nothing about this felt altruistic. Sending a mere letter instead of meeting in person, openly inscribing sacred phrases—it all reeked of mockery, as if belittling her grand schemes.
Crunch.
The letter crumpled in her grip, mirroring her bruised pride.
‘I need to find out.’
Adrianne resolved to uncover the truth.
Was this coincidence? Or did Evan know more than she thought?
Was he the real puppet master orchestrating events above everyone else?
She had to investigate.
