Words Spoken Are Like Water Spilled

Everything in the world exists in balance. Where there is prosperity and light, a corresponding, deep darkness is bound to fester.

For a sprawling metropolis like Belland, one of the largest on the continent, the shadows festering in its underbelly had long ago metastasized into a terrifying, sprawling ecosystem. The underground black market, where “anything could be bought,” was merely the tip of that dark iceberg. It was a deformed, cancerous growth. And thanks to the silent indulgence of certain powerful figures, these shadows had not only failed to recede in recent years but had even begun to creep into the world of light.

But a shadow is still just a shadow. It cannot survive the sun. And the moment it caught the attention of the supreme ruler of the nation—His Majesty the Emperor—it was doomed to face utter annihilation.

“I remember now… there was a similar incident in the original novel.”

“It all started when someone put a bounty on the life of the Emperor’s most beloved concubine. Some fool actually took the job… and, against all odds, succeeded.”

“The Emperor, in a fit of pure rage, ordered the Royal Knights to conduct a full-scale purge of Belland’s underworld. That brutal, merciless crackdown lasted for three whole months. So many people died that the city’s sewers literally ran red with blood. It came to be known as the ‘Bloody River Incident’!”

“After that, the protagonist even complained that you couldn’t find a single pickpocket in the capital for over a year!”

“But that event… was supposed to happen two years from now!”

The realization hit Ewan with the force of a physical blow, his face going pale. “In other words, because I gave one single maid two days off, a major, world-shaking event that was crucial to the protagonist’s development has been yanked forward by two entire years!”

“Damn it! Talk about a catastrophic butterfly effect!” he cursed.

“Hm? What about a butterfly, Young Master?” Anne, who had been quietly standing by, cast a curious glance at him.

“N-nothing! I was just admiring… the butterflies this year. They’re particularly beautiful. Yes, that’s it. Particularly beautiful.”

“Hehe.”

Ewan brushed her off with the lamest excuse he could think of and plunged back into his spiraling thoughts.

“But wait, if I think about it, it’s not a true ‘early start.’ This little crackdown can’t compare to the sheer scale of the Bloody River Incident. The assassination wasn’t even successful. So this is probably just the Emperor making an example of some unlucky bastards.”

“Even so, Belland’s underworld will have to lie low for a good long while. At the very least, they won’t be so audacious as to try and assassinate a member of the royal family again!”

“Which means the original assassination of the concubine, which was supposed to happen in two years, probably won’t happen now.”

“And if the concubine doesn’t die, the real Blood River Incident won’t happen.”

“But the Blood River Incident was a massive, mid-game event that was absolutely critical for the protagonist’s growth! She got caught up in the war between the Royal Knights and the underworld, faced countless life-or-death situations, and used her protagonist plot armor to level up at lightning speed! It was the bridge between the academy arc and the world-saving arc!”

“But now… it’s gone. Poof. Vanished from the timeline. All because I, Ewan Campbell, gave my maid two days off!”

“Oh, this is bad. Don’t tell me this is going to neuter the protagonist’s ability to save the world later on.” Ewan’s mind reeled with the terrifying implications. If the protagonist wasn’t strong enough to defeat the final boss, the unsealed Demon God, the entire world would be doomed!

The world would end, all because he gave my maid two days off!

“No, no, no, stop it. I’m completely overthinking this. The world can’t be that fragile!” he told himself, trying to pull back from the brink of a full-blown panic attack. “Even if the Blood River Incident is gone, something else will happen to help her grow! And who’s to say it’s even gone for good?! This is all just speculation! I don’t need to worry! The protagonist is a walking cheat code; she doesn’t need my help!”

He repeated these reassurances until his racing heart finally began to calm. The truth was, he was traumatized. One small deviation from the plot had led to a near-fatal disaster, and now he was terrified that every flap of his own butterfly wings would trigger some new, world-ending catastrophe.

“In any case,” he sighed, “I just have to trust the protagonist.”

…

“Well then, Young Master, please get some rest. I will take my leave,” Seeing that it was getting late, Anne gave a bow and prepared to depart.

“Mm, alright.”

“Ah, by the way, Young Master. A letter arrived for you.” She suddenly produced an envelope.

“A letter?” Ewan took it, turning it over in his hands. There was no postmark, nor was there a sender’s name. “Who’s it from?”

“It is from Her Highness, Princess Celicia,” Anne replied respectfully. “She asked me to deliver it to you personally.”

“…It’s from her.”

Ewan was surprised, but he simply dismissed Anne to go and rest. He stared at the plain white envelope for a long, long time.

“It’s definitely just a page full of curses, isn’t it?” he laughed at himself. For a proud princess like Celicia, who valued her virtue more than life itself, there was no way she would write him a thank-you letter just because he’d saved her. Not after what he did.

“I just hope she doesn’t get too creative with the insults.”

Ewan tore open the envelope.

Unexpectedly, it was not filled with curses.

Instead, in neat, impossibly elegant handwriting, was a single, baffling sentence:

【I will begrudgingly consider you half a man, Ewan Campbell.】

Half a man?

Can a man be divided into fractions?

Ewan was completely bewildered. But then, a moment later, the memory hit him with the force of a physical blow. He knew exactly why she had written this.

It was because of his last words.

【So now… do I look like a man to you, my princess?】

Those were the words he had uttered as he was dying, a desperate, last-ditch attempt to be cool. If he had actually died, that line would have been legendary. An absolute killer. Celicia might have never forgotten it for the rest of her life.

But… he hadn’t died!

And without the tragic finality of death, that line wasn’t cool at all. It was just… super, super cringey. It was like something out of a bad soap opera, where the domineering CEO hooks the heroine’s chin and smirks, “Do you think I’m manly, woman?”

Aaaaargh!

It’s so embarrassing I think I might actually die!

Can I be reincarnated again, just so I can go back and slap myself at that moment?!

If you’re going to die, just die! Why did you have to try and be so cool right at the end?! And with such a lame, cliché line! Even the princess couldn’t stand it! She had to write a letter just to mock you for it!

“I can’t take it anymore!”

Ewan quickly ripped the offending letter to shreds, dove under his covers, and began to wriggle around like an earthworm in a fit of pure, unadulterated shame.

…

“Half a man?”

Outside Ewan’s room, Anne stared intently at the closed door, muttering to herself. “So that means, to you, Princess, there is still a possibility that Young Master Ewan could become a whole man?”

“And what happens then? Will you fall in love with him?”

“Ah, no. No, that will not do. Young Master Ewan cannot possibly accept the love of a second woman besides me.”

Anne’s eyes gradually turned cold, a chilling, possessive light glinting in their depths.

“It seems… that certain plans must be accelerated.”