episode_0001

“P-please, no more…!”

Cracks slowly spread across the barrier Cecilia had erected.

“Just… just hold on a little longer! Lu, are you ready yet?!”

Elia, pouring her magic into the crumbling barrier of Saintess Cecilia, shouted.

No wonder she’s a princess—even in a situation like this, her voice rings out loud and clear.

“It’s done! Christine, now!”

“I know!”

The moment the holy sword in Lu’s hands touched Christine’s, it began to hum and emit a blinding light.

That’s my little sister for you.

The light was overwhelming.

So much so that, for a moment, even I almost deluded myself into thinking this attack might actually be enough to defeat the Demon King.

“This… is the end!”

Whoosh—

The Demon King flicked his wrist casually, and the beam of light Lu had unleashed vanished into nothingness.

“…Huh?”

Disbelieving voices overlapped, and in the next instant, I swiftly stepped in front of everyone.

The Demon King wasn’t the type to spare those who failed to kill him—especially not if they were the Hero’s party.

As the Demon King lazily waved his hand again, the space around it distorted.

The distortion grew, taking shape into a wave of destruction that slowly advanced toward me.

It was moving painfully slow. If I wanted to run, I could’ve easily escaped.

But its target was never me to begin with.

It was aimed at the girls collapsed and exhausted behind me.

Not that they could’ve run anyway.

Sigh…

I took a deep breath and pulled out a small pendant from my pocket, holding it out in front of me.

The Necklace of Sacrifice—an artifact that forcibly teleports everyone except its owner.

The first relic I sought out the moment I arrived in this world.

Even in the worst-case scenario, there had to be a way to survive.

The Demon King watched me with folded arms, looking mildly intrigued.

Yeah, keep underestimating me.

I gave the pendant a small shake, and at the same time, the bodies of everyone behind me began to fade.

Useless effect, and it’s not even instant?

The destruction crept closer. And unlike them, my body showed no signs of fading.

Finally, they seemed to realize what I was trying to do, frantically shouting.

“W-what are you doing?! Get over here, now!”

Christine, who usually recoiled at my mere presence, was reaching out toward me.

I’m touched, sis.

“That’s right! We might’ve failed this time, but next time—”

Nope. No next time. This is the Demon King at his weakest.

If we couldn’t kill him now, it’s over.

I rummaged through my pocket again and tossed a small pocket watch toward Lu.

The Artifact of World Regression. I nearly died clearing dungeons alone to get it, without a single heroine by my side.

If she’s as loved by the world as she’s supposed to be, she’ll figure out how to use it.

Huff… huff…

The wave of destruction was now right in front of me.

Even though I’d prepared for this, dying with a clear mind wasn’t exactly easy.

The only thing keeping me from running was the thought that if I died here, I’d never get my 40 billion won.

I’d done everything I could. Now, the heroines would find true happiness in the second iteration of this world.

Its protagonist—unlike me—would have everyone hanging on his every word, prioritizing him above all else.

Just like the original story.

That’s what a real protagonist is.

I briefly wondered if I should say something cool before dying, then gave up.

Still, seeing the way they were looking at me now, it almost felt like all the humiliation I’d endured was finally being repaid.

Should’ve treated me better while you had the chance, you brats.

“I told you so.”

“Eric! I—we—you—”

“It’s fine. Thank you, all of you.”

A normal guy like me got to experience things I never would’ve otherwise.

Even if I went back, at least I wouldn’t be pushed around or cowed by authority anymore.

An apology now was too late. Besides, I didn’t even resent them—they weren’t the ones at fault.

If you’ve got something to say, say it to the second iteration’s me.

Though in that world, the protagonist won’t be me—it’ll be the one who was supposed to be there from the start.

“……”

As Lu’s unheard words marked the end, and I was left alone, I actually felt at peace.

The Demon King still hadn’t moved.

Then, quietly, she spoke.

“——-”

“…What?”

The destruction tore through my body.

——-

“And yet, this was supposed to be my definitive end.”

[Grant True Happiness to All Main Heroines! 0/4■]

Every time I opened my eyes, the quest window greeted me, and I couldn’t help but grimace.

My 40 billion…

At this rate, I’d forget what my original world was even like.

Not that it was surprising.

This wasn’t my first time.

Not even my second.

Two whole times living in this godforsaken world—of course my memories of home were fading.

If I didn’t distract myself every day by pointlessly fantasizing about what I’d do with that 40 billion, I felt like this world would swallow me whole.

When I was first born—no, possessed—into this world, I still had hope.

Even if I’d been suddenly thrust into it, this was a world from a novel I knew well.

I wasn’t some obsessive fan who memorized every little event and lucky encounter like the protagonists of other transmigration stories, but I at least knew all the major plot points.

The novel I’d read was a cliché-riddled regression revenge story, and that memory served me well.

The kind, pure-hearted protagonist, Eric, devoted himself to the heroines like a dog, only to die a miserable death.

And then, the heroines—who failed to protect him—miraculously regressed, filled with regret, and spent the next timeline pampering him.

A perfect narrative arc.

If I hadn’t been the one stuck in Eric’s body, I’d have applauded the happy ending.

But as some famous actor once said: “Tragedy from up close, comedy from afar.”

I had to live through the first iteration—the one before the heroines regressed—enduring everything firsthand.

How does it feel to be the protagonist of a regret story?

Don’t ever try it.

“How am I supposed to trust anything you give me?”

Princess Elia tossed the incriminating documents—evidence that could decide the royal succession—straight into the fireplace as she spoke.

“Get lost. You’re in the way.”

That was Lu, the hero candidate, when I tried to teach her the proper breathing technique to wield the holy sword more naturally.

“Honestly, being related to you is embarrassing. Why don’t you just go die in a ditch somewhere?”

My dear little sister Christine, always so eloquent.

“Oh my. This is what you call a gift…?”

Saintess Cecilia—known for her kindness and warmth—carelessly tossed the old cross I’d given her (a lost relic of the first Pope) into a corner as she spoke.

Fucking hell.

Since nothing I said ever got through to them, every action had to be done in secret, without the heroines knowing.

If I was unlucky enough to get caught, all I’d earn was their scornful glares—”What’s this bastard up to now?”

Any protagonist who could still think straight after this treatment had to be a saint.

No matter how pretty their faces were, if they treated me like shit, they looked like shit.

And these girls weren’t just anyone—they were the central figures of the story.

With them openly despising me, everyone around me followed suit.

Still, it wasn’t all bad.

I knew everything that was going to happen.

Since this was a regret story, the heroines naturally tried to ruin me, stacking up karma to repay in the next iteration.

But I wasn’t some pushover either.

I’ve read enough regret stories to know how this goes.

And, call it the privilege of knowing the novel I’d transmigrated into, but I even felt a little sorry for them.

No matter how suspicious the circumstances, they were made to distrust me unconditionally.

So their snide remarks and bullying became something I could endure.

If they blamed me for oversleeping and being late, what else was there to say?

Having a scapegoat around must’ve been convenient for them.

Every time irrational violence came my way, curses bubbled up in my throat—but I never let them out.

And of course, more than anything else, what kept me going was the knowledge that if I saw this story through, I could return to reality.

Just some mental stress and light violence in exchange for 40 billion?

I’d do it as many times as it takes.

Since I already knew the novel’s plot, all I had to do was play the role of the unseen benefactor, making sure the heroines stumbled upon their destined encounters and grew stronger at the right moments.

And so, for three long years, I endured gaslighting, violence, mockery, neglect, and being treated like a servant—all while secretly helping them from the shadows.

Then, our glorious party, fresh from leaving the academy (a place that still triggered my trauma), spectacularly failed in our mission to slay the Demon King.

Not that it was our fault.

Understandable.

Sure.

They ignored every “essential quest” I warned them about, pointlessly trained on their own, and wasted time forming unnecessary bonds instead.

The only reason we even reached the Demon King was because I force-fed them whatever opportunities I could.

The original protagonist, with no foreknowledge, died to one of the Four Heavenly Kings in the first timeline.

What chance did I have?

The only silver lining was that I’d secured the regression artifact—the item needed to start the second iteration—beforehand.

In the original story, the heroines scoured the world to find a way to revive the dead protagonist.

But why would I trust them to find it?

With variables already in play, I figured I should control what I could.

Besides, the protagonist from the next world onward wouldn’t be me.

If nothing else, I had to make sure they didn’t break down mentally.

Ugh, I’m such an angel.