I must've slept for a long time.
The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes wasn't the cracked ceiling of my tiny apartment… nor Carl, my half-dead cactus and only real roommate.
Well—former roommate, I guess.
Because this wasn't home.
I was lying in a bed way too soft to be mine, inside a room way too spacious to fit inside my crummy apartment. A desk sat neatly by the window. The wooden floor was polished. Sunlight filtered through clean glass panes and painted the walls with golden streaks.
And the sheets?
Way too clean.
Way too expensive.
I slowly sat up, the fabric brushing against my skin like silk.
"…So everything I remember really happened, huh?"
Yeah. That was... a problem.
No—scratch that.
That was a disaster.
A week ago, I was Kael Renner—23, overworked, broke, sleep-deprived, and semi-addicted to a romance simulation game called Echoes of the Crimson Throne. I'd finished it just last night. I even planned to brag about it to my sister the next morning.
But now?
Now I'm Julies Evans.
At least, that's the name echoing in my head along with a sudden storm of foreign memories.
I'd woken up in this bed with a pounding headache and a rush of emotions and images that didn't belong to me. Memories of fencing lessons, noble etiquette, cold stares from siblings dressed in military uniforms, lavish ballrooms, and lonely corridors in a grand mansion.
All belonging to Julies.
Julies Evans. The third son of House Evans, a noble family in the Solhaven Empire.
A name that never showed up in the game.
And yet, here I was—possessing the body of this background extra in a fictional world I thought I'd left behind when I hit "End Game."
This world... this was the world of Echoes of the Crimson Throne.
A game known for tragic love triangles, noble conspiracies, beautiful men and women, and a heroine who could charm even the most ruthless of characters.
I was supposed to be a nobody.
A footnote.
A blurry face at a noble banquet. Someone who might've shown up in the background of a side quest, if that.
And now I had his life, his name, his past… and unfortunately, no idea what I was supposed to do next.
Great. Just great.
From a broke laborer to a minor noble in a game world where love interests wield swords and secrets like weapons, and betrayal is served hotter than tea.
I ran my hands through my hair and let out a long, bitter sigh.
"Minji is never gonna believe this."
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, my bare feet meeting the cold floor with a shiver.
Honestly?
I really wish I'd transmigrated a few weeks earlier.
Not that I wanted to transmigrate in the first place—despite the soul-crushing routine, mounting bills, and a borderline-dead cactus as my only companion back in my old world.
Really, I didn't!
But if fate was going to throw me into a fantasy world, it could've done me a solid and given me a head start.
Why?
Because right now, I was in the North—the frozen wasteland of the Solhaven Empire.
A land buried under endless snow and cursed with blizzards, monsters, and demon threats.
And I wasn't here for sightseeing.
Nope.
I was sent here to serve Alice Draken, the infamous villainess of Echoes of the Crimson Throne.
...Damn it!
If I had arrived a few weeks earlier, I might've been able to change Julies's future—steer it away from this disaster.
But thanks to my terrible luck, I'd only possessed Julies's body yesterday.
And thanks to receiving all of his memories, I clearly remembered that final conversation with his—my—father.
Yeah. Time for a flashback...
---
Two weeks ago. Evans Estate. Head Office.
Baron Evans, my new father, sat across from me behind a heavy oak desk. The fireplace crackled quietly in the background, but his expression was anything but warm.
"It's time for you to begin your service," he said without preamble.
"...Service?" I echoed.
"Yes. You're fifteen now. It's time you became independent."
"Ah."
Honestly?
I saw it coming.
As the third son of the declining Evans family, my future had never been promising.
No estate.
No inheritance.
Just the noble title and a polite nudge out the door.
It was tradition, really.
In noble circles, the first son inherited the estate. The second might marry into another household or become a knight. But the third?
If you were lucky, you'd be packed off to work under someone else—maybe as a soldier, maybe in business, or, in my case… a servant.
'I just hope it's a warm place with nice food…'
Given our family's status, the fact that I was getting a placement at all was a miracle.
"The Duke's family was looking for someone your age," Father said.
"The Duke's?" I blinked. "Me, working for them?"
He cleared his throat. "I may have put in a good word for you."
That caught me off guard.
I'd assumed I'd end up a border patrol guard or prison warden—maybe working in a western fortress.
"Your job will be to serve the young lady of the house," he continued.
"Young Lady? But I thought the western duke didn't have a daughter?"
"When did I say you'd be staying in the West?"
"…What?"
"You'll be heading North. You'll serve the daughter of the Northern Duke—Lady Alice Draken."
That moment still burned in my memory.
Back then, I hadn't thought too deeply about it. I'd been happy—relieved even. Serving a duke's daughter? That meant warm rooms, regular meals, and a decent chance at surviving.
But now?
Knowing what I know?
I realize I basically volunteered to join a sinking ship.
Because Alice Draken—my favorite character, mind you—is a villainess fated for tragedy.
In every single route of the game, she ends up dead, disgraced, or worse.
And I… I'm supposed to be her personal attendant.
Which means if she goes down—I go down with her.
And that's not all.
Let's talk about the North for a second.
It's not just snowy.
It's a warzone.
Demons gather near the border, monsters roam the forests, and if the cold doesn't kill you, the politics probably will.
And what did I say at the time?
"I won't disgrace the name of the Evans family, Father!"
Ugh.
"Hmm. Good. Now go," he said with all the warmth of a tax notice.
And so, off I went, traveling with a few guards for a week straight through frozen wastelands and frostbitten winds, until we arrived yesterday.
That was when the real Julies Evans handed over the reins—right before I took over his body.
So now?
Now I'm Julies.
A fifteen-year-old third son, broke in both gold and luck, trapped in the freezing North, serving a doomed villainess in a deadly game world.
…God, I really should've woken up earlier.
Damn it.
Damn it all!
I don't even have any cheats that every Transmigraters gets!
"At least give me a syste. SYSTEM!"