The first thing I felt was the headache.
It wasn't a normal headache. It felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to my temples and then decided to do a tap dance on my brain.
"Ugh... five more minutes," I mumbled, burying my face into the pillow.
Wait.
I paused. The pillow felt amazing. It was soft, silky, and smelled like expensive perfume. My pillows back at my studio apartment usually smelled like old laundry detergent and despair. And since when was my bed this big? I rolled over, stretching my arms, and didn't hit the wall.
I opened one eye.
The ceiling was high. Ridiculously high. And instead of my cracked popcorn ceiling, there was a chandelier made of black crystals hanging above me. The walls were covered in dark red velvet.
"Okay," I said to the empty room. "This is definitely not my apartment."
I sat up, rubbing my neck. The memories hit me a second later. Not my memories, but someone else's.
A name floated up: Valerius Lucifer.
7th Prince of the Demon Empire. The Shame of the Royal Family. The Pig of Gluttony.
"No way," I whispered.
I scrambled out of bed. My legs felt heavy, and I was a bit shorter than I was used to. I ran—well, waddled slightly—over to the massive floor-to-length mirror in the corner.
A stranger stared back at me.
He had pale skin, sharp red eyes, and messy black hair. He would have been handsome if he didn't look like he hadn't slept in a week. Also, he was... soft. Not obese, exactly, but definitely a guy who enjoyed his snacks way too much. He was wearing black silk pajamas that looked like they cost more than my entire college tuition.
"I'm Valerius," I said, poking my own cheek. The reflection poked its cheek too. "I'm the villain."
I knew this face. I knew this room.
This was The Sword of Dawn. It was that trashy web novel I fell asleep reading last night.
And Valerius? Valerius was the tutorial boss. He was the arrogant, lazy prince who gets beaten up by the Hero in Volume 3 to show off the Hero's new Holy Sword. He dies screaming, abandoned by his family, bleeding out in a muddy ditch.
"Great," I sighed, slumping against the wall. "Just great. I didn't get isekai'd as the Hero? Or at least a cool merchant? I had to be the guy who dies in the prologue arc?"
I rubbed my temples again. The panic should have been setting in, but honestly? I was too tired.
Knock. Knock.
The heavy wooden door creaked open. A maid walked in, carrying a silver basin of water. She had small horns curling from her forehead—a low-ranking demon.
As soon as she saw me standing there, she froze. Her face went pale. The water in the basin rippled as her hands started shaking.
"Y-Your Highness!" she squeaked, dropping to her knees so fast I thought she broke her kneecaps. She smashed her forehead against the floor. "Forgive me! I didn't know you were awake! Please don't kill me! Please don't feed me to the shadow hounds!"
I blinked. "Uh, good morning?"
She flinched like I'd thrown a rock at her. "P-Please have mercy!"
Right. I forgot. The original Valerius was a total jerk. He used to execute servants if his tea was too cold.
"Get up," I said, waving my hand. "I'm not gonna kill you. I just want to wash my face."
The maid looked up, terror written all over her face. She looked like she was waiting for the punchline. When I didn't kick her, she scrambled up, put the basin on the table, and backed away, trembling.
I splashed cold water on my face. It helped.
Okay, focus, I thought. What's the timeline?
If I remember the novel correctly, Valerius wakes up with a massive hangover three days before the "Royal Selection." And that's when...
My blood ran cold.
The assassination.
In the original story, the 3rd Prince—my "loving" older brother—sends an assassin to kill Valerius before the Selection even starts. Valerius survives only because his guards intervene at the last second, but he gets poisoned and loses half his mana. That's why he's so weak when the Hero fights him later.
"Three days," I muttered.
"D-Did you say something, Your Highness?" the maid whimpered from the corner.
"No, nothing. You can go."
She didn't walk out; she practically sprinted. The door clicked shut.
I sighed and walked over to the balcony. I pushed the heavy curtains aside. The view was breathtaking—a sprawling city of black stone and gothic spires, lit by a crimson sun. Flying monsters circled the towers like pigeons.
It was beautiful. It was majestic.
"It's too much work," I complained.
I didn't want to fight for the throne. I didn't want to fight the Hero. I just wanted to live a rich, lazy life where nobody tried to stab me.
But if I did nothing, the assassin would come in three days. If I survived that, the Hero would come in six months.
I needed insurance.
"Status Window," I whispered. It was worth a shot.
Ping.
A translucent blue box appeared in front of me.
[Name: Valerius Lucifer] [Race: High Demon] [Rank: 7th Prince] [Mana: Low (Blocked)] [Strength: 5] [Agility: 3] [Stamina: 4]
I groaned. Those stats were garbage. A normal human soldier had a Strength of 10. I was literally weaker than a town guard.
But then, I saw the last line.
[Unique Authority: Gluttony of the Monarch (Awakening...)] [Description: The power to devour. You do not need to train. You only need to take. Consume the energy of others to make it your own.]
I stared at it. In the novel, Valerius never unlocked this. He was too lazy to figure out his own power. He just thought his Authority was "eating a lot of food," so he just got fat.
"So he really was an idiot," I muttered.
I grinned. It wasn't an evil grin—at least, I didn't think so—but in the reflection of the glass window, my red eyes glowed menacingly.
If I could steal stats... then I didn't need to train for ten years like the Hero. I just needed to find some bad guys, beat them up, and steal their hard work.
Efficiency. I liked that.
"Alright," I stretched my arms again. "Step one: Don't die in three days. Step two: Find a way to make this Authority work. Step three... maybe get some breakfast. I'm starving."
I turned away from the window. The game had started, and I wasn't planning on losing. But first, I really needed to see if the royal chefs knew how to make pancakes.