ABDB – CH 01

Chapter 01

“Why so quiet?”

So this is the situation I’m in now.

“How does it feel to finally meet the man you’ve been desperately avoiding?”

“……Why are you the ‘Grand Duke Repert’?”

Yep. It was that classic situation:
“The man you’ve been dodging for a month turns out to be someone you actually know.”

“They call this kind of thing destiny.”

His red eyes curved slyly, matching his fiery personality.
When he wiped the whipped cream off my nose with his finger, it tickled terribly.

Then that lunatic, who caused this mess, grabbed a tissue and started scrubbing his own hand like a germaphobe before speaking again.

“Well, I guess there’s no helping it now.”

“W–What do you mean?”

The spring breeze ruffled his black hair—it brushed against my cheek.
For reference, my hair is silver.
Which means that psycho is right in front of my face.

So close that I could feel his breath, the novel’s villain—Caron Repert—whispered playfully:

“Let’s go greet your family.”

“…Pardon?”

“If we’re to marry in May, we’ll have to hurry.”

That’s insane! It’s the last day of April!

How did things get this way?

I was supposed to be a minor extra who dies at a blind date, not this!

“On second thought, we don’t need guests. I’ll just find a priest right now.”

His mischievous red eyes gleamed.
At least he hadn’t pulled out a sword yet, so I was probably safe for the moment—but this guy was dangerous.

What’s the point of avoiding death flags if staying near him will kill me anyway?!

In the original story, Caron Repert was infamous for his madness.
A murderer who would kill even his family or friends if they displeased him.
And as if that weren’t enough, he was absurdly powerful—the final boss who blocked every hero’s path.

“Jeril Rubian. What do you think?”

As his piercing red gaze met mine, the last excuse I could muster slipped out.

“I—I already have a boyfriend!”

“…What?”

If I’d known what would follow, I’d have never said that.

***

“Miss, another letter has arrived!”

“Burn it! No—wait, give it here. I’ll burn it myself!”

“But it’s sealed with the Grand Duke’s crest…”

Jeril was on the verge of losing her mind.
Caron Repert—the Grand Duke and the novel’s villain—had been sending her letters nonstop for a month.

“If you keep ignoring him, he might actually storm in here. Why not just meet him once? They say he’s as handsome as he is scary.”

That’s exactly the problem!

“Jeril Rubian” was just an extra from the novel The Saint’s Blade Aims at the Crown Prince.

I’d read it twenty years ago.
It began with a saint seeking revenge on the emperor who killed her twin sister.
But she fell in love with the crown prince, and the story fizzled out.

The author said, “Love triumphs over hate.”

Sure, tell that to the dead twin.

But none of that mattered now.

“Don’t worry too much, miss. The Grand Duke wouldn’t really kill you, right?”

“Yeah, right.”

“Heh, you’re funny.”

It wasn’t a joke.
In the story, the Grand Duke was insane—he really did kill people.

And I was supposed to die during our blind date.

When I realized that, I nearly fainted.

When I first woke up in a baby’s body with my 24-year-old mind, I thought, “Oh, is this one of those parenting stories?”

Nope.
I was a nameless orphan abandoned at a temple, destined to die young.

Still, survival is instinct.
So I followed that instinct and avoided the meeting.

That led to two weeks of letter bombardment.

When you say ‘I can’t make it,’ normal people just say ‘Okay’ and move on, right?

But not him.
He kept writing—demanding explanations—endlessly.

“Belle, what’s the marriage age limit for royals again?”

“Twenty-seven, I think.”

“And how old is the Grand Duke?”

“Twenty-six. If he’s still unmarried next year, he’ll lose his royal title.”

Damn royal law.

But why me?
If it’s just to keep his status, anyone would do.

Is it one of those ‘You’re the first woman to ever reject me’ things?

Except in his case, it’d be, “You’re the first woman to reject me—so die.”

Jeril pouted and picked up the stack of letters Belle had organized.

***

To Lady Rubian:
I heard you refused our arranged meeting. Please meet me again tomorrow at 1 PM at the café in the square.

She didn’t go, of course.
Back then, she still had a little bit of politeness left. She even replied:

To His Grace, the Grand Duke:
I’m terribly sorry, but I’m unwell. I hope you find a good lady to be your match.

His reply?

To Lady Rubian:
I understand. However, my butler saw you galloping around town like a wild foal. Perhaps you should drop the excuses.

That was when his patience ran out.

From then on, the letter attacks began.

To Lady Rubian:
Since you haven’t replied, I’m beginning to worry that you’ve broken your fingers…

Then…

Lady Rubian…

Lady Ru…

Lady…

…

How long do you plan to ignore me?

His tone grew rougher by the day, and by the most recent letter, he didn’t even bother with greetings.

At this rate, she wasn’t avoiding death—she was creating new death flags.

Still, she told herself: If I’m going to die anyway, I might as well delay it as long as possible!

Then, three days ago, the letters suddenly stopped.

So why did he send another one now?!

Hands trembling, she took the letter from Belle.

“Let me see it…”

Her pale blue eyes darkened. Her silver hair gleamed under the sunlight, making her look like a tragic heroine.

She opened the slightly singed envelope.

“Did he burn the edges himself? Well, he’s a red mage—guess that figures. I just hope he doesn’t roast me alive next.”

In this world, there were three kinds of magic: general, red, and blue.
General magicians could use basic spells, but red and blue mages surpassed human limits in specific fields.
Red mages specialized in destruction—and had the tempers to match.

Yeah, that temper’s the reason he kills me later.

Jeril shivered and read the letter.
Unlike before, it was short.

After two weeks of ignoring him and three days of silence, the message was:

“Hey.”

That’s it. Just one word.

She felt tears prick her eyes.

I’m screwed.

***

No matter how miserable life gets, it still goes on.

So Jeril went to work—at the orphan treatment center—despite standing at death’s door.

While she stomped nervously on the mansion lawn waiting for her carriage, a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, going to the kids’ clinic again?”

“Yeah…”

“Still don’t get why you bother. They don’t even pay you.”

“I’m repaying karmic debt…”

“You say that every time. What’s wrong? You look pale. Did you take your meds?”

The handsome young man squinted his red eyes.
Despite his angelic looks, Leon—her adoptive younger brother—was a mischievous brat.

Thankfully, Jeril wasn’t abused in this life.
Her adoptive family simply… ignored her.

Not that I needed their love anyway.

Life is solo. Survival too!

That thought cheered her up slightly.

“Don’t overdo it this time. You fainted last week after using your powers.”

“….”

“You burn up your own life force to use magic, remember? Try not to play the saint.”

She ignored his nagging until their father appeared.

“Mind your tongue, Leon.”

It was Marquis Rubian. Jeril bowed politely.

His ruby-like eyes gave her a cold look.
Despite his gentle face, his gaze was sharp and intimidating.

“Still, Leon isn’t wrong. Be careful. If anyone finds out you’re a blue mage, it’ll be trouble.”

“…Yes, Father.”

“Remember, blue mages have been extinct for centuries. Keep it that way.”

With that, he left.

Leon grumbled,
“See? If the palace finds out, they’ll use you as a healing machine—or an experiment.”

“I told you, the kid was dying. I couldn’t just watch.”

“Saint Jeril, huh? Can’t believe someone like you is a blue mage.”

Indeed, being an extra with overpowered abilities was… inconvenient.

Blue mages specialized in healing magic.
But both red and blue mages suffered from madness—which is why they vanished a thousand years ago.

If anyone finds out, my life’s over.

So she pretended to be a simple healer.

Still, she had one strange ability left.

She could see people’s karma.

Jeril glanced at the glowing number above Leon’s head.

[Karma: 25]

Higher than yesterday. What did you do this time, brat?

The numbers showed how much sin someone had accumulated.

Would’ve been better if it was a ‘like meter.’ Then I could actually use it.

But at least it helped her avoid trouble.
Anyone with a karma score above 50 was dangerous.
And if it reached 100…

“Hey, are you even listening?”

She snapped out of her thoughts when Leon snapped his fingers in front of her.

“Oh no, I’m late! I’ve got to go!”

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t die, okay?!”

She waved vaguely and climbed into the waiting carriage.

For all his attitude, Leon really did care.
That warmth made her forget the unpleasant thought that had been haunting her.

***

“Good work today, Miss Jeril.”

“Thank you. Luckily, not many sick kids today. I’ll head home.”

“Be careful, okay? A serial killer escaped from prison. People are on edge.”

“This is the capital, I’ll be fine.”

Humming happily, she left the clinic.

Kids are so cute. Way better than shady adults.

Like, say… the Grand Duke.

She was thinking just that when—

“Aaaah!”

A scream rang out from an alley.

Her coworker’s warning flashed in her mind.

[A serial killer escaped…]

No way… right?

But her instincts screamed otherwise.

Sure enough, when she turned, a man with a bloodstained knife was sprinting straight toward her.

Oh, come on!

Out of all the people in the street, his crazed eyes locked right on her.

[Karma: 99]

99?! What kind of monster has karma that high?!

Criminals usually ranged from 50 to 80.
Which meant this guy was pure evil.

She had to run.
If his number hit 100—

“Don’t move! Or I’ll kill you!”

Too late.

The cold blade pressed against her neck.

“No…”

Desperate, she glared at the number above his head, praying—

[Karma: +1]
[Karma: 100]

The moment his karma hit 100—

Bang!

A gunshot echoed.

The man’s body jerked violently, blood splattering over her legs.
Then strong arms caught her and pulled her into a solid chest.

“Stay with me.”

The smell of gunpowder and smoke filled her nose.

When someone’s karma reached 100… they died.

“Why is it always in front of me…”

A deep, rough voice shook her.

“Hey! Wake up!”

The powerful warmth radiating from him jolted her mind awake.

She looked up—and froze.

What the…?

Fierce red eyes glared down at her.

It felt like facing a wild beast.

His disheveled black hair, sharp features, and burning gaze—all of it screamed danger.
His large hand covered her shoulder completely.

Part of her was convinced he might just bite her throat.

“If you’re done freaking out, get off. You’re in the way.”

And then she smelled it—

The same scent as that letter.

The smell of gunpowder and smoke.

Caron Repert.