chapter 01
- I Was Reborn as a Side Character Who’s About to Die
I first realized I had fallen into a novel when I was wrapped in a baby blanket.
At first, everything felt unfamiliar. But over time, I slowly came to understand: I had worked myself to death and been reborn.
Luckily, I seemed to be born into a good family. Most of all, every time I opened my eyes, a young man and woman were always looking down at me.
They wore simple, modest clothes and had gentle expressions, and it didn’t take long for me to realize—they were my parents. But I never understood why they always looked at me with tears in their eyes. Before I could make out what they were whispering, I would fall asleep again.
Then one day, something changed.
Even though I usually couldn’t stay awake for long due to an overwhelming need to sleep, that day I somehow kept my eyes wide open.
“You’re actually awake today. Maybe you already know I came up with your name.”
A kind voice. The man who was supposedly my father gently held me and spoke.
“Blandea Lefevre. That’s your name. It means days that shine bright like gold.”
As soon as I heard that name, a strange feeling crept over me—cold, like a dagger piercing my chest. What was this sensation?
Before I could make sense of it, my father’s face blurred from my view.
“Blandea, I promise you, as the head of the Lefevre family—I’ll do whatever it takes to make you well again.”
“Yes, darling…”
My mother, who was beside him, said tearfully.
“You have to get better so you can meet your brother. Enricor will be back from the academy soon.”
Enricor…
Lefevre…
Enricor Lefevre?
The name was so familiar it made my blood run cold. I wanted to deny it with all my might. It was the name of a supporting character in a novel I had been reading right up until the day I died.
My mother stroked my head and whispered with a voice full of sorrow:
“Look at her. She’s got Enricor’s blond hair. She really looks like his little sister… If only she didn’t have that incurable illness…”
And once again, their words dissolved into sobs.
My mother and father both teared up, but I was too busy with another thought.
“Wait, where exactly… who exactly have I been reborn as?”
Did I really get reborn into that insane massacre novel?
A novel where over 80% of the characters die. A novel with a completely unhinged title…
And I was reborn as a minor side character who dies before even turning three?
“The Tragic End of the Mad Beauty.”
That was the title of the novel I had been reborn into.
Even the title was intense—and the novel was still ongoing when I died. I hadn’t even finished it.
So how did I recognize it just from hearing a single name?
Because I had been obsessed with one of the side characters. The day that character died protecting the main lead, I literally cried while clutching my phone and left a comment:
Let’s see how well this world does now that they’ve killed off my favorite!
I was so full of rage that I kept rereading all the scenes with my favorite character. That’s why the moment I heard my new parents’ conversation, I instantly recognized where I was.
I had been reincarnated into that novel? And as Blandea Lefevre, a short-lived side character who only appears in flashbacks?
The only small relief was that I knew the story really well, having reread it countless times day and night. Blandea didn’t have much of a role in the novel, but her older brother Enricor was actually a pretty important side character. I had even read every single extra chapter featuring minor characters, so I remembered the one single line that described Blandea Lefevre’s life.
“My little sister, Blandea,”
Enricor spoke through clenched teeth.
“She died from a painful illness before even turning three.”
Damn it!
I wanted to scream, but I was a baby—I couldn’t even cry out loud!
“Master, Madam, the cure isn’t progressing well. The illness the young lady has is just too rare… We’re doing everything we can with the family’s resources, but…”
The butler’s words were gloomy—just like always.
So even a powerful noble family can’t just create a cure easily, huh…
The Lefevre family, the one I was born into, was one of the most prominent in the capital. Thanks to that, they were pouring huge amounts of money and effort into creating a treatment for me.
But no matter how much money or knowledge you have, developing a new medicine isn’t easy. In the original story, the Lefevre family did manage to make the cure in the end.
The problem was…
It was only completed years after I—Blandea—died.
No way.
My poor health seemed to weigh heavily on my parents. Their faces grew darker with each passing day. Still, whenever I opened my eyes, they always smiled kindly at me.
I wanted to reach out to them, but my body wouldn’t move.
I was barely awake for a few minutes at a time, and every time I did wake up, I could feel my body getting stiffer. It was an illness that made you lose feeling bit by bit. Was I really just going to die like this, little by little? I had to find a way to get the cure faster.
“Blandea, are you awake?”
Lying in bed, I looked up at the small boy leaning over me.
Enricor Lefevre.
He was just three years older than me—a kid himself. He stared at me with wide eyes and spoke.
“Did you know you’re already two years old?”
Yeah, I know, you little brat…
“I hope you get out of bed soon. Let’s go on a picnic together.”
I wonder when I’ll ever be able to leave this bed…
Enricor came to see me all the time and chattered away, but I could never respond.
I—Blandea—was truly sick.
I couldn’t speak, and I had nerve damage that caused a severe case of congenital insensitivity to pain—I couldn’t feel anything at all.
I had to find a way to survive before my third birthday.
But even with all my determination, I kept getting dragged into sleep again and again. The doctors said my illness came with hypersomnia—a constant, overwhelming need to sleep.
Then one day—
Enricor, who came to see me like always, suddenly said something that felt like a bolt of lightning.
“Your birthday’s in two months, Blandea. You’ll be three.”
Thanks for the reminder, damn it…
Time had flown by way faster than I thought. I figured I had about 24 months, but I had clearly lost more time than that.
No wonder my family always looked so heartbroken when they saw me.
I’d just been… sleeping.
Now, I had no time to waste. I had to act now.
A few nights later, while the whole mansion was asleep, I carefully climbed out of my crib.
I had tried hundreds of times to do this before.
Maybe it was because I didn’t want to die—tonight, the sleep that always crushed me wasn’t so strong. My stiff body even moved a little.
I need to get to the back garden. That’s my only hope.
I grabbed the bars of the crib and tried to climb over.
Thud!
I crashed to the floor.
If they hadn’t laid thick carpets all over my room, I might’ve died right then and there from a concussion. I broke into a cold sweat and headed out.
“Go out of your room, take the hallway to the left, and the back garden’s right there.”
I remembered Enricor babbling that over and over again. I had paid attention.
My room was on the first floor, so thankfully the garden wasn’t far. Actually, it was pretty close.
The only problem was… the door would definitely be closed.
But I had crawled all the way here for this moment.
If I could just stand up, grab the doorknob, and use all my strength to turn it—!
