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TTMLPTWW – Chapter 19

TTMLPTWW - Chapter 19

Masera, dressed in a clean shirt and sweater, sat on the sofa and opened a newspaper.

“Can you even read that?”

Cynthia asked, watching him rely on the faint light from the fireplace to read.

“I can see it.”

“You too, Brigadier General? I can see better in the dark too. Weird, right?”

“…That’s how it is for everyone.”

‘They say blonde-haired, blue-eyed westerners see really well in the dark.’*

Recalling something from a wuxia novel she once read, Cynthia nodded and sat down across from him.

“Bright places kind of blind me. Not enough to need glasses, but my eyesight’s not that great.”

“I can read the print from books in the building across the street.”

Cynthia gaped in surprise at his words.

“Are you a telescope?”

“…I used to be a sniper. My eyesight is about 6.0.”

“Wow, are you a descendant of Genghis Khan or something? You’ve basically got a built-in 6x scope. If you can see in the dark too, you probably don’t even need thermal vision.”

“Who’s Genghis Khan?”

‘And how does she even know this stuff?’

Masera quickly turned his head after catching a glimpse of Cynthia’s linen nightgown.

The material was slightly sheer, and for someone with vision like his, it was a problem.

“Why are you sitting in front of me dressed like that?”

“It’s no different from regular loungewear… besides, this is a bedroom.”

He wasn’t a complete stranger, and they were practically married.

“Is the nightgown weird or something…?”

Seeing her look slightly deflated, Masera suddenly remembered what he’d blurted out in anger before dinner, after that awkward embrace.

“Seriously… nothing but a pain.”

That line had been bothering him for a while now.

‘Was I too harsh?’

“What I said earlier… I didn’t mean it.”

“You mean calling the jellied eel gross? Don’t worry, I bet everyone else thought the same. I was the rude one for offering it. I never imagined you’d actually eat it.”

Cynthia replied with a brightness that rivaled daylight.

She hadn’t heard the words that came after “Seriously…” earlier, as she was too caught up in the embrace at the time.

“My sister and the Duke are leaving for their honeymoon tomorrow. The rest of the family is heading back too.”

Masera had no way of knowing that, but watching Cynthia speak so casually about it made him feel a twinge of guilt.

He assumed she was pretending not to care.

There’d been a soldier like that in his old unit too—always smiling, always cheerful, seemingly carefree, but inwardly crushed by depression.

Masera’s eyes, the color of dawn mist, grew darker.

“Was there somewhere you always wanted to visit in Medea?”

“For the honeymoon, you mean? Can I plan the trip? I’ll make a detailed itinerary. I think it’ll be really fun with you, Brigadier General!”

Seeing her eyes sparkle with excitement only deepened the unease in his chest.

She had mentioned wanting to see the sea, and judging by her chat with the ladies earlier, visiting the maritime kingdom of Medea had clearly been a long-held dream.

She must’ve been so excited to finally make it come true—using the honeymoon as her chance.

“Thank you for the pretty dress, Brigadier General. Now, where should we go for the honeymoon? I’ve always wanted to—”

“We’re not going.”

Not until he shut her down like that.

‘Why does this feel…’

He ran a hand through his platinum hair and narrowed his eyes.

‘…like I’m the bad guy here?’

Just imagining the moment he’d have to break things off cleanly in the future made a vague sense of guilt bubble up inside him.

“I didn’t think… you’d actually say we should divorce.”

Could he really deliver such cold words to a face so full of fragile sorrow?

Masera felt a rising sense of danger—he couldn’t let himself be swayed by that pale, delicate girl anymore.

‘Fine. The honeymoon, at least.’

If it was her dream, he could allow that much. He couldn’t risk ruining the engagement.

After that, whether she cried her eyes out or withered away into nothing… that wouldn’t be his concern.

Until then, he would calculate just how much kindness to offer her.

“I had fun talking with you. I’m going to bed now. Sleep well—see you tomorrow.”

Yawning, she stood and waved goodnight.

Masera climbed down to the floor and leaned back against the sofa.

His body was used to overnight watch from years in the military, and in unfamiliar places, this was the most comfortable position.

Meanwhile, Cynthia sat on the edge of the bed and tilted her head, watching him seated on the floor with the sofa as his backrest.

‘Isn’t that… a Korean thing?’

Eventually, curiosity won out.

“Why are you sleeping like that?”

“I find this comfortable.”

“Is it because the room’s big? Even with all the firewood, it’s kind of chilly. Should I get you another blanket?”

“I don’t get cold easily.”

For a while, Cynthia didn’t respond. Maybe she’d finally fallen asleep—silence settled in.

Just as Masera began to close his eyes—

“You secretly went to build a snowman, didn’t you? Your gloves were all wet.”

“…”

He pretended to be asleep and didn’t answer. He couldn’t think of anything to say to such an absurd question.

He figured she’d stop soon, but…

“You’re out there doing fun stuff alone. I could’ve made you a snow duck, you know.”

‘Just go to sleep already.’

Exhausted by her endless chatter, Masera silently vowed that after they got married, they would definitely be sleeping in separate rooms.

 

* * *

 

“Colonel, we’ve lost communication with headquarters!”

“We’re running low on food, fuel, and winter gear! Without resupply, our entire unit will be wiped out!”

Masera was dreaming of the past again.

Back when he was still Colonel Masera Guise, before he was ever granted a title.

It was the memory of the tragedy, when a supply line was cut off by a blizzard, leading to near-total annihilation.

Only a few survived—Masera, then a colonel, and the Duke, who had still been a lieutenant colonel, made it out alive.

The same went for the other noble-born officers.

“Was it you, Colonel, who ordered that suicidal charge just to keep the nobles alive? Did you sacrifice soldiers to reduce mouths to feed?”

In truth, it hadn’t been Masera’s decision.

The one who gave that order without authorization was Duke Henry Rukanosa—his superior at the time.

His logic had been simple: If they were all going to die anyway, better to let the “important ones” survive.

And in his mind, “important” meant noble.

“How could you be so cruel? Why didn’t you send me to die too? I’m no better—I lived while my comrades were slaughtered just because I was a noble…”

Even as Masera was vilified as a heartless monster, the Duke pretended to know nothing to the very end.

“The Bariesa Dynasty has already collapsed, so why are we still out here fighting? What are we even dying for—cleaning up their mess?”

Among the survivors’ cries, Masera could still hear the whimpers of a common soldier, frostbitten and rotting from the cold.

“Colonel… it’s so cold…”

Masera’s eyelids slowly lifted from the weight of the nightmare. The violet cast in his icy blue eyes deepened.

Somewhere along the line, the soldier’s voice had faded, replaced by the sound of Cynthia’s sleepy murmuring.

“Mmm… it’s cold.”

A chill had crept into the room. The fireplace had nearly gone out, its embers barely glowing.

Masera tossed in more logs and struck a match. It would take a while for the warmth to return.

Cynthia, bundled under the covers and trembling, caught his attention. He wanted to remain indifferent—but she really did find ways to be persistently bothersome.

He walked over and felt the cold fabric of her blanket. White strands of hair peeked out from under it, the rest of her completely buried.

Then, as the warmth began to return, Cynthia shifted and half-emerged from the covers, her face relaxed in sleep.

Masera stared quietly at her.

Come to think of it, everything had started with that senseless war brought on by the incompetent Bariesa royal family.

The revolutionaries had wiped out the Bariesa line, hunting down every last member of the royal family to secure their regime.

“Please, please—hide us. My daughter and I… we’ll give you everything we have.”

He’d been about six years old.

A woman had shown up at their door, carrying a child who looked around three or four.

She’d been dressed in worn clothes, but carried herself with grace.

The little girl, wrapped snugly in a blanket that smelled faintly of something sweet, had only her face poking out.

“Oh, you poor thing. I don’t know what happened, but as a mother myself, I just can’t turn you away. Come in, warm yourself.”

Masera’s mother, not knowing a thing, had taken pity and offered shelter.

The woman, in return, had handed over a red diamond necklace.

“We’re refugees too, and the people here helped us a lot. We’re just paying that kindness forward—there’s no need to repay it. Your husband is in the North, right? It’ll be a long journey. I’ll pack you some bread and butter.”

But the woman insisted on leaving the necklace behind—to repay the favor.

And that necklace became the root of tragedy.

Masera’s mother was branded as a greedy traitor who had helped a fugitive royal in exchange for jewels.

The revolutionaries executed her.

Masera, left behind as a war orphan, fought tooth and nail to survive in a world that had taken everything from him.

And now, another girl—another survivor—stood before him.

Lost in memory, Masera’s eyes drifted to Cynthia’s neck.

The red necklace, the one that had condemned his mother to death…

Is the same one hanging from Cynthia’s neck.

 

 

💟 Translator Notes 💟
“시력이 6.0” is a Korean visual acuity measurement—approximately 20/3.3 in the U.S.

*색목인 (literally: colored eyes) in pulp martial-arts fiction refers to a blonde-haired, blue-blue eyed heroines.

 

🫰🏼🍓🍓🍓💜🍓🍓🍓🫰🏼
Hello there!
Different note today. I realize I am a bit of a slow uploader, so I thought I would do something a little different going fwd. A little experiment. I actually have every chapter so far translated, but they are all a little rough. I figured there are some of you that might not mind a rougher translation if you got to read ahead. So, I will be uploading the rough translations and then when I have time—going back to clean them all up.
The rough translations will be titled as such: TTMLPTWW ~ Chapter 20
And when it gets cleaned up will turn into: TTMLPTWW – Chapter 20
That way you can decide if you want to read the unpolished translation or wait until it’s polished.
💕💗 https://ko-fi.com/stanrofanscans💗💕

✨Wanna read more of my translations?✨
💖https://linktr.ee/stanrofanscans💖

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The Tragic Male Lead Picked the Wrong Wife

The Tragic Male Lead Picked the Wrong Wife

피폐물 남주가 상대를 잘못 고름
Score 10
Status: Ongoing Type: Author: Artist: Released: 2025 Native Language: Korean

I have no idea what novel this is, but I think I've possessed a scam bride in a rom-com.

Just in case this bride-con blows up, I already had a solid plan to win over the male lead and everyone around him.

"This is just a marriage of convenience, after all."

Ugh, predictable. Enough whining, you'll end up as my doormat anyway.

So, like any good female lead in a rom-com, I just went around showering everyone with endless good vibes and sunshine-like smiles… But why does the male lead look so tormented?

"I don't like you." I brushed off his coldness as classic denial phase behavior. He looked resigned, as if facing an insurmountable wall, but his ears were turning red. His mouth claims he doesn't like me, but his body says otherwise. "...I can't exactly imprison you, can I?" It seems like the male lead is starting to fall for me... But why does his obsession feel straight out of a toxic romance novel? I had no idea the original novel was an angsty-melodrama called 'Lethal Hazards.’ A-Anyway, it's a rom-com! An emotional healing story!

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