The Villain Wants to Change Genres

Chapter 1

I was sick for days due to the heat that raged after falling into a winter lake. It was a high fever that made me feel like my entire body would melt away. Honestly, I was delirious, buried in a heat that wouldn’t have been strange if I died.

I might have crossed the threshold of death once. Instead of seeing my life flash before my eyes, I seemed to recall memories of my past life.

Thanks to that, I realized that I had been reincarnated as the villain in a novel I had read in my previous life.

It was an unusually vivid novel. When I read the first sentence, I felt as if the surrounding air had changed. It was just a simple sentence saying “The sky was clear,” but still.

The more I read, the clearer I could sense the scent of trees and flowers carried by the wind in that world, the appearance of clouds floating in the sky, and the chirping of birds. I could vividly imagine the faces of the characters, and even created minor habits for them that weren’t described in the novel.

Blinking.

‘No matter how you look at it, could the mansion scenery be exactly the same as what I imagined?’

Even the embossed patterns on the corridor pillars were exactly as I had imagined while reading the book. The paintings on the walls, vases, other miscellaneous decorations, the color and texture of the carpet. Everything was so identical that it seemed as if it had been created based on my imagination.

At this point, it feels like this shouldn’t be reality. Maybe I’m dreaming because I was so deeply impressed by the novel. Otherwise, it’s a phenomenon that’s hard to explain.

However, it was also too clearly real to be dismissed as a dream. I have distinct memories of living here since childhood until now. Just because I recalled memories of my past life doesn’t mean my past in this world disappears.

‘So it’s reality…’

A cold wind mixed with snowflakes swept through the empty corridor. My loosely fastened cloak fluttered, letting the cold wind seep in.

In the novel, I try to kill my two-year-older sister, who is the female protagonist, but fail and die. It was a scene where the female lead turns dark and kills me herself, delivering satisfying revenge.

You could say I reaped what I sowed. If I had lived quietly, that kind girl would have taken good care of her pitiful half-sibling.

‘How stupid.’

What was my past self so upset about? Desperately trying to get even a glance or touch from father. That’s why I couldn’t accept my sister who suddenly appeared one day. I thought she was monopolizing my father’s attention and affection, which had been difficult for me to obtain.

Looking back now, it was just a petty act of misplaced anger. My value doesn’t change whether I have siblings or not.

The fortunate thing is that thanks to recalling my past life memories, my feelings towards my father and half-sister, the female lead, have all become blurred. The problem is that my sense of reality has also diminished.

It feels like I’m living someone else’s life instead of my own. With two personalities mixing, it’s become difficult to define who I am. Right now, it seems the personality from my past life has a stronger influence.

Is it because I lived longer in that world? Or is it because I recalled memories from that world right up until I woke up?

‘Well, it doesn’t matter.’

Either way, I’m alone in both cases, so there’s no need to distinguish between them. This might even be better. At least I won’t rush in like a moth to a flame, blinded by jealousy like an idiot.

‘Since I’ve been born as the son of a duke’s family anyway, wouldn’t it be nice to live while enjoying all the privileges?’

Let’s just go with the flow. Let Irene, my sister, become the successor, fall in love with the second prince, and be loved. I’m just an extra villain anyway, so I don’t think anything will change even if I behave. I should just live like I’m dead.

As I was walking and pondering the direction of my life, I suddenly stopped.

‘Then, does Luwen die again?’

Luwen, the sub-male lead in the novel. He was a character who hid his feelings for the sake of his beloved Irene and ultimately sacrificed his life wishing for her happiness.

My past self found Luwen’s love astonishing. How could he live with all his might, with an upright heart and without a hint of wavering, knowing he wouldn’t be rewarded?

Maybe that’s why. I cheered for Irene’s life as the protagonist while admiring Luwen. Despite not being real people, the two of them became a special meaning in my dry life.

Among them, Luwen was particularly painful. Although I liked both of them, unlike Irene who eventually becomes happy, Luwen’s ending was bitter, so it’s natural that I cared more about him.

No matter how realistic it felt, it was still ultimately a fictional story, and it was strange and amazing that I could like it enough to shake my daily life. It would be embarrassing if others found out, but I was a bit touched to realize that I could like people from a fictional world.

So I tried reading other novels afterward, but didn’t feel much. I read so many novels wondering if there might be something that would give me a similar feeling. But Irene and Luwen were unique.

“No, wait a little. I’ll talk to Fei.”

The voice coming from around the corner of the corridor brought me back to reality from my thoughts.

“That person won’t do as the young lady wishes. I’ll just go to the Duke and tell him the truth.”

“You know what will happen if you do that. You won’t be safe. And it’s not ‘that person,’ you should address him properly as ‘young master.'”

“But he’s a bad person who always bullies the young lady! He’ll surely find fault and put you in a difficult situation. I don’t want to be a burden…”

“A burden? That’s not true.”

It was Irene and Luwen.

Unlike before, a feeling of joy subtly rose. Seeing that I’m glad to see these two, it seems the self from my past life is indeed stronger.

This might be better, actually.

“Fei?”

Irene, who came around the corner, discovered me. A faint mole was visible on her left cheek. It wasn’t a significant feature, so it wasn’t described in the novel, but strangely, it was something I had imagined, and now it was there on the real her.

‘This feels weird.’

A small Luwen peeked out from behind Irene’s skirt. The moment I met his gaze, full of wariness and glaring at me, my chest suddenly tightened and stung.

‘What? Why is this happening?’

I felt breathless with pain, as if someone was gripping and squeezing my heart.

“Fei! Are you alright?”

Irene rushed over and grabbed me. It was hard to breathe. I don’t know why this is happening. My chest just hurt so much. Tears rolled down my cheeks without me wanting them to.

Startled, I quickly covered my face with my hands and turned away.

‘How embarrassing, why am I suddenly crying like this.’

The unexpected situation that came without any warning was so perplexing that my mind wasn’t working well. I had only used tears as a tool to escape awkward situations before, but this was the first time I had really cried in front of others since I was little.

“Are you not fully recovered yet? You seem to have a fever too. Let’s go to your room quickly. I’ll take you there.”

It was a kind voice full of concern. Irene led me as I staggered.

‘Is it because of Luwen?’

It was a reasonable interpretation since the pain rushed in right after I made eye contact with Luwen. But I didn’t know the emotion would still be so intense. It was even more confusing because I didn’t have memories of Luwen as a child in my mind.

To check, I wiped away the traces of tears with the back of my hand and turned my gaze. Small hands and feet appeared and disappeared repeatedly from behind Irene’s skirt.

Luwen is twelve years old now, isn’t he?

‘He’s so small.’

Is this tiny kid going to grow up to be such a big and gruff man later? It felt strange, as if I had glimpsed Luwen’s secret.

But that’s all. There was no intense pain like being swept away by waves as before. Maybe it was just a coincidence that the situation overlapped because I wasn’t feeling well.

After reaching this conclusion, I turned my gaze and noticed Irene’s hand firmly supporting me with one arm. Her white and delicate hand looked frail but was full of strength. As a sword prodigy who inherited her father’s talent, she must have considerable grip strength.

‘In Irene’s eyes, I must have looked like a day-old puppy barking at a tiger.’

It was clear that she had been holding back because of the big difference in strength. Because I’m her brother.

Irene, having lost her mother early and living alone, longed for family. So even though I was an annoying brother who kept bothering her, she still liked me quite a bit because I was family connected by blood. She turned a blind eye to my misdeeds, hoping that I would eventually accept her.

The me in the original story, who tried to kill such an Irene, was no different from repaying kindness with enmity.

‘I don’t particularly want to die, so it would be better to improve my relationship with Irene.’

The problem is Luwen. A tragic character who looks at only one person with an unwavering heart like a pine tree and then dies. If left alone, it’s obvious that things will flow according to the original story. He’ll love Irene and continue his unrequited love until he dies.

‘Ah, my heart hurts again.’

My chest ached. It was similar to how I felt right after reading about Luwen’s death.

In fact, I was uncharacteristically distressed for a long time back then. Just seeing the name ‘Luwen’ made my chest hurt so much that I couldn’t pick up the book for a while after he died. Even though I tried to reason with myself that he wasn’t a real person, I kept feeling upset and tears would come, so I ended up hiding the book away.

Eventually, I wanted to at least watch Irene, whom Luwen loved, become happy, so I opened the book again. But strangely, the story after Luwen’s death didn’t feel as vivid as before. I couldn’t feel anything. Suddenly, the sense of reality had disappeared.

The sentences hadn’t changed, but it suddenly turned into an ordinary novel. Perhaps it was because my interest had waned after my favorite character died.

The letters didn’t register well in my eyes, and whenever I had a chance, I kept thinking, ‘What if Luwen hadn’t loved Irene?’ So in a way, it was a natural result.

‘…Huh? Wait. Isn’t it possible now?’