Chapter 1
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I found myself trapped.
In the top-tier environment of another world.
After being reincarnated in this new world as the son of a baron, I ended up in a ridiculously luxurious room that I never dared to dream of.
The interior was extravagantly decorated, with a super plush bed and a fancy terrace design.
Me, a baron’s son, suddenly getting this room after gaining some recognition by writing a novel in this world?
All I did was write a story about a hero who gets betrayed by his party members after defeating the Demon King, and then completely cuts ties with the heroines who secretly liked him, while hanging out with the sub-heroines, leading to the party members’ regrets, despair, and obsession.
That story was called ‘The Betrayed Hero Does Not Return’.
The citizens of this world, high on dopamine, kept clamoring for more of this cliche-ridden, generic tale.
Just to be clear, I didn’t think badly of these readers, but they were literally throwing fireballs and swinging swords around in a fit of rage over my writing.
“Check Writer has supposedly finished the entire series and is hiding it away!”
“Check Writer, release the next volume!”
“If the next volume isn’t out, I’ll crap my pants!”
I had no clue who leaked that I was hoarding completed manuscripts, but it felt like a disaster waiting to happen.
But since I planned to do nothing but relax after finishing the series, I eventually published the last volume, only to run into trouble.
[This is Check Writer’s last novel, ‘The Betrayed Hero Does Not Return’. From now on, I will return to being just another reader like all of you, hoping that literature continues to develop further.]
That was the author’s message at the very end of the last volume.
I wrote that I was done with writing and would just be a couch potato, but that caused quite a stir.
“What the hell! You’re still young, and you won’t write anymore?”
“That’s not the author’s right—”
“What did you just say? Catch this heretic!”
“I can’t be satisfied with anything that’s not a Check Writer book!”
“Check Writer, you must release the next work to follow the footsteps of the Betrayer Hero!”
The readers were relentless in their demands for more.
If it were just the common folk, those higher-ups would have put a stop to it…
“Our Seven Towers would spare no magical support for Check Writer’s next work.”
“Our Alchemy Association will provide unlimited potions good for the wrist health of Check Writer for his next work.”
“As the Duke of the North, I vow to provide unlimited support to Check Writer.”
“His Majesty the Emperor has sent a message! ‘As the Emperor of the Nias Empire, Nid G Nias promises to unlock titles, money, and the imperial treasury for Check Writer’s next work!’ he said!”
“…What the actual heck.”
It seemed like all the high-ranking folks—Seven Towers, the Alchemy Association, the Duke of the North, and the Imperial Family—were asking me to write the next work.
But I had already earned enough money, and I had started writing with the mindset that I simply wanted to live comfortably, so I had nothing I truly desired.
I mean, with this amount of fortune, how could I live uncomfortably?
House? I was sitting on piles of gold coins.
Food? Piles of gold coins.
Potions? Piles of gold coins.
A lover? I’m a classic “love when it happens” guy.
Since I didn’t need anything more, I kept refusing.
Just when I thought everyone would finally understand, the Emperor pulled out his ultimate move.
“Effective immediately, I declare Check Writer, the author of ‘The Betrayed Hero Does Not Return’, as the fiancé of the Second Princess, Eve Nias!”
He just went ahead and betrothed me to a princess.
Honestly, the engagement was just a facade; the real intention was to keep me locked up in the Imperial Palace.
On the surface, it looked like they were treating me politely, but just the fact that they placed me in a fancy room with a pen and paper made their true motives clear.
Aren’t you engaged to a princess now? Still not writing?
We gave you our daughter, you know? For real?
Write already.
“Haah…”
Seeing that I might actually lose my head if I didn’t write while trapped, I ultimately had no choice but to pick up the pen with a sigh.
“…You’re not going to give me military dumplings or something, right?”
Oh man. I miss my parents.
They must be super worried about me.
***
“Baron Hypno, if you keep acting that way, we might have to get rough with you.”
“Guh…”
“Do you not care what happens to your son?”
“But…”
At the mansion of Baron Hypno.
It was supposed to be a time for tea with my wife, but suddenly a hefty guest arrived, turning our tea time into a meeting with high-ranking folks.
Despite being close to 60, this guy had a body packed with rock-hard muscles.
His fierce golden eyes were like those of a lion.
And he had a full head of luscious blonde hair.
“Your Majesty, this is a bit…”
The one and only sun of the Nias Empire, Nid G Nias, had come to visit his mansion.
“Baron Hypno, you know that I’m not someone who hands out titles to riff-raff.”
“But, Your Majesty, this title is too much for someone as lowly as me.”
The Emperor pressed him with a luxurious piece of parchment.
[In recognition of the merits of Baron Hypno’s son, Zech Hypno…]
It was unnecessarily long-winded, but in short, it was saying:
They were promoting Baron Hypno to a Marquis.
The Baron thought this was completely absurd and kept refusing, yet the Emperor was relentless in his insistence to elevate him to a Marquis.
“Why is becoming a Marquis so distasteful? Pressure from other nobles? Many, including myself, would intervene with just a finger. Management of the territory? Huge grants will come in, and it’ll be easy to hire administrators. Threats to your family? I guarantee it. If anyone can threaten you beyond the Duke of the North, I’ll personally take care of it.”
The Emperor couldn’t wrap his head around the Baron’s attitude.
Typically, most nobles would jump at the chance to rise in rank and gain opportunities, but this fellow kept rejecting all the support offered.
Did Check Writer inherit this stubbornness from his dad?
As the Emperor tapped his fingers on the armrest, the Baron, with a resolute gaze, asked.
“Your Majesty, if this isn’t too forward, may I speak candidly?”
“!! Of course!”
If he could express his reasoning honestly, the Emperor was confident he could resolve it, so he listened with eagerness.
Then the Baron finally spoke, revealing why he didn’t want the title of Marquis.
“I just want to live quietly with my wife.”
“…What?”
The Emperor, thinking he must’ve misheard, blinked hard, as the Baron wiped cold sweat from his brow and reiterated.
“If I become a Marquis, my mansion will get bigger, my territory will expand, and there will be more money and servants. But I… I just want to live quietly with my wife. I was most worried about my son, Zech Hypno, but now that I see he’s doing well, I don’t have to worry anymore.”
“So… you mean you want to live peacefully together with your wife? Like a cozy old couple waiting for their grandchildren to visit?”
“Yes!”
Finally, he understood!
When the Baron beamed and confirmed, the Emperor clenched his fist.
“From now on, you are a Marquis! I’ll grant you all the money, territory, and mansion you desire, so get out to that cozy spot and live! I’ll make sure it’s prime land! Just take the title and shove off!”
And thus, Baron Hypno became Marquis.
“Dear, how’s our Zech doing?”
“Honestly, I think he’s doing well on his own, right? Our son’s writing skills are really impressive.”
“Right? I was worried he might be kidnapped by the Imperial Family, but seeing the Emperor personally visit and promote him makes it seem like he’s managing just fine.”
“Sure. Oh dear, should we get a dog? With this new territory we received, walking a dog would be really nice.”
“Great idea!”
***
“What on earth was the problem?”
I’d been trapped in the guest room of the Imperial Palace for two hours now.
Lying on the super cozy bed and staring at the ceiling, my mind was racing.
What went wrong?
Was it because I slightly altered my pen name from Zech to Check?
Was it because it took years to publish a book but I released it weekly in this world?
Did I push for extended writing occasionally when I felt inspired?
Or was the theme of my story ultimately the issue?
I have no idea.
“…This is a real mess.”
Being trapped aside, now the question was:
‘What should I even write about?’
I couldn’t even decide on a theme.
“…Let’s just stick to writing about that same old theme…”
If I keep churning out the same story, eventually people may lose interest and think, “Why did they engage him to the princess?”
“…Hehehe.”
Alright, let’s shove this classic theme into my veins until we reach critical mass.
I’ll show the terror of a trapped author.
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