Chapter 2
âYou! Youâre the one with the red ink!â
âWhy are you suddenly accusing me?!â
âYour eyes wavered the moment he mentioned the red ink! I saw it with my own eyes!â
âDo you have proof?! I said, do you have any proof?!â
I watched the people around me descend into confusion.
There was no such thing as a Mafia game in this world.
And on top of that, this was a Mafia game being played as part of a job recruitment process.
Naturally, everyone was on edge.
âLetâs settle this by majority vote. Those who think this person has red ink, raise your hands.â
âJust try framing me as the culprit! The moment I leave this place, Iâll kill every last one of you!â
ââŠI think an anonymous vote would be better. Why donât we ask the proctors for some paper and pens?â
Before long, the rules of a traditional Mafia game had naturally begun to take shape.
That was actually a rather amusing development, butâŠ
This really doesnât look like a place where theyâre hiring maids, does it?
Still, I couldnât exactly say, âOh! I came here to become a maid!â and simply leave.
The atmosphere around me was becoming increasingly hostile.
Honestly, I doubt anyone would believe me even if I told the truth. Theyâd probably grab me by the collar and demand to know what kind of scheme I was trying to pull.
Iâd always been somewhat introverted, and after one failure after another, my MBTIâs I had practically turned into a capital letter carved in stone.
This was not an easy situation for someone like me.
Oh, well.
Letâs act suspicious and get myself eliminated naturally.
And the suspicious behavior I chose was silence.
My plan was to wait until someone asked, âYouâre awfully quiet. Are you the Mafia?!â Then Iâd stammer, âUh⊠umâŠâ and get voted out.
There was just one thing Iâd overlooked.
Koreans practically trained for Mafia games from elementary school onward.
Once the game began, I found myself identifying the Mafia members out of habit.
Something had gone wrong.
âThat man⊠really had a red mark?â
âWasnât he completely on our side? We even identified someone with a red mark together in the previous round.â
Everyoneâs eyes darted around the room.
The first person they looked at was the man they had just mentioned.
He had the air of a battle-hardened mercenary, and when theyâd ordered everyone to put down their weapons earlier, he had surrendered no fewer than three swords.
And the second person they looked at wasâŠ
âHow did that woman figure it out?â
Under the barrage of stares, I rubbed my face.
How did I figure it out?
Every time he gets attacked, he shifts the blame onto someone else. Thatâs textbook Mafia behavior.
Of course, there was no way the others could have known that.
Instead, they looked at me with eyes full of admiration.
The three-sword man gave me a bitter smile.
âIâve lost.â
His words signaled the end of the long, drawn-out game.
Exclamations rang out from all directions, followed by applause.
And in the middle of it all, I stood frozen.
This isnât how it was supposed to go.
I had genuinely wanted to withdraw halfway through. But the game was so frustrating that I couldnât just sit there and say nothing.
The problem was that it simply wouldnât end.
At this rate, weâd still be here at dawn, so I finally forced myself to speak.
âI think that person looks suspiciousâŠâ
Anyone who has played Mafia games often enough would understand.
Suddenly pointing at someone after remaining quiet the entire time is incredibly suspicious behavior.
But contrary to my expectations, the people with blue ink agreed with me.
And so, the Mafia members were identified. My words began to carry weight, and eventuallyâŠ
âItâs rather surprising. All eight people with blue ink have survived.â
The manager spoke with a look of astonishment.
âI never expected so many of you to passâŠâ
âI-Iâll withdraw!â
The person who hurriedly shouted those words was, of course, me.
But the othersâ reactions wereâŠ
âWhat are you talking about?! You canât leave! We won because of you!â
âCould it be⊠youâre doing this for our sake?â
âIâm the one who contributed absolutely nothing. I should be the one to leave!â
As I watched the blue-ink applicants rally to my side, I sank into despair.
Damn this stupid sense of loyalty!
âI suppose we have no choice. It may take some time, but weâll proceed with the individual interviews as planned. Those who have failed may leave.â
At that, the Mafia members collected their weapons and began filing out one by one.
The last Mafia member, the three-sword man, passed by me and patted me on the shoulder.
âDonât give up, if only for my sake. See this through to the end.â
Me?
I donât even know what this place is supposed to be!
âWith skills like yours, you could go anywhere⊠but if you ask me, this place is a perfect fit for you.â
I came here because I couldnât go anywhere else.
That perverted sexual harasser ruined all my chances of getting another job, and this is the only place that even offered me an interview.
âŠShould I just work here after all?
It was true that I had unexpectedly been the most impressive player in the Mafia game.
When else would someone like me rank among the very best at anything? Right?
All right. Iâll try to figure out what kind of organization this is by talking to them.
The questions they asked and the interviewersâ attitudes should provide some clues.
With renewed determination, I followed the manager.
And when I arrived at the interview roomâŠ
âWhat? Itâs a woman?â
I stopped in my tracks when I saw a silver-haired man sitting in the middle of the room.
It was an extraordinarily rare shade of hair in this world. His was so white it almost seemed to glow.
His skin was pale enough to make him look sickly, but when my gaze traveled lower, I noticed his broad, muscular shoulders.
Finally, I saw his golden eyes.
And then I froze.
This man couldnât possibly beâŠ
Could he?
âStart by introducing yourself.â
I sat down opposite him and opened my mouth.
âHello. My name is Hiel Kevernon, and as you can see, Iâm an utterly ordinary person. I only happened to come here by a complete coincidence, and I only happened to stay here by another complete coincidence, so Iâm really sorry, but would it be all right if I just went homeââ
âCould you breathe while you talk?â
His voice was relatively gentle, but I couldnât shake my gloomy feeling.
This manâs name was Rashak Barsen.
He was the male protagonist of the original novel I had possessed a character in.
And he was the man who controlled the capitalâs underworld.
It might be a little late to mention this, but the original novel in this world was a dark, regret-filled romance.
Its title was Holding the Leash of Your Arrogance.
The male lead was forced by his father to marry the heroine. He treated her with contempt, only to regret everything and beg for forgiveness after she became pregnant and ran away.
It was a familiar trope, but a delicious one.
His personality was equally typical.
Just as the title suggested, he was arrogant and cold. He fundamentally distrusted other people and would simply kill anyone who irritated him.
And now, that very man was my interviewer.
This was a recruitment drive for his subordinates.
And the Mafia game had literally been a game to recruit members for the Mafia!
As someone who had lived my entire life as the most ordinary, inconspicuous person imaginable, this situation was more than I could handle.
Sure, he was the male lead, but he was also a member of the underworld.
Even if the original story hadnât begun yet, what good could possibly come from crossing paths with him?
And look at his expression. He looks absolutely terrifying.
I had no idea what was written on the paper in his hands, but his gaze was so fierce that it seemed capable of piercing straight through it.
Even the way he sat was so dissolute that if someone placed a cigar between his fingers, they could shoot an entire Mafia movie on the spotâŠ
âSo, you came all this way without knowing what kind of organization we are?â
I nodded enthusiastically, practically petrified with fear.
âAnd you passed the test purely by coincidence?â
I shook my head just as enthusiastically.
âBut you were too frightened by the atmosphere to say anything until now?â
And I nodded enthusiastically againâŠ
âDid you bite your tongue or something? Why arenât you answering?â
âN-No, sir.â
âEverything youâve told me so far is true, isnât it?â
âH-How could I dare tell a lie in the presence of someone as exalted as yourself?â
âWhy are you suddenly talking like that? This isnât a play.â
I almost wished it were a play.
I had no idea how many times Iâd denied reality in the short time since entering this room.
I could feel every passing second with excruciating clarity.
One second. Two secondsâŠ
And when about fifty-six seconds had passedâŠ
âYou can go.â
âR-Really?â
âYes.â
I jumped to my feet and bowed.
âThank you! Iâll be sure to live an honest life from now on!â
The male lead let out a small, incredulous laugh, as though wondering whether that was really something I should be saying to him.
Whatever.
I hurried toward the exit.
The problem was that there were far too many obstacles along the way.
The place I was in was an abandoned building.
Perhaps that was why, even though it was the bossâs interview room, discarded furniture and construction materials were scattered all over the place.
When Iâd entered, Iâd been so shocked by the male leadâs presence that I hadnât paid any attention to my surroundings.
Now, with the very man in question watching me, I was trying to leave as quickly as possible.
As a result, I couldn’t seem to walk three steps without bumping into something.
I even slammed my thigh into the corner of a table.
âOw!â
Then my foot caught on the leg of a chair lying on the floor.
âUgh!â
Trying to steady myself, I reached out and grabbed the wall.
But for some reason, the large wooden board leaning against it let out a creaking sound and toppled sideways.
âUhâŠ?â
And beyond it, in the empty space behind the boardâŠ
There was a person.
And that person was holding an extremely sharp dagger.
âLook out!â
At the male leadâs sharp shout, the dagger came hurtling toward me.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion.
âŠNow that I think about it, I actually received knight training when I was young.
Perhaps because I had died of an illness in my previous life, I had been blessed with an unusually healthy body in this one.
My body reacted instinctively, and I twisted away from the assassinâs blade.
âYouâ!â
The reason someone with reflexes as excellent as mine had still failed to become a knight, even after undergoing all that training, wasâŠ
I became so nervous whenever people were watching that I couldn’t perform to the best of my abilities.
As a result, I had lost sparring match after sparring match.
But in an unexpected crisis like this one, I had no time to worry about other peopleâs eyes.
Without even realizing what I was doing, I drove my fist into the stomach of the assassin charging toward me.
And when the assassin collapsed, I was so startled that a curse slipped out of my mouth.
Thud!
âOh my fâ!â
The dagger clattered to the floor with a clear metallic ring.
The assassin appeared to have lost consciousness on the spot.
I turned around.
âThen⊠Iâll be taking my leave now?â
The male lead didnât answer.
So they say that success is seven-tenths luck and three-tenths skill.
As I squeezed my eyes shut, I couldn’t help thinking that my luck in this life was just as terrible as it had been in my previous one.






