Chapter 1: The One-Week Teacher
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It was an industrial accident in the education field.
He had not been stabbed by the Demon King, killed by an assassin, or touched a cursed holy sword.
He died while tutoring a seventeen-year-old noble lady.
And only one week after being hired, at that.
The game community called that man this:
‘The One-Week Teacher.’
I laughed too.
Until yesterday.
"...Why did it have to be this bastard?"
The man in the mirror was not me.
Black hair. Gray eyes. A weary face. His clothes were too cheap for him to look like a noble, while his eyes were far too clear for him to look like a mercenary.
Leon Cart.
A private tutor of common birth.
And from this moment on, my name.
I had originally been Yoon Seungho.
A guy in South Korea who lived off cup noodles, stayed up all night playing games, and only ever resolved to fix his life at four in the morning.
And I was a seven-time clear veteran of Academy of the Golden Crown.
On the surface, that game was a romance fantasy RPG.
It was the story of a commoner heroine enrolling in the Imperial Academy and becoming entangled with the Crown Prince, a knight commander candidate, a genius of the Mage Tower, and a holy knight from the cathedral.
But in reality, it was different.
If you were short even one point of affection, a broken-engagement event would trigger.
If you picked up the wrong wineglass at a banquet, you would be framed for poisoning.
If you raised your swordsmanship proficiency one day too late, your arm would be cut off in the dueling arena.
The cathedral route was even worse. Get a single prayer dialogue choice wrong, and instead of becoming a saint, you would be branded a heretic.
I cleared that game seven times.
More precisely, I failed miserably six times and only saw the hidden ending on my seventh attempt.
That was why I knew.
The most dangerous thing in this world was not the Demon King.
It was a noble lady whose strategy guide you did not know.
A contract lay on the desk.
A red wax seal.
A lion biting down on a sword.
The crest of House Rosette.
I read the first line of the contract.
‘Leon Cart shall be responsible for the pre-admission education of Eveline Rosette, the eldest daughter of House Rosette, before her enrollment at the academy.’
Eveline Rosette.
The first villainess.
The Red Brat.
The one destined for a broken engagement.
The one destined for a duel accident.
The woman publicly executed in the late-game Northern Rebellion route.
And the reason Leon Cart was driven to his death in the original story.
I knew how to handle her.
More precisely, not how to handle her, but how to survive her.
Beginners die by praising her.
Intermediate players die by running away.
Experts die by pandering to her.
Eveline Rosette did not see people who bowed before her as human beings.
But trying to break her head-on was even more dangerous.
Break her pride, and she exploded.
You only had to break her sword.
I closed the contract.
"I can just not go."
Why walk into an event when you knew it would kill you?
At that moment, words appeared at the edge of my vision.
‘Refusing the first request will be considered a departure from the main scenario.’
‘Your projected survival time is reduced to three days.’
Seven days if I went.
Three if I did not.
It was remarkably educational of them to make even their threats numerical.
Then a new message appeared.
‘Hidden traits have been unlocked.’
[Combat Comprehension EX]
[Mana Circuit Analysis EX]
[Teaching Efficiency 500%]
[Villainess Route Interference Available]
I picked up the wooden sword beside the desk.
The instant it touched my hand, information flooded in.
Its center of gravity was weighted toward the front.
It could withstand three powerful strikes.
On the fourth, it would break.
Blocking head-on would force my wrist back, but deflecting to the right would open up a counterattack.
I stared down at the wooden sword.
"So the original Leon did not die because he was weak."
He died because he stepped on all the wrong choices.
And I knew every single one of those choices.
Knock, knock.
"Mr. Leon Cart. House Rosette’s carriage has arrived."
It was here.
The carriage here to pick me up for my funeral.
When I opened the door, a butler dressed in a black uniform stood there.
He bowed politely. But his eyes did not see me as a person.
A textbook to use for a few days before throwing away.
Or a teacup that would break today.
Something like that.
"Are you ready?"
"How many previous tutors were there?"
The butler’s smile stiffened.
"Officially, two."
"And unofficially?"
"If you survive long enough, I will tell you."
Good.
Even the butler in this household knew how to make a good trailer.
The carriage crossed the rain-soaked capital.
Magic lamps and noble estates passed by outside the window. It had been a beautiful city when viewed through a game screen.
Seeing it in person was different.
Commoners stepped aside by the roadside in the rain while noble carriages rolled slowly past them.
In this world, commoners were background scenery.
Scenery that got wet when nobles passed by, got beaten when nobles were angry, and died when nobles were bored.
And among that scenery, I was an extra destined to be torn away the fastest.
The estate of House Rosette was red.
The gates were red, the banners were red, and even the roses in the garden were red.
They said the crazier a household was, the more definite its color preferences were. It was not wrong.
The moment I entered the hallway, the original event text surfaced in my head.
‘Eveline Rosette Private Tutoring Event — Day One’
There were three failure conditions.
First: kneel.
Second: call her “my lady” and pander to her.
Third: block Eveline’s first sword strike head-on when she was enraged.
The original Leon did all three.
He had even been diligent about dying.
Crash!
Something shattered inside the drawing room.
The butler spoke as if nothing had happened.
"The young lady is waiting for you."
"That sounds less like waiting and more like preparing for battle."
"House Rosette’s waiting tends to be somewhat lively."
Nobles gave even madness elegant names.
The butler opened the door.
The drawing room was no longer a drawing room.
The teacups were dead, the vase was dead, and the decorative sword beside the fireplace was embedded in the wall.
But the most impressive thing was the wall.
Three frames hung there.
The first held a resignation letter written in quill pen.
‘I keenly realize my shortcomings as an educator and hereby resign.’
The second contained a bloodstained handkerchief, neatly folded.
The third frame was empty.
A small gold plaque was attached beneath it.
‘Space for the Next Teacher.’
I looked at the butler.
The butler smiled.
"The young lady values mementos."
What a load of crap.
Those were hunting trophies.
And in the middle of the room—
—sat a red-haired noble lady.
Eveline Rosette.
The first villainess.
She was beautiful.
The problem was that her beauty was not the kind that saved people. It was the kind that made them hesitate for a moment before killing them.
Her red eyes swept over me.
From head to toe.
They were the eyes of someone assessing a price.
"Are you the new commoner tutor?"
I did not answer.
Because I knew the dialogue choices that came after that line.
‘Yes, my lady.’
‘I may be lacking, but I will do my utmost.’
‘Please forgive my discourtesy.’
All three were wrong answers.
Eveline Rosette did not acknowledge those who bowed their heads as teachers.
She pointed to the floor with one finger.
"Kneel."
The maids held their breath.
The butler looked away.
I looked down at the floor.
It was an expensive carpet.
It looked perfect for kneeling on.
Which made me want to kneel on it even less.
"No."
Eveline raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"If I kneel there, I have a feeling my resignation letter will end up in that fourth frame."
Silence.
The temperature in the drawing room dropped.
The corner of Eveline’s lips slowly rose.
"Interesting."
She picked up a teaspoon from the table.
In the next moment, red mana coiled around it.
Whoosh!
The teaspoon flew like an arrow.
On my first playthrough of the original, Leon got hit by this and had his left ear torn open.
I tilted my head half an inch to the side.
The spoon brushed past my ear and embedded itself in the wall behind me.
One of the maids swallowed a small scream.
For the first time, Eveline’s eyes narrowed.
Good.
Now she saw me not as an object, but as an opponent.
A system window appeared.
‘Eveline Rosette’s ruin route has been activated.’
‘Current survival probability: 9%’
Low.
But this event’s default survival probability had originally been 0.8%.
It had risen a lot.
"I am Leon Cart."
I bowed politely.
Without kneeling.
"Starting today, I will be in charge of your private tutoring."
Eveline smiled.
"You think I’ll acknowledge you as my teacher?"
"No."
"Then what?"
I pointed at the empty frame on the wall.
"Instead of hanging my resignation letter there, I intend to hang your letter of reflection."
Red mana filled the drawing room.
Fragments of teacups rattled across the floor.
The butler quietly took a step back.
Eveline rose from her seat.
"Do you want to die?"
I looked at her right foot.
Her weight shifted onto it.
Her left shoulder opened.
Her first move would be a diagonal downward slash.
When angered, her mana lashed out before her sword did.
A pattern I had seen dozens of times across seven playthroughs.
I raised my wooden sword.
"No."
Then I smiled.
"I’m doing this because I want to live."
The system window flickered again.
‘Survival probability: 4%’
The number fell.
But for the first time, Eveline Rosette’s gaze was directed at me.
Not as something disposable.
Not as an enemy, either.
But as an opponent she had to break.
Inwardly, I recalled the first line of my strategy notes.
‘How to Handle Eveline Rosette.’
‘On the first meeting, provoke her pride, but never deny her talent.’
I spoke.
"My lady."
"What?"
"You’ve never learned swordsmanship, have you?"
At that moment, Eveline’s expression froze.
The entire drawing room froze over.
I lowered the tip of my wooden sword.
"You only learned how to swing a sword."
Eveline’s red eyes wavered.
It was the first time.
The first time someone had struck precisely at her secret.
I did not let that opening slip away.
"This is your first lesson."
I raised my wooden sword and pointed it at her.
"Today, you will begin by learning why you have never once won properly."
Eveline Rosette smiled.
It was a beautiful, arrogant, utterly broken smile.
"Fine."
Her decorative sword slowly slid from its sheath.
"Then you can die first."
And in that moment—
I became certain.
If I could not teach this villainess, I would die.
But if I could teach her—
—then the first ruin route in this world would break here, today.
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