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I was reincarnated as the son of the strongest duke

Asheville_to
When I opened my eyes for the first time in this hell, I thought I was trapped in a nightmare… but no, nightmares aren’t presented with this level of detail. The sky was gray, like a worn strip of ash made from wandering souls. The air was heavy, as if the world breathed blood instead of oxygen. And most importantly… I am not on Earth. I am Nier Verton. The son of the Duke of Shadows. The Verton family—the house whose name people whisper before they sleep, feared even by those who do not understand the meaning of fear. Ah, Nier Verton… the calm, noble, perfect young man who is supposed to become the center of this ridiculous story. But what story, exactly? A romance novel. Yes, a romance. A story written with roses, innocent glances, and looks that stretch across entire pages—where the heroine, “Ayla,” falls in love with me after three sentences and ten chapters of exchanged smiles. Did I mention that I despise this kind of story? I can’t stand it. I don’t believe in love made of sugar, nor in tears polished with golden light. What is expected of me? To be the heroine’s lover? To melt her heart with a smile and a rose? To hold her while towers collapse and tell her that the world will be fine? No. To hell with that. This world is tilting toward ruin, and I am no savior. I am merely an intruder in the body of a terrifying family’s heir, living within the threads of a story I did not write—and will not perform the way they intended. I am not Nier Verton. But since everyone believes that I am… Let’s see how far I can twist your happy ending.
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Surviving A Novel I Don't Remember: A Tutor's Guide To Staying Alive

"If I can just stay under the radar, I might survive the final chapter." Kim Jowoon woke up in a novel world as the illegitimate fourth son of a marquis, Julian Von Astrea, and it looked like every single character hated him. It was a world where everyone looked like a protagonist—shining eyes, tragic backstories, destiny practically dripping off them. Everyone except him. He didn't even get a script. Then the Affection System popped up and crushed his hopes in one clean line of text: every so-called “hero” in the capital had a solid 0% interest in his continued existence. Naturally, Julian did the most reasonable thing possible—he ran. Straight into the safest job he could think of: tutoring the young son of the Empire's most reclusive (and famously cold) Duke. The plan was foolproof. Win over the kid, stay invisible, collect a fat paycheck, and live long enough to die of old age instead of plot relevance. It didn't go smoothly at first. The child barely spoke, the Duke barely appeared, and Julian briefly wondered if he'd chosen the wrong kind of death. But somehow… it worked. The Duke's son slowly warmed up to him. Lessons became warm conversations, and silence turned into trust. And even stranger, the Duke's affection level didn't just rise—it skyrocketed into something Julian absolutely had not planned for. For the first time since transmigrating, he felt safe. Then the Empire started falling apart. A masked criminal began tearing through the capital, and Julian started waking up with missing memories and an unsettling sense of déjà vu. No wounds. No explanations. Just the feeling that something had happened—and that he was better off not remembering it. He had thought he was the one being hunted. But the higher the Duke's affection climbed, the more frequent the blackouts became, and the more a terrifying possibility took shape. He came here to survive the story. Now, he was starting to suspect the Duke wasn't protecting him from the plot at all… He was protecting the plot from him.
Byul_Byre · 77.6k Views