Adrian Thorne had always been admired by people.
On campus, strangers slowed their steps just to look at him. In cafés, whispers followed wherever he sat. Online, his photos spread without his permission, passed from account to account with captions like "too beautiful to be real." His skin was aspale as porcelain, his eyes long and slightly upturned, and his lips soft and naturally red. Even the way he brushed his hair back looked like a scene from a movie.
But admiration was as far as it ever went.
No one confessed.
No one approached him seriously.
No one dared.
They liked him from a distance, as if he were a painting behind glass, untouchable and unreal.
Adrian had grown used to walking alone.
That day, the sky was overcast. He had just finished buying groceries when he felt someone staring. The sensation was familiar—heavy, obsessive—but before he could turn fully, a sharp pain exploded in his abdomen.
A scream echoed.
Warm blood soaked through his shirt.
In front of him stood a thin man with wild eyes and trembling hands, clutching a knife.
"If I can't have you," the man whispered hysterically, "no one can."
Adrian collapsed onto the cold pavement. Sounds blurred; the world dimmed. His last thought was strangely calm:
So this is how it ends.
---
When he opened his eyes again, he was not in a hospital.
Adrian woke on a large wooden bed carved with intricate patterns. Silk curtains hung around him, and the air smelled faintly of sandalwood.
He blinked slowly.
The ceiling was unfamiliar—arched and painted with golden vines and blooming roses. Before he could sit up, a group of men rushed toward him.
"Young Master! You're awake!"
"Quick, call the physician!"
Adrian froze.
Every single person in the room… was male.
And not just male—they were handsome, tall, and broad-shouldered, dressed in flowing robes that looked like something from a historical drama.
He instinctively touched his stomach.
No wound.
No blood.
Instead, beneath his loose robe, his fingers brushed over smooth skin—and then something slightly raised on his left chest.
Frowning, he pulled open his collar. There, blooming over his heart, was a vivid, rose-shaped birthmark.
Deep red.
Intricate.
Almost alive.
A gasp sounded beside him.
"He truly has it…"
"The rose mark… just like the prophecy."
Adrian looked up sharply. "What is this place?"
The men exchanged glances before one of them—who seemed older and calmer—stepped forward.
"Young Master, you are in the Houming Kingdom."
"…A kingdom?"
"Yes." The man hesitated before continuing carefully. "In this world, there are no women. Only men."
Adrian stared at him.
The man continued, "However, among men, there are three types: ordinary men, brothers who can give birth but with low fertility… and those blessed by the Rose."
His fingers unconsciously touched the mark on Adrian's chest.
"Those who bear the rose birthmark can conceive and give birth with high fertility."
Silence crashed down like thunder.
Adrian's expression remained calm, but inside, his thoughts shattered.
Men… can give birth?
"As a Rose-Bearer," the man went on respectfully, "you are considered a national treasure. Rare. Precious."
"How rare?" Adrian asked quietly.
"In this entire kingdom," the man replied, lowering his head, "there are only twelve."
Adrian: "…."
His gaze drifted down to the rose on his chest.
The man continued, his voice steady but serious. "According to national law, every Rose-Bearer must choose atleast three husbands before the age of eighteen."
Adrian's head snapped up. "Three?"
"Yes. To ensure the continuation of our people."
"And if I refuse?"
The room fell silent again.
The older man sighed. "If a Rose-Bearer refuses to choose willingly, the state will assign thirty men."
"…Thirty?" Adrian repeated slowly.
"Yes."
Adrian leaned back against the pillows.
He had just died.
Now he was in another world.
A world with no women.
A world where he—because of a rose-shaped mark—was required to marry three men.
Or thirty.
He closed his eyes briefly.
Is this some kind of cosmic joke?
When he opened them again, his expression had returned to its usual cool indifference.
"When is the deadline?"
"In three months."
Adrian nodded once. "Then I'll choose."
The room erupted into relieved murmurs.
But Adrian's mind was already racing.
Three husbands…
In his previous life, no one had dared approach him seriously. He was admired but isolated. Now, in this world, he was being forced into the center of attention again—only this time, legally bound to it.
He let out a soft, humorless laugh.
"Bring me information," he said calmly. "All eligible candidates. Backgrounds. Personalities. Political ties."
The men blinked.
"Young Master?"
"If I have to choose three," Adrian said, his eyes sharp and cold, "I won't choose blindly."
---
News spread like wildfire.
"The new Rose-Bearer has awakened!"
"He's unbelievably beautiful!"
"They say his rose mark is the deepest red in decades!"
Within days, noble families, military generals, wealthy merchants, and scholars all began positioning themselves.
Invitations flooded in.
Portraits were sent.
Even poems.
Adrian stood by the window of his new residence—an estate granted to him by royal decree—and watched the bustling courtyard below.
So many men.
All vying.
All eager.
All hoping to become one of his three.
For the first time in both lives, people were not just admiring him from afar.
They were stepping forward.
Competing.
Determined.
A faint, unreadable smile curved his lips.
"In my previous life," he murmured softly, "no one dared."
He turned away from the window, long sleeves flowing behind him.
"In this one… let's see who is worthy."
Far beyond the estate gates, unseen by him, a tall figure in black armor stood atop a distant tower.
Sharp eyes. A scar across his brow. A presence like a drawn blade.
"The Rose-Bearer has awakened," his subordinate said.
The armored man's gaze remained fixed on the estate.
"I know."
"Will you participate in the selection, General?"
A long pause.
His voice was low and resolute.
"I will not be one of three."
The subordinate stiffened. "Then—?"
"I will be the only one."
And thus, under the blooming red mark of fate, Adrian's new life began.