How could a person be so ill-fitting? At this point, it’s a talent how everything he wears looks cheap. He’s so unappealing that I feel the saying ‘clothes make the man’ simply doesn’t apply to him. It seems even the finest clothes are inadequate to elevate Louis. Otherwise, how could he look so awful wearing something so expensive?

Anyway, it’s nauseating.

To put it simply, Louis’s physical appearance fell far below average. Skinny, weak limbs contrasted with his protruding belly. Eyes that you couldn’t tell whether they were open or closed. Skin reminiscent of volcanic ash I’d seen once, and dry, lifeless hair…

Objectively speaking, Louis possessed not even a speck of outward charm or appeal.

He was truly ugly—that’s what I mean.

It’s absurd how creatures around here sing praises about Louis’s good looks.

I wonder if they properly wash their eyes. How could anyone call that face handsome?

My past self must have had an incredibly strong stomach. It’s remarkable how I begged for love from such a man throughout so many regressions.

Why did I act like that back then?

Now that I’m free from the things that bound me and can do as I please, it’s hard to understand my former self.

“What are you spacing out for when you barely have time to finish writing?”

I wasn’t spacing out, just measuring exactly how much you’re worth.

“Oh, look at me. I’m sorry.”

“Mia, the deadline is right around the corner. Readers are desperate to see your writing.”

Does he have no conscience whatsoever?

I wondered how someone could be so brazenly shameless.

How selfish must one be to spout such nonsense without hesitation?

In any case, this manuscript I’m working on now would be published under Louis’s name once completed.

And all the profits would go straight to him.

I’d only receive a single copy with a changed cover.

It was such a predictable story.

“Write quickly. You need to finish within a week. Actually, you only have two days left.”

In the past, I’d meekly accepted these unreasonable demands.

Throughout countless regressions, these things had never changed.

Despite knowing how unfair it was, I never refused.

Rather, I accepted it as normal.

Thanks to that, he always maintained his reputation and accumulated enormous wealth through me.

If I did the same this time, the outcome would be no different from before.

“Yes, I’ll try to meet the deadline.”

I never wanted to repeat the same mistake again. To do that, I needed money.
Even if I managed to escape his shadow immediately, it would mean nothing if I had no money to my name.

For that reason, I began searching for a way to save up funds.

What should I do?

No matter how long I thought about it, finding an answer was difficult. Realistically, there was no way for me to leave this estate. Wherever I went, I needed Louis’s permission—and even if I were lucky enough to go out, avoiding his surveillance was practically impossible.

This estate was already firmly in his grasp.

So it was better not to harbor any hope that someone might help me. For a long time now, everyone belonging to this estate had been watching me. Every trivial thing, every minute detail, was reported to Louis.

In a place no different from a birdcage, how could I possibly escape by my own power alone?

In novels, protagonists who travel back in time start fashion businesses, or buy land that’s about to be developed. If not that, they disguise themselves as men and join a knightly order. Those were surefire ways to gain immense wealth and fame at the same time.

But things like that were utterly unrealistic for me.

Although the present me existed thanks to countless regressions, the downside was that just as many memories were left tangled together. I had once learned swordsmanship in an effort to stand on equal footing with men, but that had been so long ago that I was now clumsy even holding a blade lightly.

More than anything, with renowned swordsmen filling the empire, it was virtually impossible for someone as lacking as me to become a knight.

On top of that, in none of my past lives had I ever once left this estate. Naturally, all ties with the outside world had been severed. All I ever did was remain locked in a solitary room, writing.

How could someone like that possibly understand how the world worked? The only “world” I knew was the one etched in black letters onto paper—books.

“Mia, what are you doing right now? Aren’t you going to write?”

Louis snapped at me for letting my thoughts wander for even a moment. The way he bared his veins and snarled was utterly ridiculous.

“You should write even a single character faster and finish it. At this rate, when do you think the book will ever be published?”

If you’re so great, then write it yourself. Don’t force me to do it.

“You were just too handsome, I lost myself for a moment. Please be generous and forgive me.”

I smiled sweetly. Inside, a flood of curses surged up, but I barely managed to hold them back.

“Is this really the time to be joking around?”

“A joke? I mean every word.”

As soon as I finished speaking, I slowly traced my lips with the tip of the quill. My eyes held nothing but Louis.

The thought of having to pander to that b*stard like this until I regained my strength made me sick to my stomach. But what choice did I have? Until I could form a concrete plan, I had no option but to act this way, no matter how much I hated it.

That was the best I could do—someone who had lost everything, stripped of all power.

“Ahem!”

Louis cleared his throat and cast me a sidelong glance. I pressed my lips shut, wondering what he was staring at. Then his rough, chapped lips parted without a hint of hesitation.

“Well, what can I say? There isn’t just one or two women who follow me around because they like me. Being this handsome, I get exhausted sometimes. So, Mia—at least you, don’t be a nuisance to me.”

What absolute b*llshit.

“You just need to write. I’ll take care of everything else myself.”

Oh my.
His mouth is wide open and he’s spewing absolute filth.

“Mia, be grateful to the gods that you get to marry someone as splendid as me. No matter how hard you look, you won’t find a gentleman like me anywhere.”

It seemed this empire had completely run out of gentlemen. At that level, it was practically a disease.

“Yes, Louis.”

I held back despite the flood of curses running through my mind. Trying hard to smile, only the corner of my mouth twitched upward. Unable to manage my expression properly, I quickly bowed my head and pretended to write.

“That’s it, you should have been writing like that all along.”

Louis’s hand touched the top of my head.

Before, I would have been pleased by just this simple gesture, but now it felt more than unpleasant—it was revolting.

That’s how much I detested Louis, I suppose.

“This one will be published under your name too, like the last one.”

“Under my name?”

“Of course. Look at that bookshelf over there.”

His fingertip pointed to a bookshelf filled with neatly arranged books.

“Behold the beauty of all those books published under your name, lined up together!”

All the books on the shelf were labeled with the author name ‘Mia Reggie Simon.’

Looking at the bookshelf, I realized anew how many works I had produced with these hands.

At the same time, the anger I had been suppressing began to slowly rise to the surface.

“Mia, you are the greatest writer.”

Louis clearly thought I was an idiot.

It made sense that the cursed b*stard would act this way since he had no idea I’d regressed.

Back when I didn’t know he was using me, I would have believed all those books were published under my name.

But I was different now.

I knew those numerous books had actually met the public under the name ‘Louis Reggie Simon.’

I knew the books on that shelf were merely props designed to deceive me.

Knowing this all too well made me angry with myself.

How could I have believed such a flimsy lie?