Gardiyan had been eagerly awaiting the moment Magnus would finally craft the gun. He already missed the feeling of its grip in his hand—despite it having been only five days since he last held one.
"What are you doing?"
The small boy nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Yiren's voice behind him.
As expected, I'll never get used to this man's teleportation.
"Sitting on the floor, as you can see."
"I meant—why are you sitting on the floor? Didn't I create a chair and a sofa for you?"
"I like the floor," Gardiyan replied flatly.
Yiren raised an amused brow. "Then marry it," he shot back before throwing himself onto the bed.
"Are you seriously taking my bed again?"
Yiren glanced at him, then with a lazy wave of his hand, lifted Gardiyan with magic and set him down gently beside him. Not too close, of course—the bed was massive, and the space between them remained considerable.
"There. Now you're on the bed too. Happy? I didn't take anything."
Gardiyan sighed. "Could you stop using magic so casually? I'll never get used to it."
"Then get used to it."
"..."
"Why are you staring at me like that? That's your problem, not mine."
Eventually, both of them drifted off into sleep.
When Gardiyan woke up, he found Yiren staring at him—deeply, like he was trying to dissect his soul.
"What?"
"You don't look like your parents at all."
"What did they look like?"
Not that I care. I think they were mentioned in the novel, but I skipped that part.
"What novel?"
"…?"
Gardiyan's eyes widened in alarm. He replied cautiously, "Didn't you say you hated reading minds because it gives you migraines? Why are you doing it now?"
Yiren leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. "Because it's fun~"
Then he smirked slyly. "Little Gardy… what novel?"
Don't think. Don't think. Don't think.
Yiren frowned, then smiled again.
"The one i read in my past life."
Gardiyan gasped, hand flying to his mouth. What did I just say?! Why did I say that?!
Yiren let out a cold laugh. "I used truth magic, idiot. Your reaction is priceless."
Then his tone shifted. "So… what does the novel have to do with this? And why are Henry and Janet described exactly like in your so-called story?"
Gardiyan mumbled, clearly trying to avoid the question. But Yiren pulled his hand away from his mouth and stared him down.
"This world is a novel."
The air froze. Yiren didn't laugh or mock him—he had used truth magic, after all. Gardiyan couldn't lie.
"A novel? This world?" Yiren muttered. "So we're all… characters written by someone?"
Gardiyan sighed and nodded.
"What's my role? The main character?"
"The villain."
Yiren blinked. Then slowly, a sly smile curled his lips. "Oh. That's actually kind of perfect. I'm fine with that~"
He flopped back on the bed, almost dozing off again—until Gardiyan spoke.
"Can't you make me older? Like, look twenty? Or even fifteen?"
"I could," Yiren said, "but I won't. You're cute like this. Who knows, you might not be cute at all when you grow up."
"I've been meaning to ask—why do you look eighteen when you're twenty-six? Magic?"
"No. I'm half dragon."
"Half dragon?"
Aren't dragons those near-immortal divine beings with insane power?
"Correct."
"In that case, I'll just think instead of wasting energy talking."
"Fine, fine, I'll stop reading your thoughts."
"What does being half dragon mean, exactly?"
"It means I'm not a full dragon. My mother was a dragon. My father was human. They died twenty-five years ago."
"Oh… How did Janet—I mean, my mom—defeat you?"
"Was that mentioned in your novel? Because I honestly have no idea. Maybe she's just absurdly strong."
"And your parents—how did they die?"
"Why are you interrogating me? Shouldn't it be the other way around? Didn't your precious novel cover this?"
He sighed. "Anyway, I was like one year old. How would I remember how they died?"
"No, it wasn't mentioned…"
Yiren decided to drop the topic entirely, closing his eyes for another nap.
Lazy bastard…
******
It was my seventh… or maybe eighth day in this strange world, living with Yiren—the strongest mage and the main villain from the novel I used to know in my past life. I'd lost track of time. Days here passed in a way I couldn't quite measure.
Suddenly, Yiren snapped his fingers. "I'm making you new clothes."
And that was how I ended up standing like a mannequin while Yiren used magic to change my outfit—no undressing, no dressing. Just one flick and it changed.
'This saves time.' he said. But I couldn't help wondering—did he think I was too slow to get dressed?
Though the process was faster, it made me feel oddly like a doll, dressed and undressed without consent.
"Could you hurry up?" I finally muttered, annoyed.
Yiren gave me an exasperated look. "Can't you see I'm struggling to find something that doesn't look awful on you? You're so plain, nothing suits you."
I couldn't resist. "Your outfits are so loud—red and black with way too many gems, or yellow and green with even more. Am I wearing clothes, or am I wearing a treasure chest?"
With a smug lift of his chin, Yiren replied, "Jewels are among the most beautiful things in the world—after me, of course. And they sparkle! Look at how they shine in the sun!"
"They're just rocks to me. Also, could you stop messing with my hair?"
He was experimenting with every possible hairstyle—spiking it forward, parting it strangely.
He paused. "Why is your hair black if your parents were blond? Are you really Henry's son?"
"How should I know?"
"Useless." He walked out of the room—and probably the palace, too.
I watched him from the window until he vanished. Why does he walk when he can teleport?
Every day around this time, Yiren went somewhere on foot, disappearing for two or three hours. He never explained, and I never asked.
What now?
I headed to the vast open yard behind the palace. Perfect for training.
I ran twenty laps before collapsing, breathless.
"Ugh… I was aiming for fifty! Damn this five-year-old body."
I thought about my previous life. My old body had been perfect—the envy of many, the result of years of brutal training. And now, I was back to square one.
"What a tragic loss…"
After a short rest, I continued. Twenty push-ups nearly finished me.
"What are you doing? Kissing the ground?"
Yiren's voice startled me again. I lifted my head. "Training. But my body gave up on me."
With a simple spell, he made me float. "Training for what? Self-defense?"
"Can you put me down?"
"No. You're fine like this."
He walked toward the palace, and I floated behind him like a helium balloon on a string.
What is my life even?
I considered escaping—but gave up quickly. Even if I ran, Yiren would find me in seconds. Maybe not right away, but just for the fun of it.
I decided to stay. Honestly, life here wasn't bad. Best food, best rooms—Yiren brought me whatever I wanted. Wasn't that better than facing the world alone as a child?
"What are you spacing out about? Let me space out with you."
"No."
Yiren gave a mocking smile, sighed, and headed to the kitchen to make lunch.
For someone so lazy, Yiren was an incredible cook. His food was so good I genuinely believed he'd be a judge in any cooking competition—not a contestant.
But before I could guess what today's meal would be, a loud knock thundered through the palace door. I covered my ears instantly, fearing for my eardrums.
Who the hell bangs on the door of the world's strongest mage like that? Are they asking to die?