Consciousness struggled to rise from a cold, deep ocean, pushing through viscous darkness and countless fragments of memory.
The Crown Prince’s icy verdict, the harsh laughter of the surrounding nobles, the pain of being torn apart by Livia’s emblem power… all of it froze in that bone-chilling moment when his heart was pierced.
“Ugh!”
Allen’s ears rang as he snapped his eyes open, only to be blinded by a beam of light shining onto his face.
He squinted, slowly adjusting to the dim yellow light that stabbed into his vision.
‘Where is this?’
He turned his stiff neck and scanned the room. It was a spacious but unmistakably worn-out chamber.
Faded wallpaper curled slightly at the edges. In the corner stood a bulky, dark wooden wardrobe with intricate but outdated carvings.
The last rays of sunset filtered through an arched window set with cheap stained glass, barely illuminating the dust floating in the air.
Beneath him was a feather mattress so soft he sank into it, covered by a thick but faded tapestry quilt.
This environment, both familiar and strange, instantly activated fragments of the “original owner’s” memories in Allen’s mind.
This was his “home” in this world—the Raval Viscount Mansion. His own bedroom.
‘Wait…?’
‘Why am I at home?’
‘Shouldn’t I be starting a new playthrough at St. Nora Emblem Academy?’
‘What time is it now?!’
Panic coiled around Allen’s heart like icy vines.
He didn’t have respawn protection. If someone camped his resurrection point and killed him again, he wouldn’t even have a place to cry!
In his previous playthroughs, starting at the academy at least gave him some experience to handle the initial crisis. But now, with this new starting time, he didn’t even know who his enemies were!
Then, from the corner of the room, came a faint rustling sound.
A slender figure in a simple black-and-white maid outfit stood with her back to him, carefully polishing a brass candlestick on a tall cabinet.
The setting sun outlined her slightly thin silhouette, making her look small and helpless.
After dying countless times, Allen had long realized just how deep this world’s malice ran toward him.
The original owner’s attitude of bossing everyone around with cruelty and ingratitude was practically a walking death sentence.
To survive, he had to change! Starting with how he treated everyone, especially this seemingly harmless maid before him.
“Uh… excuse me…”
Allen tried to speak, his voice hoarse like sandpaper scraping, but he made an effort to make his tone unusually gentle, even adding a hint of cautious hesitation.
At the sound of his voice, the maid’s body stiffened abruptly, as if hit by a pause button. The hand wiping the candlestick visibly trembled, producing a soft click as brass met wood.
She turned around hesitantly.
Allen saw her face. She was young, about fourteen or fifteen, with delicate features and fair skin, though now it was almost transparently pale. A few strands of sweat-soaked black hair clung to her forehead.
What sent a chill through his heart were her red eyes, which momentarily flashed with a dangerous glint.
The maid stared at him, her voice tinged with confusion.
“Why are you still alive?”
There was no respect, no fear—only a cold interrogation and undisguised vigilance.
Her body tensed, fingers unconsciously curling. Her defensive posture was nothing like a docile, gentle maid’s. It was clearly that of an assassin ready to pounce and finish the job at any moment.
Allen had no doubt that if he showed even a hint of the original owner’s usual brutality, he’d experience a pillow suffocation or a candlestick bludgeon to the head within seconds.
His stomach began to ache dully as he recognized her.
Marianne Durand.
His personal maid.
One of the romanceable characters in Star Love Song.
The long-lost childhood friend of the phoenix-overlord heroine, Livia von Stern, whom she still longed for.
And… a secret member of the Crimson Spiral Order, who worshipped an evil god and bore a transplanted false emblem!
If Livia’s killings of Allen were mostly wrapped in a thin veil of “justice,” the memories Marianne brought Allen were nothing but gory and bizarre scenes blurred by censored mosaics.
‘Why is she still by my side?’
Allen began recalling the original setting for Marianne.
Marianne was Livia’s childhood friend. The two had promised to stay together forever when they grew up.
But Livia was retrieved by her father, and they were forcibly separated.
To support her sick mother and younger brothers, Marianne went alone to the bustling but cold royal capital, seeking work. What awaited her, however, was the demon—the original Allen de Laval.
Day after day of brutal abuse, the hopelessness of ever reuniting with Livia, and the crushing weight of her family’s poverty finally broke Marianne.
Her heart twisted and darkened. To gain the power for revenge, she joined the Crimson Spiral Order.
In Marianne’s route in Star Love Song, she served as Allen’s maid within the academy, acting as an inside agent for the order.
When Livia investigated the cultists at school, she fought against Marianne, who had been corrupted by the false emblem’s power and had nearly lost her mind.
At the climax of the battle, Marianne’s deep longing for Livia and their unfulfilled promise miraculously overcame her resentment and the emblem’s control. She tearfully begged Livia to kill her and end her suffering.
Livia reunited with her most important childhood friend—only to find them as enemies.
Overwhelmed by guilt and grief, Livia desperately fled with Marianne, becoming a wanted fugitive of both the church and the kingdom.
But the emblem’s erosion of life was irreversible; Marianne had less than a year left to live. So, the two embarked on a grand and desperate journey under the sun, seeing all the sights they had once promised to see together.
Finally, in Livia’s arms, Marianne closed her eyes forever with a faint, relieved smile.
This storyline was tear-jerking, hailed by many players as a masterpiece.
But every time Allen thought about it, a chill ran down his spine—because in this route, and in countless bad endings involving Marianne, he, Allen de Laval, was without exception betrayed and killed by Marianne in various gruesome and painful ways, becoming her “sacrifice” to the evil god!
Allen could understand Marianne’s overwhelming hatred for the “original owner.” Even though those beastly acts weren’t committed by him, he couldn’t tell Marianne:
‘The bastard you hate has already drowned. Someone else is in this shell now. I’m truly sorry for what happened! But let’s be fair—please spare the current me!’
He knew that no matter what he did, he would never be forgiven.
Marianne’s hatred was already etched into her bones, tempered by the cult’s doctrine and her twisted heart into something cold and pure.
If Marianne was still here, serving (or rather, keeping an eye on) him after his “awakening” as his personal maid…
Then the current time point must be far before his official enrollment at St. Nora Emblem Academy!
In the previous playthrough, he chose to lie low, avoid all contact with major characters, and survive like a ghost on the academy’s fringe.
Yet at the graduation banquet, the Crown Prince and Livia still teamed up to kill him. This probably wasn’t a flaw in the plan—it was the malicious convergence of the world line!
He, Allen de Laval, was destined to be the disposable villain sacrificed in the story of Star Love Song!
But this time… he had started a new playthrough at “home,” before even entering the main plot?
A daring thought cut through the fog like lightning: Had the world line shifted?
An earlier start meant… more room to maneuver?
For example, he might find a way—not to enroll! To completely avoid St. Nora Emblem Academy, avoid Livia von Stern, avoid all those damn death flags in the academy arc!
In his past failed playthroughs, he had tried to flee the capital.
But every time he attempted to leave the “stage” preset by the plot, he would die in various bizarre “accidents,” as if an invisible hand was forcibly pushing him back onto the “right track.”
But now, this “home” start was itself an unprecedented “bug”! Could this be… a sign of loosening world rules? An opportunity to break the cycle of death?
Allen’s heart pounded with this possibility. Opportunity! This was definitely the one chance he had earned from countless deaths to break the deadlock!
He had to use this start to complete the game without dying even once!
And the first step to breaking the deadlock was the black-haired, red-eyed maid who held his life in her hands—Marianne Durand.
He needed to, immediately, defuse her murderous intent as much as possible! How?
Fragments of the original owner’s memories surged up:
A sunny afternoon outing. The original Allen, yet again, hurled baseless insults at Marianne, who was silently following behind.
Then he contemptuously ordered her to clean up the scattered picnic mess while he staggered toward the glittering lake.
He left his defenseless back to the girl he had tormented to the brink. At that moment, the long-accumulated resentment, humiliation, and despair finally breached Marianne’s dam of reason.
She reached out, channeling all her strength and curses, and pushed that villainous young master into the deep water…
Drowning.
Allen had no idea what happened after the drowning. He only knew that when the original owner woke up again, the soul inside had been replaced by him—the unfortunate transmigrator.
“Did you save me?” Allen decided to play dumb. He tried to let a look of gratitude appear on his pale face, his voice gentler than ever before. “Thank you.”
This was the safest opening line he could think of at the moment.
“Thank you?”
The confusion in Marianne’s red eyes vanished instantly, replaced by nothing but bone-chilling coldness and the clear recognition of his disguise.
She looked at him, a faint, almost imperceptible curl at the corner of her mouth, as if mocking his clumsy act.
“I didn’t save you,” Marianne said, her tone terrifyingly calm, as if stating an objective fact unrelated to her. “I pushed you into the water. I wanted to drown you.”
She paused, her crimson pupils locked onto Allen’s eyes, observing his slightest reaction. “You don’t need to thank me. It’s just that you were lucky, thrashing about until someone fished you out.”
“So, what are you planning to do with this… ‘gentle’ act of yours and this hypocritical apology? Call the guards to arrest me for attempted murder? Or throw me into the fountain to freeze again? Go ahead.”
Cold sweat instantly drenched Allen’s back.
He was completely screwed!
He knew Marianne hated him to the bone, but he hadn’t expected her hatred and vigilance to be at this level!
Not only did she calmly admit to the murder attempt, she even dismissed his deliberately displayed “change” as a new form of torture.
This wasn’t just hatred anymore… this was post-completion darkness and a condescending, above-it-all attitude!
Damn it!
Allen had harbored a faint hope that Marianne might not have fully joined the cult yet. But now, her ice-cold, numb eyes, her calmness in facing accusations, her implied “do whatever you want” indifference…
All pointed to a more terrifying fact: she had most likely already made contact with, or even joined, the Crimson Spiral Order!
Her blatant disregard for the master she once hated showed that, in her heart, she believed she had gained some power or a way out, no longer fearing Allen’s retaliation.
In other words… Allen might not even make it out of the starting village. He would die before he even began!
Allen’s brain spun at an unprecedented speed.
Right now, he had just woken up, his body weak as cotton, unarmed, nowhere near as capable as he was in the previous playthrough after three years of training at the academy.
Getting into a direct confrontation with Marianne, who was in this strange state and likely possessed false emblem powers? Success rate: near zero. Mortality rate: two hundred percent!
Since direct force wouldn’t work, and his fake “gentleness” had been exposed… there was only one path left: cut ties!
Allen took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his trembling body and churning stomach. Meeting Marianne’s cold, scrutinizing gaze, he spoke clearly in a tone mixed with exhaustion, disgust, and “candor”:
“Marianne Durand. You’re fired.”
The air froze.
The cold mockery on Marianne’s face cracked for the first time, replaced by pure astonishment.
“What did you say?”
Her crimson eyes widened slightly, and her voice finally carried a trace of genuine emotion.
Allen ignored her shock and continued speaking, his pace steady, as if stating a perfectly normal business decision.
“Don’t be surprised. I don’t have amnesia. I haven’t forgotten the cruel abuse I inflicted on you.”
He paused, observing her reaction. Her brow furrowed, confusion deepening, but that icy murderous intent seemed to stagnate.
“However,” Allen changed his tone, adopting a nearly ruthless pragmatism, “in the end, my father hired you. He paid you your wages, and he never withheld them, right? You suffered a lot, but that salary did feed your sick mother and younger brothers, didn’t it?”
He accurately struck the softest, most unshakable part of Marianne’s heart—her family.
Marianne’s eyes flickered violently, and her body tensed almost imperceptibly.
“As the top scumbag in the royal capital, I at least have some self-awareness,” Allen admitted openly, his tone even carrying a hint of self-deprecation. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. Probably not in the next life either. But…”
He looked up, meeting Marianne’s eyes directly, speaking with sincerity: “I’m… tired now. Tired of this boring game of bullying. And you, clearly, have had enough of me—to the point of attempted murder.”
“So, let’s part ways here.” Allen spread his hands. The movement pulled at his weak body, making him cough twice, but his tone remained steady.
“Since you don’t want to see me anymore, and you don’t want to serve this ‘master’ of yours, I’m giving you that chance. As of now, your maid duties are officially over.”
“As compensation for your past… well, ‘mental damages,’ you can collect an extra two years’ wages and leave. I’ll personally discuss it with the head butler to make sure the money reaches you.”
“That amount shouldn’t be small, right? Enough to keep your family stable for a while, maybe even help your brothers find decent apprenticeships.”
The room was dead silent. Only the occasional chirp of a bird came from outside the window.
Marianne stared fixedly at Allen. Her red eyes churned with extremely complex emotions: shock, suspicion, vigilance, a wavering triggered by the strike at her weakness, and deeper confusion.
She seemed to be frantically analyzing the true intent behind Allen’s words. Was it a new game of torment? Or was it… real?
Allen saw her wavering and decided to add one final push—his only “chip” at this moment:
“Of course, maybe you think money can never make up for the harm I caused you. Maybe you still want to kill me. To be honest…” Allen gave a weary, nearly hollow smile.
“I don’t really care. If you want to kill me, go ahead. But Marianne, think about the consequences. If you kill me—the only heir of House Laval—you’ll be undeniably guilty of killing your master.”
“You’ll immediately become a top fugitive of the kingdom. What about your family then? Can they escape with you?”
Allen’s “threat” was a sharp thorn that precisely pierced Marianne’s deepest fear.
The murderous intent and coldness in her eyes melted and receded at a visible rate, like thin ice under a scorching sun, replaced by a profound blankness.
Her clenched fingers had loosened without her even realizing it.
After what felt like an eternity, Marianne finally spoke, her voice a little less cold and a little more of an inexpressible complexity:
“Young Master…”
She seemed to want to say something but swallowed it back.
She averted her gaze, no longer looking at Allen’s face—the face she both hated and found baffling—and fixed her eyes on the faded wallpaper.
“I think your brain is still muddled from being soaked in that lake water too long,” she murmured, her tone regaining some of a maid’s formality, but without the earlier murderous intent. “But since you’re awake, my ‘work’ begins now.”
She turned sharply without a moment’s hesitation and walked straight to the door.
“I’ll go tell the Viscount right now that you’ve ‘come back to life’.”
With those words, the door closed softly behind her, leaving Allen alone on the wide, soft bed, facing the deepening twilight outside.
Had the negotiation… succeeded? Allen wasn’t sure.
Marianne’s final attitude was still ambiguous, but at least he had safely navigated the initial crisis.
He let out a long, silent breath. His back was already soaked with cold sweat. Just a few exchanges of words felt more exhausting than cutting through an entire knight order in the previous playthrough.
But before he could even relax his tense nerves, a more immediate and pressing question surfaced:
What to do next about his “father,” Viscount Bernard de Raval, who “doted” on him yet had brought the Raval family to the brink of collapse?
A new challenge—or rather, a new death flag—was already waiting outside the door.