I'm being Mistaken for The Mastermind

Chapter 1

The year he turned 24.

Lee Hanol was possessed.

Even though he never wanted it.

Possessed, you say!

Someone might be happy about this.

A new body, a new life, and even a new family!

But not for Lee Hanol.

Cautiousness. Safety first.

Words that summarized Lee Hanol's life.

He valued his life, health, and stability above all else.

Even if it was a bit tough, he wanted to live carefully, quietly, and without risk.

He avoided injustice when he saw it and tried his best not to create dangerous situations.

Even when eating Chinese food with others, he always went for sweet and sour pork first, made sure to collect membership points when shopping, always added leeks and radish kimchi to his soup, and enjoyed scalding hot showers even in the summer.

The epitome of a basic man.

But he never admitted it, which completed the image.

And yet, he was possessed!

At first, he denied it, then he got angry, then he tried to negotiate, and finally, he accepted it.

He became Evan Alcart, the mid-boss of Act 2 in the medieval fantasy RPG game he enjoyed playing, .

It took him nine months to get to this point.

Not because he was a basic man.

But because the body he possessed was too weak.

Evan Alcart.

The weakest boss in Act 2.

Its story and concept weren't bad.

A rare profession as an 'Alchemist,' an addict dependent on his own potions, and a terminally ill condition.

[Evan Alcart is the second son of a duke. Once the child of the duke's most beloved mistress, he was abandoned after her death.

To resurrect his mother, he learned 'Alchemy,' but he was too hasty and lost his eyes as a consequence of breaking taboos.

In the end, he became a madman who synthesized humans with humans.]

A vivid backstory that evoked pity.

Yes.

From the perspective of a third party, it seemed that way.

But becoming him was unimaginably terrible.

Nicknamed Glass Fish.

Lowest difficulty,

Fainting and vomiting at the slightest provocation.

The weakest of the weak.

So, he took extreme measures to survive.

Rule number one for survival.

'Never step forward!'

It wasn't because he was scared.

It was all for safety.

Survival was important.

Evan's alchemy included 'Golem Creation.'

He prioritized making golems over potions and quietly controlled them from his room.

The goal was to collect materials with the golems and create an elixir to heal his body.

Fortunately, he knew how to make an elixir.

With that confidence, three months passed,

marking the first year of possession.

Evan realized.

That this wouldn't work.

To gather the materials, the main storyline had to progress.

But at that time?

The world was already heading toward destruction.

The player's goal was to prevent the end of the world.

Could Evan progress the main storyline in his current state?

Impossible.

No, even if he could, he didn't want to.

Was this even a normal world?

A harsh world where one misstep could lead to death, poison could kill you, assassins might target you, or monsters could tear you apart.

Throwing himself into such dangers was not a manly thing to do!

Wasn't there someone else who could do it instead?

Fortunately, there wasn't just a single way to survive.

He thought of a dramatic method.

The main supporters who played a significant role in progressing the story of .

Couldn't he leave it to them?

The main supporters weren't absolute saints.

But they didn't want the world to end either.

He didn't consider the more powerful 'villains' because of this.

There was no need to reform the villains with great difficulty.

The flaws and shortcomings of the main supporters were something Evan could sufficiently help fix.

The possibility was there.

The only concern was the DLC, which he hadn't played.

Well, that shouldn't be a big problem.

The DLC was an extra story.

The developer had announced that it wouldn't significantly affect the main storyline.

So, it should be fine to ignore it.

The first person he decided on was the Saintess.

There were various reasons.

The lowest difficulty in persuasion,

The continent's best healing abilities,

And a wide network of connections.

Once the Saintess was convinced, persuading other supporters would be easier.

The Saintess was that much of a socialite.

If things went wrong, she could even save his life.

Thus, after ten days.

Evan finally completed it.

The letter and potions to send to the Saintess.

***

"Young Master! It's time to wake up!"

Evan slowly opened his eyes.

The luxurious wooden ceiling and the room's scenery.

It was the room of Evan Alcart, which he had now grown accustomed to.

'Ugh. Anemia.'

His vision turned white.

He was now used to this sensation.

Pressing his head with a groan, Evan greeted his servant.

"Good morning, Dolph."

"G-good morning to you too, Young Master......!"

The servant, Dolph, was moved to tears by the morning greeting.

Actually, that was a significant improvement.

In the past, just hearing 'polite speech' would make him have a seizure.

Crybaby servant, Dolph.

Currently, the person Evan is closest to and can trust the most.

Yet, why does he use polite speech?

'Ahem. If I mess up, he might poison my food or something.'

Before Evan was possessed, he was quite the scoundrel.

It was an effort to improve relationships and perceptions, even just a little.

Though it didn't seem to work very well.

"Dolph. Could you bring me some stationery and a fountain pen?"

"Yes! Young Master! Who are you sending it to?"

"To the Saintess."

"Yes! The Saintess... What?!"

Dolph looked as if he was asking what on earth that meant.

Evan averted his gaze and began scribbling on the stationery.

Fortunately, he had long been accustomed to writing.

A fancy handwriting he had practiced diligently. He felt proud.

'If I add this phrase, it'll be a direct hit.'

Since she might not open the letter, he wrote an important phrase on the outside.

- Until the day the moon wanes, we are the crying phoenix and the traceless holy horse.

He didn't know what it meant, but this one phrase could push the Saintess's favorability past 90.

Choosing the Saintess as the first target was partly because of this.

The difficulty of raising her favorability was the lowest.

"Send this letter along with the crimson potion on my desk to the temple."

"But, Young Master... Yes... Understood..."

Dolph, on the verge of tears, tried to stop him but eventually gave up.

It seemed he believed Evan's condition was that severe.

'That's not the case though...'

No matter how bad Evan was, he was still an alchemist.

He could at least make a potion to slightly alleviate his condition.

'Now I need to send a letter to the next main ally too.'

Of course, the illness remained, but he had adapted to it, so it was fine—

"Cough!"

Splurt!

At that moment, Evan coughed violently. Blood splattered heavily on his hand and the white blanket.

The reaction came from his body—or rather, his soul.

He grabbed the bell next to the bed and shook it like crazy.

Ding-ding-ding!

"The doctor! Where is the doctor?!"

"The Young Master coughed up blood! Doctor! Priest! Someone, call anyone immediately!"

Someone is coughing up blood!

***

Mount Sun, known as the mountain closest to the sun.

At its peak was the great temple of the Sun Church.

The commander of the Holy Knights, who had come to find the Saintess praying alone in the vast prayer room, handed her a letter.

"Saintess. A letter has arrived."

"Thank you, Commander of the Holy Knights."

"It's nothing. Serving the Saintess is my destiny."

With a benevolent smile, the commander of the Holy Knights looked at the Saintess receiving the letter with a small question in his mind.

'Why did she accept the letter?'

The sender was the second son of the Alcart duchy.

The family wasn't bad.

They consistently sent donations and maintained good relations with the Imperial Family.

Tied to the underworld?

It was trivial.

The problem was the second son himself.

He was somewhat of a notorious figure.

Mostly for bad reasons.

'Wasn't he called a drug addict and a scoundrel?'

Rumor had it that he was an alchemist and even dabbled in drug manufacturing.

'An alchemist...'

A rare profession hard to find on the continent.

It wasn't particularly impressive.

All he did was things like drug manufacturing.

He neither commanded respect nor evoked sympathy.

From a year ago, he seemed to have repented and stayed quiet.

But it had only been a year.

No matter how much he had changed, how much could he have changed in that time?

At least not enough to catch the Saintess's interest...

It was then.

"...Huh, huhuhu."

The Saintess, who was looking at the letter, let out a laugh.

A beautiful but chilling smile formed.

"...Saintess?"

"Could you leave for a moment?"

"Yes, Saintess."

After the commander of the Holy Knights stepped away, the Saintess stared intently at the letter alone.

The content of the letter wasn't particularly important.

What mattered was the phrase written on the outside of the stationery.

- Until the day the moon wanes, we are the crying phoenix and the traceless holy horse.

'How does he know this phrase that only I and my god know?'

Evan Alcart, a disregarded second son, couldn't possibly know this phrase.

Had the Sun created a new apostle?

No, that couldn't be.

The only apostle directly chosen by the Sun was Adrianna.

Then—

'Does he know... all of my plans?'

Someone had appeared who saw through all her plans.

The Saintess of the Sun, Adrianna Saint.

Famous for her benevolent nature and devout character.

There was no falsehood in this.

Except for one thing.

Only if you excluded the fact she was hiding.

'How does he know about my plan to bring my Sun into this world?'

The descent of the Sun.

Quietly planning for this, she had been manipulating the Sun Church from behind the scenes.

The mastermind controlling the temple from the shadows.

It was the 'true identity' of Adrianna Saint, who had hidden behind the mask of a devout Saintess.

'Even the cure for my incurable disease...'

The murky crimson potion enclosed with the letter.

It was a potion that could partially cure the curse that the Saintess had suffered from for a long time.

"Hoo, hoohoo. How amusing."

Cold sweat trickled down the forehead of the Saintess, who was pretending to be calm.

'Is this a warning? Or mockery? Are they saying my plan is that flawed?'

It didn't appear to have good intentions.

Sending only a letter instead of meeting directly,

and blatantly engraving that precious phrase as if to flaunt it.

Didn't it seem as though they were mocking the Saintess's plan as insignificant?

Crumple-

The letter clutched in her hand was crumpled.

It was like the crumpled pride of the Saintess.

'......I need to find out.'

Adrianna, the Saintess, resolved.

Whether this was a coincidence.

If not, how much Evan knew.

Whether Evan was truly the 'Mastermind' playing and manipulating above their heads-

Somehow, she had to find out.