IWBNAM Chapter 1 (Part 3)

He inherited the memories and abilities, but…

Juwon tried to recall what plans the original Azani had been forming before possession. It wasn’t difficult to remember, but he was horrified.

‘It would be nice if that woman, the one slated to become empress, were to die in an unexpected accident or suffer a miscarriage.’

What kind of person was the original Azani? Wasn’t he… a bit too cruel? What kind of grudge did he hold to wish for someone’s death or miscarriage?

Carefully retracing the past, Juwon reminded himself: the original was the original, and Lee Juwon was Lee Juwon. From an objective distance, he examined the circumstances that had led to this mindset.

The emperor was young and capable, but his support base was weak. Merely gathering lower nobles and commoners to his side wasn’t enough. The emperor needed a partner who would become a strong political ally beside him.

She had to be wise, possess good character, and be of fine appearance. She also needed the ability to bear healthy heirs. These were the standard requirements for a top-tier bride, and the requirements for becoming empress were even stricter.

The empress held the authority to act as regent whenever the emperor was absent. She could not show the slightest hint of unworthiness in front of the people.

She needed the dignity and bearing to stand above all others, so a woman from a common background was unsuitable in many ways. Her family could not be too powerful, lest the imperial in-laws take over the government, but neither could she come from a humble house, as she would not receive proper respect.

Her family needed to be neither overly grand nor too modest. Her parents needed to have spotless reputations, and her father, upon becoming the emperor’s father-in-law, could not be the type to have his character altered by power. Politically and economically, her family needed enough influence to help the emperor if necessary, by using connections or whatever else was needed.

Because the empress had to be the emperor’s first political partner, her qualifications had to be thoroughly examined. Beautiful, sweet romantic feelings were not strictly necessary.

The original Azani believed this firmly. Those destined to stand above others should never let themselves be swayed by petty emotional games; they must prioritize conditions before anything else.

Marital love? That would naturally develop from mutual respect while living together. And this was the emperor, not just anyone. If he felt drawn to someone else, he could simply take her as a favored consort. As long as the legitimate empress was firmly established, having a few concubines would cause no trouble.

For this reason, Azani carefully selected a few candidates. The one he considered most suitable was the only daughter of the Imperial Bank’s governor. She was three years younger than the emperor, a brilliant graduate who finished first in the economics department of the Imperial University, beautiful in appearance, and gentle in temperament.

Her father, the governor of the Imperial Bank, was a highly respected scholar in the economic field and had never overstepped his authority politically. He was the perfect candidate for the emperor’s father-in-law.

Just when Azani thought everything would be resolved once the emperor decided, things took an unexpected turn. The daughter of the emperor’s old nanny, who was now working as his personal secretary, was reported to be pregnant.

Azani had long known about their relationship. What was the issue with the emperor keeping someone he liked close? But pregnancy was something else entirely. Absolutely not.

The empress had not yet been chosen. To firmly support the legitimacy of the imperial heir, the empress had to be the first to give birth. That was basic common sense. Yet the concubine became pregnant first, disappointment was unavoidable.

If it were a daughter, that would still be fortunate. But if it were a son?

What if the newly appointed empress failed to produce a legitimate heir quickly?

If the concubine’s son gained support solely for being the eldest?

It was obvious, the succession would become a complete mess in the future.

There was no way this would end without trouble. Sooner or later, conflict would inevitably break out between the concubine’s eldest son and the legitimate heir.

For now, the nanny’s daughter lived quietly and modestly, but if she gave birth to a son and continued to receive the emperor’s affection, who knew how she would change? Human history was full of such cases. The probability that she would become ruthless for her son’s future was high.

He had thought they had been using contraception properly, so how had it failed? Or… had she done it deliberately?

Quite possible. The emperor was a romantic, after all.

He was never fond of purely strategic marriages based only on conditions. He understood the logic in his head, but emotionally, he resisted it.

After the empress was officially appointed, Azani had advised the emperor to take the nanny’s daughter as a favored concubine. He had never considered raising her to the position of empress. A woman from such a low-ranking noble family, possessing no strengths beyond being kind and domestic, would only invite contempt if she became empress.

But the emperor had gone ahead and gotten her pregnant anyway. And beyond that, he seemed determined to make her empress.

Azani had tried to think of a way to induce miscarriage, deciding it could not be allowed, but the path was blocked. The emperor knew all too well what kind of man his loyal subordinate was. He gave Azani a warning and a request.

‘She’s my woman. Protect her, Nael.’

When the emperor said it like that, there was no room to act. Far from harming her, Azani had to protect her with everything he had, making sure no one else could lay a hand on her. That was the emperor’s will.

While frustration was boiling inside him, Azani was appointed Imperial Marshal, and in the upcoming cabinet reshuffle, he had been designated for the position of Imperial Chancellor.

Lee Juwon let out a long sigh. What a complicated background. This was absolutely not something a newly admitted college freshman should be dealing with.

What the emperor expected from Azani was to use political maneuvering to solidify imperial authority. As the designated chancellor-to-be, Azani was required to discard all human emotion and pursue maximum efficiency like a machine. If someone was useless, discard them. If they were dangerous, purge them. If they posed even a potential threat, restrain them with chains. All the curses and hatred born from these actions would fall onto him alone. Only then would the young ruler be admired as a great leader.

Wrapped in Azani’s shell, Juwon felt as if cold water had been poured over him. The brief moment when he could savor being an imperial marshal at thirty-six had disappeared in an instant. After glimpsing the fate awaiting this man named Azani in the original story, Juwon instinctively felt a strong sense of refusal.

“I… I can’t do this.”

He recalled the marshal appointment ceremony earlier that day. In the grandest hall of the imperial palace, he had been required to walk with perfect composure while tens of thousands of civil and military officials watched.

Even imagining it made Juwon’s confidence shrink. There was no way he could replicate that. Even giving a graduation speech as the representative of his high school had made him extremely nervous… and here he was expected to walk under the gaze of tens of thousands, many of whom were not friendly. Continuing the original life was impossible.

Azani had been a man who isolated himself. Aside from dedicating his life to the Empire and the emperor, he cared for little else. He placed no value in maintaining amicable relationships with those around him. He believed that getting close to others would only hold him back.

As a result, he gained almost no favorable evaluations. Everyone looked at him warily and felt uncomfortable around him.

They did not openly express hostility, but most secretly wished for him to make a mistake and fall. For example, Admiral Antigonos Kranaha, the Empire’s greatest war hero, was the prime example. Others were probably no different. They acknowledged his competence but found him disagreeable, and if Azani were to die in an “unfortunate accident,” they would secretly rejoice.

The young ruler employed Azani heavily but did not fully trust him on a personal level. He feared deep down that Azani might attempt something underhanded and harm his betrothed. And as for everyone else? Had Azani formed any genuine human bonds?

No. They merely used each other as needed and interacted in a strictly formal manner. He had no friends, nor even close colleagues.

Such a human environment was unimaginable for Juwon. He had grown up in a warm and comfortable middle-class family, well-liked by everyone, and had maintained friendly relationships with all. He couldn’t even imagine living as the original Azani had.

“It’s too much for me. I’m just a college student.”

He got nervous even when receiving a few hostile comments online, and here he was expected to endure the wary gazes of hundreds of millions? Impossible.

He understood whose body he had ended up in. But Juwon, the eighteen-year-old who had lived in twenty-first-century South Korea, had always been greeted with friendly eyes. He had been born to a middle-class family everyone envied, adored by adults, and popular among friends. After living that kind of life for over a decade, was he now supposed to act as the emperor’s shadow in exchange for becoming an imperial marshal?

“Why am I supposed to devote myself that much?”

Yes, the original had his reasons. But Juwon didn’t care.

Why did it have to be this kind of world? If only he had possessed someone in a feel-good healing fantasy where he could relax and enjoy life.

His hands gripped the armrests tightly. It wasn’t easy to contain the anxiety and nervousness rising within him.

Calm down. Calm down. Think clearly about what comes next.

He took a deep breath in and out, steadying himself. He already felt a bit better.

Think. Do I really have to live according to the original story? No one is holding a knife to my neck, threatening me to recreate everything exactly. And besides, I haven’t even read the original novel, so I couldn’t follow it even if I tried.

If there had been a status window system, it would be different. If the system forced him to complete quests and follow the storyline, he would have had no choice, but such a thing didn’t exist in this world. So couldn’t he do whatever he wanted? Right, Lee Juwon?

With a clearer gaze, he looked ahead. The answer became obvious. What had been Azani’s lifelong goal in the first place? Overthrowing this damned Empire, which championed strict caste hierarchy and fanatical white supremacy.

Born to a white noble father from a hereditary family and a commoner East Asian mother, he had grown up under cold ridicule and disdain. His father had been forced to renounce his baronial title to get the marriage approved, while his mother had been branded a vulgar woman who ruined a nobleman’s life by not knowing her place. She had lived in hiding, scorned, and died young.

Trying to find a way to overturn this absurd world where skin color and status dictated everything, he eventually met his lord and swore loyalty. This lord, though possessing the finest white features, had values completely unlike those of the old age. He stood before the people and declared that he would build a nation free from discrimination based on skin color and caste.

After the old guard lost the civil war, Azani’s goal was essentially fulfilled. From then on, institutional discrimination would no longer be recognized. So Azani could have stepped back.

“The original purpose has been achieved. The rest is just volunteer work.”

Juwon pictured the young emperor. The silver-haired, sky-blue-eyed genius protagonist had plenty of brilliant talents besides Azani. Removing one Azani wouldn’t collapse anything, the others would fill the gap.

If Azani were to request retirement at this point…

They would think he was protesting because of the empress appointment issue. If he truly disliked it, the emperor would probably grant retirement.

And others? They might suspect some ulterior motive. But a first-class contributor was ultimately nothing more than a burdensome figure who would one day have to be purged. If the most inscrutable and dangerous man voluntarily retired, everyone would secretly welcome it.

The emperor’s shadow? A life spent devising cold-blooded schemes on his behalf and enduring the resentment of all? Who cared. Difficult, painful things were unwelcome. He preferred easy, fun, and comfortable things. And even if he sacrificed himself, who would truly appreciate it? At best, he would receive a few flattering words about being useful to the Empire.

Then the moment he turned away, they would gossip about how cold and unpleasant this Azani had been. Right? Why should he be the only one to commit to unrewarded sacrifice?

“If you don’t like my decision, then cancel the possession, bring back my original soul, and let me live my own life.”

Juwon muttered sarcastically, crossing one leg over the other. Of course, the possession did not end. The original personality did not appear to speak to him either.

A faint smile touched Juwon’s lips. It seemed he could focus on pursuing a pleasant and peaceful life as a retired marshal.

“For a leisurely retirement.”

With that, Juwon neatly organized the chaos in his mind.