This Novel is not my Novel

"Did you find anything useful?"

When I closed the documents and placed them on the table, the original protagonist asked as though he had been waiting for the moment.

Whether I should answer him was no simple question.

Is the original author writing this situation into the novel as well?

I lowered my gaze and swept it across the table.

A snack that existed outside this novel's world sat on a plate before me.

And it looked exactly like something that would trend on video platforms or social media.

Judging by this alone, it does seem unlikely that she can observe us...

But I could not be certain.

Author Senna was not the type to devote much effort to descriptions of food or everyday life.

She might have omitted the entire sequence of Reisir taking the potato chip chocolate block out of the refrigerator, removing the packaging, borrowing a knife and cutting board from Yor, slicing it, and transferring it onto a plate.

She could simply have condensed all of that into a single sentence stating that her protagonist offered his guest snacks and drinks.

It would be safer to answer under the assumption that whatever I said from this point onward would also become known to the original author.

That left me with only one issue to consider.

Would it be better for the original author to know what I am thinking, or not...?

It would be ideal if learning my plan caused the original author to overturn whatever development she had originally intended.

But no matter how much I thought it over, I could only conclude that such a thing would never happen.

The original author preferred developments in which the protagonist stepped in to resolve the incident, or where matters concluded at the cost of a major supporting character's life.

But the method I came up with leaves the original protagonist no room to intervene... She may dislike that and move the villain before I can put my plan into action, forcing through the development she wants instead.

Once events began moving, the original author would inevitably find out eventually.

Still, the later she learned of it, the fewer opportunities she would have to interfere, and the more obvious and straightforward her method would become.

If so, there would be no need for me to remain constantly on edge, tormented by anxiety.

I could focus on the precise moment when the original author was likely to intervene and prepare for the danger in a stable, controlled manner.

"Well... more or less?"

There was a reason I gave that answer instead of denying the original protagonist's question after going on at such length in my narration.

And that reason was—

"What information did you find, and how are you planning to use it?"

"I will tell you later. For now, I need some time to organize my thoughts."

—to buy time.

If I put it that way, Senna's readers would become curious about the method I had devised.

At least until they learned what my plan was, the original author would be unable to recklessly manipulate the villain into causing trouble and would have no choice but to wait.

However, there was no need to hide it from my dear readers as well, so allow me to offer a small hint here.

I intended to make use of Valtraus.

Just as Ragfrid, the elder sister of this possessed body, had served as the First Princess's playmate, his elder brother Valtraus was likewise close to the First Prince for the same reason.

The confession villain's elder brother was also acquainted with the First Prince, and it seemed their entire family had aligned itself with the First Prince's faction.

Moreover, according to the material Pret had given me,

the villain deeply admired his elder brother and listened to him even more obediently than he did his own parents.

Apparently, even his preference for submissive women had been influenced by his brother, or something along those lines.

In any case,

I planned to send Valtraus a letter informing him that the villain had gone around saying, "The reason the head of the family cannot remarry is because his family is insignificant."

I would tell him to make sure his friend's younger brother was properly educated.

The villain had only said it to insult Helga's family, the House of Baron Vitnir.

But Hardr had not remarried either, so the statement was effectively no different from looking down on the House of Duke Austri.

It could even be interpreted to mean that, if Hardr wished to avoid being disrespected in such a way, he ought to take a new wife as soon as possible.

Valtraus is such a hopeless mama's boy that he still hates the younger brother born at the same time their mother died. Unlike the rest of his family, he also has a hot temper. Once he learns of this, there is no way he will stay quiet.

Although the House of Duke Austri had not clearly chosen between the First Princess and the First Prince and maintained ties to both,

even so...

No, precisely because of that, the First Prince would be unable to side with Count Ofraushi's family.

If Valtraus turned his back on him and the House of Duke Austri ended up fully supporting the First Princess, the loss would be anything but minor.

The First Prince might instead join Valtraus in reprimanding the villain's elder brother.

After experiencing something like that, the brother would feel truly cornered.

He would fear that the First Prince might cast him aside because of his younger brother.

He would force his brother to apologize for the offending remark, keep a constant watch on his behavior, and discipline him thoroughly.

If that happened,

the villain would at least stop causing trouble around me.

Helga's safety, as another member of the special Awakened class, would be secured as well.

What worries me is that the original author might interfere and make him rebel instead of submit...

I was fully aware that an element of uncertainty remained.

Even so, I had concluded that this was still better than allowing myself to be dragged along by the original author's plot.

"By the way, was borrowing these documents really the only reason you came here?"

I had just decided that, now that I had achieved my objective, I should quickly finish the snacks and drinks and return to my room.

That was when Reisir suddenly asked the question.

"Do you believe I came here with some purpose other than checking the information on Dremby?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"You couldn't exactly exchange something described as 'what I bought from Pret yesterday' in front of everyone else. But on the way back to the dormitory after dinner, you could have pulled me aside and asked to talk for a moment. Instead, you deliberately went back to your room, washed, changed into proper outdoor clothes, and came all the way to my room."

It was a reasonable observation.

Back in Chapter 288, when I asked Professor Bjorn to lend me the cooking utensils and ingredients,

I had said that washing and changing in my room, going out to eat, returning to my room, and changing clothes all over again would be far too troublesome and inefficient.

My dear readers were probably beginning to question it by now as well.

"Is that really sufficient reason? The thought may simply have occurred to me while I was showering."

"You said you wanted to make him pay for insulting you. There is no way that feeling suddenly appeared in the middle of your shower, is there?"

He had a point.

It might have been different if the confession villain had come up during dinner, but the subject had been mentioned at lunch.

It was only natural to assume I had been thinking about it all along.

Besides... that is the expression of someone who thinks he already knows the answer.

His irritatingly smug smile seemed to say, I have already seen through you. There is no point trying to deny it.

The excessive certainty on his face only left me bewildered.

I did have a reason why I could not pull Reisir aside on the way back to the dormitory, but I had no such thing as another purpose.

I am curious what exactly he is thinking...

The problem was that the protagonist of someone else's novel was wearing the exact same expression he used whenever he teased me.

A sense of foreboding told me that asking would not end well.

After all, did they not say curiosity killed the cat?

Of course, I was not a cat, but the meaning of the proverb was clear enough.

Excessive curiosity invited disaster.

So, reflecting on the wisdom of the ancients, I intended to dismiss the matter with a mere "Hmph!"

But perhaps he noticed what I was thinking.

The instant I snorted, the protagonist of someone else's novel began spouting an answer to a question I had never asked.

"Pret was supposed to come to my room last night to collect payment for the information on Dremby. You were so disappointed that you couldn't be the first person to visit my room that you came here because you didn't want anyone else to steal second place too, right?"

"......"

It was such absurd nonsense that my mouth actually fell open.

"Well? I got it right, didn't I?"

Come to think of it, I seemed to have forgotten to describe what Reisir currently looked like.

So, although belatedly, allow me to explain.

He was dressed in simple navy pajamas, and he had removed the eyepatch he always wore.

Now that he can control 【Truth-Reading Eye】, there is no longer any reason for him to wear the eyepatch while alone in his room. He probably also decided it would be better to start getting used to living with both eyes open.

As for why I had suddenly launched into that description,

"How can you look directly at my expression with both eyes wide open and still arrive at such a ridiculous conclusion?!"

I thought my dear readers ought to know that the protagonist of someone else's novel was not wearing his eyepatch before I confronted him like that.

"Aren't you shocked because I guessed the exact answer?"

"No! I was dumbfounded by how utterly absurd it was!"

"Really...?"

"Indeed! What does it matter to me who visits your room?! Why in the world should I care about such a thing?!"

"Because you seemed to place great importance on letting someone into your private space. I naturally assumed you would care about the reverse as well. Do you truly not?"

I wanted to deny that completely, but unfortunately, he was half right.

Letting someone into my private space, and entering someone else's,

had always seemed like something deeply unfamiliar and impossibly distant to me, so I could not say such an act held no meaning at all.

Well... yes... If we are close enough to visit each other's rooms, then I suppose it would not be wrong to say we have become fairly... close. Mm...

But that did not mean I intended to act childishly preoccupied with the order in which people had visited.

Pret had not even come here to grow closer to Reisir in the first place.

I knew perfectly well that he had visited only to collect payment for the information he had provided in advance, so why would I possibly care?

Even after reconsidering it, {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} the notion remained absurd.

"No. I truly do not care. Whether you invite Pret into your room, or Ríolíkin—"

"What about Sveinn?"

"Sveinn... is..."

"So you do care?"

"No, that..."

"That?"

The question, If I do care, does that mean you will never let Sveinn into your room? rose all the way to my throat.

But if I said it aloud, the protagonist of someone else's novel would relentlessly demand to know why, and I could hardly explain what Sveinn had done in the pre-remake version.

On the other hand, if I firmly declared that I did not care and the original protagonist ended up letting the original work's future traitor into his room, that would be disastrous.

"......In any case, I absolutely, positively did not come here to become the second person to visit your room! Have you already forgotten that I intended to collect the item and leave without coming inside?!"

I decided to change the subject.

"Hm? Weren't you only pretending to decline out of politeness?"

"No!"

"For someone who says that, I remember you entering my room quite readily..."

"No!"

"Really?"

"P-Perhaps...?"

"Puahahahaha!"

Since he no longer mentioned Sveinn, it seemed I had succeeded in erasing that man's presence from the protagonist of someone else's novel's mind.

But I did not feel even the slightest sense of pride.

I was only embarrassed.

Utterly, painfully embarrassed.