The World Mistakes Me for Terminally Ill - Chapter 104

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The World Thinks I’m Terminally Ill Episode 104

“Really?”

Ruone’s face brightened up instantly.

“Yeah, but you have to draw it differently. According to mother, that reinterpretation? is necessary. That Black Swan whatever is a 30-year-old work, but this is a present-day painting. Do you understand what I mean?”

Kai conveyed Elisia’s words while thoroughly searching through the unconscious Jon’s belongings.

From the street painter Jon’s belongings came all the supplies needed for painting.

Ruone picked up a brush and stood in front of the wall where Performance Hall 5 had been, lost in deep thought for a moment.

Being still a young boy, he didn’t fully understand the sentiment of the past and nostalgia for it, or the reinterpretation process following changes in trends.

But sometimes someone is born that way. Seeing and feeling something we cannot understand.

The young genius painter’s eyes sparkled with light.

“Yes, I understand.”

Finally, the brush made its first stroke.

“Ah! How delightful. Truly delightful!”

The Masked Gentleman admired the scene projected by the film projector.

The ballroom he had carefully created was crumbling, and instead a massive clock tower and an old city were rising up.

“To completely change the stage – how truly surprising!”

To think they would reverse the magic circle in the underground chamber and change the barrier’s background.

It was like an actor arbitrarily infiltrating the playwright’s scenario and completely overturning the play.

Rather than being angry that his scheme had completely collapsed, the Black Mage was actually enjoying it.

That’s the kind of being he was. One who could do anything for the sake of ‘enjoyment.’

“Audience, be amazed! Right now you are witnessing the ending of a play that will never exist again in this world!”

Whirrrr-

The sound of the projector turning grew louder.

The more it did, the deeper the gentleman’s mask illuminated by the light sank into darkness.

“Indeed, will this play be worthy of a curtain call?”

The Black Mage sneered.

Ahaha!

Ahahahahaha!

Laughter mixed with madness and ecstasy shook the space like thunder.

“Then? Right now? Let’s confirm? it!”

Whoosh-

At the same time, his figure disappeared from in front of the screen.

Whirrrr.

In the silence, only the sound of the projector turning echoed quietly.

After deciding to overturn the script, I pondered what genre to choose and made my decision.

“I’m going with a female protagonist solo villain story.”

Since the original script [Swan Lake] was a passionate romance, romance needed to be thoroughly excluded.

A female protagonist story without romance? Even a villain one?

If this were a real play, the theater investors would have been horrified.

‘But what can you do.’

Trends are created by those who lead them anyway. Even if it’s an unfamiliar genre without guaranteed success, you just need to make it succeed.

And I had sufficient ability to do so.

Since the narrative that created [Black Swan Lake] itself is dark, even with reinterpretation, that distinctive atmosphere cannot be hidden.

So I change the narrative of oppression and tragedy-

Into a revenge story.

‘I don’t know where he developed such tastes, but Erban insisted on adding details like a beauty mark under the eye, saying these things are essential.’

Trusting his cross-dressing experience(?) or something.

Anyway, the completed background was the night scene of a city from 30 years ago.

No need for a fiancé who pledges love then turns his attention to other women. The content was about a swan transforming magnificently into a black swan to seduce her former lover and lead him to ruin.

“But who’s the male lead?”

Erban, playing my subordinate 2, asked while spinning a dagger. He looked ready to slice someone’s throat immediately if I answered.

“That guy.”

“…The Host?”

Erban made a disgusted expression looking at the Host calling for me desperately from below the clock tower.

“My lady! Please fold those graceful wings and return to my broad embrace…!”

His face soured looking at the Host.

“…Is he really that unattractive?”

“That’s part of it. But narratively, that human is the most fitting.”

“Why?”

“There’s the human who was devoured first in the Black Swan Lake story.”

Erban’s eyes widened.

“You mean that scheming noble? No wait. That human already died 30 years ago.”

“Look carefully. His face is a bit different from the human we saw outside. The 3rd Prince Faction trying to use this painting extracted only the Host’s soul and possessed a blood relative with it. It must have been a kind of test.”

A painting that steals souls.

And possession.

Combining these, the 3rd Prince Faction’s purpose roughly took shape.

‘The Emperor lying in his sickbed. And the Crown Prince who died suddenly in the original story.’

Either steal the Emperor’s body to place the 3rd Prince above the Crown Prince, or make the Crown Prince fall on his own.

There are endless possibilities without damaging the 3rd Prince’s legitimacy.

Perhaps in the original story, they attempted this and failed, causing the Crown Prince’s sudden death.

I looked at the Host who had desperately climbed all the way up the clock tower with a disgusted expression.

Shubel, playing subordinate 1, grabbed the Host’s neck and lifted him into the air as he immediately lunged forward.

As if proving his superior leg length, the Host’s feet floated in the air.

“Gak! Gaak! Let go of this!”

“My lady, what should I do?”

Shubel asked calmly, showing no strain from lifting an adult man with one hand.

I gestured toward the clock tower railing with a bored expression befitting a villain.

The space below became open sky. The Host gasped ‘Heok!’

“My, my lady! Please spare me! I was wrong!”

Was the actor this desperate before falling into the lake?

I mourned for her and smiled deeply at the Host, curving my lips.

“Yes, that’s right. Repentance-“

I lightly pushed his forehead.

“Do it in hell.”

The Host’s face as he fell into the void was terribly ugly.

“Kyaaaak!”

A terrible scream came from below, but I ignored it and looked up at the sky.

30 minutes before the first bell of dawn. I could see the bleak city sky dyed in full color.

A scene like the aurora.

That was the color of paint. It meant Ruone was just before completing the painting.

I looked up at it and muttered.

“Now, it’s time for the third-rate playwright to appear.”

“My. Calling me a third-rate playwright is too harsh, dear actor.”

The Black Mage’s eerie voice came from behind me.

When I turned to look at him who had suddenly appeared like smoke, Shubel faithfully played his subordinate role and blocked the way to protect me.

“Shubel?”

I called him meaning it was okay, but Shubel didn’t budge.

I couldn’t tell exactly what expression his shadowed face held.

“…You bastard.”

“Ahaha! Please calm down. It’s still too early to reveal that ‘secret.’ Oh my, you look like you don’t know! That’s fine. It’s something you forgot yourself!”

What is this supposed to mean.

I frowned and looked back and forth between Shubel and the Black Mage, when the Black Mage chuckled with amusement.

“So let me give you a gift. I was extremely satisfied today, you see.”

With that, he opened a bright red box with an enormous ribbon attached, as if he were being generous, with a flourish!

From there, a black dragon doll popped out with fanfare. The dragon doll roared and breathed fire from its mouth!

“Welcome back!”

I gave up on understanding the Black Mage, whose brain worked differently from ordinary people, and asked sarcastically.

“Is that it? Your thoughts?”

“Of course, I was very delighted! It was truly a beautiful story.”

The Black Mage clapped his hands insincerely, clap, clap, clap.

“But there’s one thing I’m curious about.”

“Go ahead.”

“How did you fix the magic circle in the sealed room? That was primordial magic to begin with, something mere humans couldn’t possibly touch.”

Primordial magic refers to the dragon language magic of the Dragons, the originators of magic.

There was something that connected with what Erban had said when examining the magic circle.

‘This is a really ancient magical formula, isn’t it?’

‘Ancient?’

‘Oh, didn’t I mention it before? It’s a formula that was discarded long ago. I thought maybe you picked up some old book and copied it.’

This was also why Erban had mistaken the Black Mage for someone inferior.

Finally, as if I had been waiting for this very moment, I elegantly twisted up the corner of my mouth.

“It was easy though?”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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