Touch My Brother and You Die - Chapter 1

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

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#Cycles 1-22

In my first cycle, I was remarkably oblivious. It took me over a year after becoming Rosalite to realize this world was the setting of “Asterion of the Blue Starry Night”—a classic BL novel, the ancestor of all melodramatic, desolate love triangles and homoerotic tales. And it wasn’t until over two years had passed that I discovered Asterion, the novel’s protagonist, was my half-brother, only a year younger than me.
But this ignorance wasn’t entirely my fault. Asterion—or Lion, as everyone called him—was always referred to as Lion at the Mansion, lived in the servants’ quarters, and worked like the other servants. I never would have guessed he carried the Duke’s blood.
Lion became an official member of the Duke’s household on my second year as Rosalite, when the Duke—my father—finally caught Rosalite’s Cousin, a viscount who had been habitually assaulting Lion, and drove him out before formally claiming Lion as his own son.
After that, well.
I thought, “So this is a BL novel.”
I was lounging on my brother’s bed in the adjacent room—since eating snacks on my own bed made cleaning difficult—crunching potato chips with greasy fingers while scrolling through the novel on my brother’s tablet, when I fell out of bed, hit my head on the floor, and became sixteen-year-old Rosalite. In that moment, I lost many things.
My obsession with the lack of internet faded, and the anxiety tremors in my hands from having no smartphone disappeared after about two years. The toilet was a flush model, so living here wasn’t so bad, and since this was a wealthy household, there was even a system that provided hot water whenever needed.
The setting was more fantastical than expected—there were mages and sword masters to observe. Watching them was entertaining, and after seeing Lion suffer at the hands of men for several years, I grew accustomed to it.
Hang in there, Lion.
Since he was technically my half-brother by the story’s logic, and my attendants gossiped that they couldn’t acknowledge him as my brother—the child of the Duke and a lowborn woman—I didn’t interact with him much. But inwardly, I was rooting for him.
Hang in there, Lion. All that awaits you is degradation, melodrama, and a dog’s death, but still—hang in there.
I knew the novel’s ending. Lion’s life, which began with rape by his Cousin in childhood, ultimately ended in death. Tormented by men, worn down by suffering, Lion lost hope in life, decided to end it all, and took his own life at the beautiful age of twenty.
By today’s standards, that ending would be heavily criticized. Though I suppose it was criticized even back then. Anyway, it was such an old novel that I just accepted it.
And on the day Lion took his own life, I realized I had returned to the day I first became Rosalite at sixteen years old.
My vision went dark.

In my second cycle, I spent some time denying reality before settling down and convincing myself through sheer willpower. I know this pattern. I’ve seen this in novels before. So if I just keep the kid from killing himself, everyone wins, right? Win-win-win?
So I raised him carefully. His first assault hadn’t happened yet, so I caught the man who was harassing him, scolded him—”You wretched Cousin!”—and comforted the crying Lion. I pushed my father to formally accept Lion as family, fed him well, helped him build good friendships, and tended to him like a shepherd with his flock.
I was the shepherd. He was the lamb. I would guide you to a happy ending.
I carefully selected the finest man from the novel for my younger brother and rejected all the trash.
It was a good life. Good parenting.
I sent the well-raised Lion to his excellent match, wiping away tears with a handkerchief at the wedding.
That’s when it happened—one of the trash I’d rejected stabbed Lion, saying he’d rather die than let him go, then took his own life.
I
“What the hell.”
And before I could finish speaking, I was sixteen-year-old Rosalite again. Thus began my third cycle.
Before the words could even finish, I realized I had become sixteen-year-old Rosalite. And so the third cycle began.

After consulting with several tutors, I learned Lion had absolutely no talent for magic, though I discovered I had aptitude for it. But my own training took a backseat.
Lion was drilled relentlessly by carefully selected tutors my father and I had chosen, and by his twentieth birthday, he’d reached the rank of Sword Master. Then he fought someone stronger than himself, got thoroughly beaten, and that man pursued him, saying something about flowers being more beautiful when broken. Lion, humiliated, fought again, lost again, was kissed, and unable to bear such shame, took his own life.
“Don’t die. Is your mental fortitude made of glass?!”
Before I could even finish shouting, I was sixteen-year-old Rosalite again. I wanted to cry. What had I accomplished in fifteen years?
Before I could even finish shouting that, I had become sixteen-year-old Rosalite. I wanted to cry. What on earth had I been doing for the past fifteen years?

When the 【4th cycle】 began, I managed the child with complex care. I dealt with the Cousin who had tried to rape Leon, erased him from the family registry, cherished Leon, and brought in a combat instructor to raise the child strong. Having lived a life without a single defeat, I wondered if the child had become mentally fragile, so I sent Leon to the Academy and had them enlist in the Knight Order. Then one day when Leon turned twenty, the child’s belongings returned to me, and I had become sixteen-year-old Rosalite again.
By this point, wasn’t it inevitable that the child would die once they turned twenty, no matter what?

I had thought such things before, but the 【5th cycle】 was different. It seemed like Leon would die no matter what I did, so I half-gave up and merely raised the child carefully, ensuring they wouldn’t suffer anything terrible. Men were still hopelessly drawn to Leon, and every time Leon’s boyfriend changed, Leon would dutifully introduce them to me. Leon would probably die at twenty again.
I was idly wasting away when I came to my senses to find Leon celebrating their twenty-first birthday.
They’re not dying. This time, they’re living a full life.
I was incredibly excited and gave Leon a grateful embrace on their birthday, saying how thankful I was that Asterion, whom I love, was alive, and I shed tears and told them their older sister would do anything—just ask.
Leon blushed for some reason and asked for a few days to prepare mentally, and while I waited those days, I nearly got stabbed by Leon’s current boyfriend. I say “nearly got stabbed” rather than “got stabbed” because Leon took the blade instead of me and died.
The current boyfriend claimed that because I existed, Leon didn’t love him, and Leon said they only cared that I was safe—or something like that. But that didn’t seem important. What mattered to me was only the fact that Leon had surpassed the cursed age of twenty.

From the 【6th cycle】 onward, I simply trained myself.
I felt that if I repeated the process of raising Leon past twenty a few more times, I would master the technique. The point was, if I made myself strong, Leon wouldn’t have to sacrifice themselves in my place.
Physical training became meaningless once I regressed to sixteen, so I had no choice but to devote myself to magic, in which I had talent. While mana circles could only be expanded through time investment, my ability to sense mana, my knowledge of magic, and my experience would remain, so returning to sixteen would still be a profitable venture.
I could only use magic of a single attribute, so compared to other mages who could handle multiple elements complexly, I was unremarkable. However, the attribute itself had great merit. Lightning-attribute mages were rare compared to other elements, and lightning magic itself had high offensive power and diverse applications, such as using magnetism to neutralize armed opponents.
Usually, lightning-attribute mages showed intense affinity for lightning because they had been struck by lightning as children, but my case was unusual, according to the Master I revered at the Magic Tower. I speculated it might be because before falling into the novel, I had been familiar with electronic devices that used 220 volts, but speculation was merely speculation.
At the Magic Tower, I trained intensely in magic with the Master who would turn me into Pikachu, and on the day Leon turned twenty, I returned to sixteen-year-old Rosalite.

In the 【7th cycle】, as soon as I came to my senses, I applied to become a disciple at the Magic Tower and studied magic excitedly with the Master from the 6th cycle.

In the 【8th cycle】, I entered the Magic Tower and discussed magic with my Master. I learned this cycle that my Master was actually a grandfather over a hundred years old who stopped aging once their mana circles exceeded six, and had been lying about being fifty ever since. I was astonished. Would I also stop aging once I became skilled? Magic is the best. Oh, and Leon turned twenty, so I returned to sixteen.

In the 【9th cycle】, I entered the Magic Tower and studied magic. Magic is so fun. Magic is the best. And no wonder—magic? Electricity just tingling from my hands? I had never found learning so enjoyable, but Leon died like a sunfish the moment they turned twenty. Wait, I was just about to break through to the 3rd circle—don’t die! Let me just break through the 3rd circle wall once and then die, Leon!

When the 【10th cycle】 came, I finally managed to publish a research paper on lightning-attribute affinity with my name, Rosalite, engraved upon it to the world. The entire Magic Tower threw a party to commemorate the completion of the paper by the prodigy Rosalite that the Tower had produced. I went around greeting and receiving praise from many instructors who had helped me. My Master puffed up with pride and boasted everywhere that they were the one who raised Rosalite. Tears glistened at the corners of my Master’s eyes as they shamelessly bragged about me. Memories of the past years came flooding back, and I burst into tears. My Master, who had worked hard reviewing my paper and providing corrections, also burst into tears when I cried. We embraced each other tightly and wept profusely.

【11th cycle】
I returned to sixteen in the middle of crying during the paper completion party and realized this wasn’t my original purpose.

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Entering the 【11th cycle】, I had to set aside my dream of becoming an authority on acquired lightning-attribute manifestation and efficient mana utilization for lightning-attribute mages. I had to save the child first. No matter how thoroughly versed I became in theory, without surpassing the 3rd circle, I had no way to test it in practice.
Lightning-attribute mages weren’t that common to begin with, and even if they existed, they were all too busy with their own work to spare time for my research. Even my Master alone was incredibly busy, yet they carved out time to review and correct my paper. They were someone working on research far more beneficial to the world from a realm I could never even glimpse, so asking for more of their time would truly be an imposition.

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

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