Chapter 2

“Wait a moment!”

“Yes?”

“Aren’t you Lady Clies?”

He knew me? I didn’t know him though?

Seeing my confused expression, he continued as if he understood.

“I heard about you a few times from Piote.”

You know my delinquent brother?

I tilted my head in confusion. The boy had a faint, bright smile.

He looked strangely familiar—maybe I’d seen him before? If he knew my brother, maybe I saw him when I occasionally visited the academy. But Piote and I always moved together.

No matter how hard I searched my memory, I had absolutely no recollection of him. There’s no way I’d forget someone this handsome unless my eyes were broken.

‘If anything… it felt nostalgic. Almost painfully so.’

I tore through my memories and still came up with nothing, so I carefully asked, awkwardly fidgeting with my fingers.

“Um… excuse me, but… have we met before?”

I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you at all.

“We met at the entrance ceremony.”

The entrance ceremony? I barely remember that. I’d gone to Piote’s entrance ceremony, but the only memory I had was getting lost halfway and suffering miserably. I awkwardly scratched my cheek.

“I’m sorry. I really don’t remember.”

“I understand. We only met briefly.”

He sounded understanding, but he visibly deflated with disappointment.

I felt like I’d committed some sort of crime. My conscience pricked me. It hurt. Actually hurt.

“Then… are you a friend of my brother’s?”

“I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Evan von Weiss.”

“I’m Lepina Clies.”

“Yes. I know very well.”

Evan emphasized the words, each one clipped. I blinked slowly.

He was obviously thrilled to meet me, which made me feel strangely proud—like I’d become someone important.

My past self at that entrance ceremony… what the hell did you do? And why didn’t you remember a face like this? I wanted to smack my own forehead but kept smiling politely like a proper young lady.

Evan…

He introduced himself as Piote’s friend, but I had no memory of hearing his name.

I flipped through the list of my brother’s acquaintances in my head, but there was no “Evan von Weiss.” Actually—come to think of it—Piote never mentioned a single friend.

His letters were always full of bragging about what he’d accomplished that day, or how he missed me. There was never any mention of friends.

The realization hit me like a migraine.

‘Don’t tell me… he has no friends.’

My body wobbled.

My brother? A loner? Impossible. He’s rough around the edges, but he’s kind and warm-hearted.

But at least one person stood here calling himself Piote’s friend. That alone was comforting. I let out a relieved sigh.

“Yes, Lord Weiss.”

I handed him the sword he’d been holding.

“Here. Take it.”

Take care of my brother.

I swallowed the words.

But Evan shook his head, insisting I take it instead. We ended up tugging the sword back and forth. Evan insisted ladies should have it first; I insisted I didn’t want it and pushed it back at him.

“It’s fine, really. I was planning to buy this as a gift for my brother anyway. If you don’t like it, I can just pick something else. Do you simply not like the sword?”

“Well, still…”

“Then just take it. My arm hurts.”

At that, Evan quickly accepted the sword. Should’ve said that from the start.

Honestly, I’d picked it up without much thought. It was filthy, the blade was dull—looked like something dug up from ancient ruins. I only wanted to examine it for fun.

And yes—my shoulder really was aching. I was born weak, and my personal doctor constantly nagged me not to overdo things. High fevers were practically my childhood best friend.

I’m older now and my immune system’s decent, but if I held the sword much longer, I would’ve felt it.

“You’re very kind. I think I’ll remember you every time I look at this sword.”

Evan gripped the sword tightly and smiled radiantly.

‘Ah—too bright. My eyes.’

He went to the counter to pay. I watched from behind.

Why did this feel familiar?

‘That scene… doesn’t feel new at all…’

A sudden image flashed through my mind—

A silver-haired man raising a green-glowing sword.

Evan von Weiss.

Two clues snapped together.

A thunderbolt struck inside my skull.

‘I remember!!’

I wanted to shout “Eureka.”

How could I not have realized sooner?

This was the world of the otome game I used to be obsessed with.

Back when I’d sworn off real romance and swore 2D love was enough—when I’d pulled all-nighters playing otome games nonstop.

He was the character I adored.

There was no mistake.

The face I’d practically worshipped was right in front of me.

No wonder he looked familiar—I’d fallen asleep every night hugging his body pillow.

The memory sharpened like a blade cutting through fog.

And that sword. THAT sword. His signature sword—found in ancient ruins, with a wind spirit sealed inside.

He was already an excellent swordsman, but once he obtained that weapon, his strength skyrocketed. He could summon spirits and master mana flow, earning the title of youngest Swordmaster.

Swordmaster, heir to a ducal house, beloved by players.

And the face… the face was on another level entirely.

He only got hotter as he aged—ruined-smile, dangerous charm, sharp muscles from sword training. I’d clutched my chest more than once at his CGs.

Especially that beach illustration. I practically bled from the nose.

And now he was in front of me. Alive. Breathing.

“Um… Lady Lepina?”

Evan had finished paying and waved at me, but none of that mattered anymore.

‘Right. This is the world of <Grow Love>…’

Then a question hit me.

I knew that world inside-out from countless playthroughs.

So who was I?

I dug through my memory.

The player character was a commoner apothecary. But I was a noble lady. Lady of the Clies family.

‘Clies…’

And then it struck me like a divine slap.

My brother Piote was also a capture target.

And I was his sister.

And his sister’s major story point was—

‘She’s terminally ill.’

My vision spun. My knees gave out. I collapsed.

‘I’m terminally ill…?’

My peaceful reality shattered instantly.

‘How did she end up terminal again…?’

I cursed my past self for ignoring NPC lore.

Before I knew it, I fainted.

The last thing I saw was Evan desperately calling my name.

‘At least I got to see my favorite character…’

***

<Grow Love> was the name of the reverse–harem game. “Grow Love” meaning growing love, but also because the player is an herbalist who grows herbs, brews medicines, and runs a healing shop. It’s a mix of romance and management gameplay.

And among the capture targets—

One was my brother, Piote Clies. He hires the heroine, a talented herbalist, as his sister’s physician.

The sister being me.

And if I remembered correctly, she ingested a poisonous herb as a child—the Alosi Poison Herb.

A horrifying herb that slowly rots the organs and leads to death.

Lepina had eaten only a small amount, and constant medicinal herbs kept the poison at bay.

But unless the poison was completely removed, she lived in constant danger.

Piote poured everything into saving her—so much that the family finances nearly collapsed.

Everyone told him to let her go. He refused.

He visited every famous healer and funded them lavishly.

That’s how he eventually hired the player.

Piote’s route began with hiring the heroine to save his terminally ill sister.

And the cure for Alosi Poison Herb required maxing out every knowledge stat, choosing perfect dialogue options, gathering rare lore—an absolute nightmare to reach.

Bottom line—

My future was set to: poisoned, terminally ill, and on borrowed time.

All for the sake of the heroine’s love story.

I dropped into despair.

Sure, maybe my brother wouldn’t even be chosen by the heroine. They might live happily ever after—I wouldn’t complain.

But why should my life be the cost?

Who decided I had to die?

I refuse to be terminally ill.

I’m going to live well, live long, and stay alive.

To hell with this game.