MTMP Chapter 2

Chapter 2

‘That corpse just now… was Russell Bolev?’

I wanted to deny it—it sounded absurd—but once the thought took hold, it kept branching out.
Black hair, red eyes, the white shirt he always wore loose and unbuttoned… the body matched the novel’s description of Russell Bolev perfectly.

His room being on the third floor of the duke’s mansion, the crimson drapes cascading from the ceiling over the bed—those details were exactly as described in the novel too.

‘Does that mean I’m inside the novel?’

The emotionless voice that echoed in my mind came back to me, and the likelihood of my guess only grew stronger. Was someone reading ‘The Trap and The Swamp’ right now, and I was somehow hearing their narration?

‘No way.’

Russell Bolev was the male lead. Even if—big if—this really was the world of the novel and I was hearing the narration, it didn’t make sense for him to be dead.
When does the male lead die in a romance novel?

As I crawled forward again, I slowly recalled the plot of ‘The Trap and The Swamp.’

It was, in a word, a deeply dark and twisted novel.
The female lead was essentially sold into marriage at a young age, and the male lead was obsessively possessive of her.

Not just obsessive—there was confinement, violence, and psychological manipulation.
It was so extreme, people in the comments even said the only way it could have a happy ending was if the male lead died.

‘Now that I think of it… did it ever actually end?’

I remembered getting close to the ending. There was a scene where the female lead gave up on everything and accepted the male lead. I had assumed it would end with a “merry bad ending.”
But while it felt like the story was wrapping up, I didn’t have any clear memory of it officially ending.

‘So are you telling me the male lead dies right before the ending? And at the hands of someone like me—an extra?’

At some point, I had become convinced that I was just an extra in this story. I couldn’t remember seeing the name Julia Reitz in the novel, which meant I definitely wasn’t a main character.

But there were still too many unanswered questions.
What role did Julia Reitz play in the novel?
Why did she kill the male lead?
Why had I entered her body?
And that voice—what was it? Why could I hear it? What was its purpose?

‘And one more thing.’

I was just a casual reader who had skimmed through ‘The Trap and The Swamp’ once.
I wasn’t particularly attached to the story.
So how could I remember all these details so vividly?

Especially Russell Bolev’s appearance and the layout of his room—those memories were too precise, almost as if I had lived them before.
It was also strange how quickly I was accepting the idea that I’d entered the world of a novel.

I didn’t feel like I was crazy, or stuck in a dream or hallucination.
This felt real.
That, above all else, I was certain of.

***

I didn’t know how long I had been crawling through the passage when I finally saw a light in the distance.

I wiped the sweat dripping down my face. The awkward posture and constant crawling in that confined space had left me utterly exhausted.

As I approached the light, I saw a stone floor through tightly spaced iron bars.
There were no sounds, no signs of movement.

Beyond the bars was a narrow alleyway.
At some point, night had fallen, and the dim glow of a single streetlamp faintly lit the road.
At the end of the alley, I could make out the main street, but there was no one in sight.

I checked my surroundings, then quickly removed the iron bars and slipped out.

They moved more easily than I expected—perhaps they were designed to be used like this from the start.

“Haah…”

I took a deep breath of the outside air for the first time.

At least it was night, and I was wearing a dark dress.
The bloodstains wouldn’t be very noticeable.

‘Now what?’

I’d escaped the mansion, but I had no idea what to do next.

I didn’t even know who I really was, let alone have a place to stay for the night.

‘The voice hasn’t said a word since then either.’

I looked around and walked toward the main street, trying to act natural.

Once I stepped outside the mansion, I became even more convinced that this wasn’t some kind of stage set.

Shops lined both sides of the street.
Some were already closed due to the late hour, but lights still shone from a few—mainly taverns and inns.

As soon as I saw the inn, the urge to wash up overwhelmed me.

‘I’ll need money, won’t I?’

I rummaged through my clothes, but all I found was the dagger I had brought.

There wasn’t anything that looked remotely valuable or could be used as currency.

My body sagged from exhaustion, and the realization that I had no place to lay it down filled me with despair.

Letting out a long sigh, I began to fumble over myself, hoping maybe the dress had some ornamental jewels or a brooch I could sell for money.

That’s when I suddenly noticed something dangling around my neck.

I quickly unclasped the necklace. It had a simple design—a clear gemstone hanging from a golden chain—but the sparkle it gave off was anything but ordinary.

‘Maybe this could actually be worth something?’

As if it had been waiting for this very moment, a pawn shop appeared as soon as I turned the corner. Without hesitation, I walked toward it.

“…Excuse me.”

It was the first time I’d spoken to anyone since waking up in this body, and the words came out awkwardly. A tough-looking middle-aged woman emerged from within the shop.

She looked me up and down in silence. Before she could notice the bloodstains on my dress and grow suspicious, I quickly placed the necklace on the counter.

“I’d like to pawn this.”

The woman picked up the necklace with her thick fingers and held it under the bright light, inspecting it from every angle.
Soon after, she plunked a single gold coin onto the table.

“This is it?”

“What, you want more?”

Her expression made it clear: if I had a problem, I could get out.

I didn’t know the value of the necklace, nor the worth of a single gold coin.
But one thing I did know for sure—people like her never showed all their cards upfront.

“Give it back. I’ll try somewhere else.”

I snatched the necklace from her thick hand, making her eyebrow twitch.
Just as I turned around to leave—

‘Tsk.’

With a click of her tongue, a few more gold coins clattered onto the table.

“Six. That’s the best I can do.”

“…Ten.”

“You really don’t know a thing about the world, do you, girl?”

“Then I’ll pass.”

I stepped onto the threshold again, and—thud—she added one more gold coin.

With a faint smile, I turned to look back at her.

***

“Ah, finally—I feel alive.”

After washing up and changing into the new clothes I’d bought, I felt human again.

I stretched in the middle of the small inn room.
It was the cheapest room they had, but it was cozy enough—there was a soft bed and a little nightstand.

I’d ended up with eight gold coins and three silver coins after a long, drawn-out haggling session at the pawn shop.

‘So it really was valuable, huh.’

Just one gold coin was enough to stay in this room for ten whole days. Meals were included—two a day.
That meant, by simple math, I wouldn’t have to worry about food or shelter for over two months.

I picked up the bundle of clothes strewn on the floor—the old dress I’d been wearing until now, discarded while bathing.

I planned to wash it before the blood completely dried.

It might be worth something, or at the very least, offer a clue about who I really was.

I started washing it in the leftover bathwater.
The fabric felt noticeably finer than the cheap dress I’d just bought—which made sense, given how rushed that purchase was.

‘The dress… and that necklace too. Was I rich before? Maybe some kind of noble in this world?’

Even if that were true, it was clearly all in the past.
The dress might’ve been made of good material, but it was worn and tattered.

And judging by what I saw when I bathed, this body had been through hard times.

My hair was a tangled mess, my face gaunt, and the grime running off me could’ve filled a gutter.

This wasn’t just from spending half a day crawling through a dark tunnel.

Every part of this body showed signs of prolonged poverty.

After wringing the dress and hanging it to dry, I finally collapsed onto the bed.

‘What should I do tomorrow? Once ten days pass—or worse, once the coins run out…’

As soon as I closed my eyes, a swarm of thoughts flooded my mind.

But before any answers surfaced, sleep took me like a wave crashing over my head.
I blacked out.

The scene warped and shook. The soft bed turned into a hard floor.

Just a moment ago I had been lying down—but now I was standing upright, staring straight ahead.

The world before my eyes was foggy, like looking through mist—except for one thing that stood out vividly.

Russell Bolev’s corpse, eyes wide open, lying right in front of me.

In an instant, the body was up close, nearly touching me.

‘Stab. Stab.’

I drove the dagger in my hand into him mercilessly.
I felt the blade catch on bone with a sickening crack as something snapped.

Blood splashed into my eyes, and my vision was drenched in red.

“Gasp!”

I jolted awake from the nightmare.