I Flooded the Romance Fantasy with Dopamine – Chapter 2

Possession

***

A suffocating sensation.

Because of the disgusting foreign sensation clogging my throat, I, Kim Jae-han, sat up, hacking.

The terrible smell of vomit assaulted my nostrils.

Keok, kek kek!

I coughed violently for a long while, vomiting out whatever had been blocking my windpipe.

My throat, seared by stomach acid, stung and throbbed with heat as if it had been burned by fire.

With bloodshot eyes, I looked around my surroundings.

‘…Where am I?’

What I saw was a crude and old, but nevertheless, antique-looking ceiling.

More than anything, a headache that felt like my head was about to shatter overwhelmed all my thoughts.

It was as if a tube was being shoved down a goose’s throat and feed was being forcibly pushed in to make foie gras.

A flood of memories, things I had never seen before in my life, yet were so incredibly vivid, poured into my brain.

The acrid smell of blood mixed with the disgusting stench of vomit.

Drip!

Something hot trickled from my nose.

A sticky liquid from my eyes also blurred my vision.

I writhed on the bed, groaning in pain.

How much time had passed?

When the infusion of information that had been storming through me stopped, I understood everything.

It was the memories of Mikhail.

An afternoon spent enjoying afternoon tea alone with my affectionate mother, Alexandra.

A colorless, odorless poison.

The horrifying metallic taste and smell that pushed its way through the aroma and flavor of the black tea.

The image of my mother collapsing in front of me, vomiting blood.

After that, everything fell apart.

I burned with the sorrow of losing my mother and a thirst for revenge, but there was nothing I could do.

I had neither the power nor the connections to confront a figure powerful enough to dare use poison on a member of the imperial family, let alone find the culprit.

It was the inherent limitation of being the son of a concubine who was a former slave.

Despair turned me into a good-for-nothing.

I got drunk and rampaged every night, destroyed palace property, and hurled verbal abuse at the servants.

Eventually, I fell out of the Emperor’s favor and was exiled from the capital.

And then here, in the grand duke’s residence in my own territory, the Far East Maritime Province, I drank every single day until….

I died from my airway being blocked by vomit.

Having absorbed all of Mikhail’s memories, I, Kim Jae-han—no, I who had now become Mikhail—let out an empty laugh.

This place was the world of a romance fantasy novel I had once read, [Blood, Lilies, and the Double-Headed Eagle].

I could only vaguely recall the plot.

The saintess heroine got tangled up with the 2nd Prince, who was a bit foolish but kind, and while she was at it, she had some flings with other men, and fought against political enemies… it was a story like that, probably.

I couldn’t remember if it was because it was boring or because I was sleepy, but it was a novel I had stopped reading midway through.

In any case, I accurately remembered what kind of character this ‘Mikhail’ I had possessed was.

A pitiful extra occasionally mentioned by the male lead, the 2nd Prince.

A device to show the atrocity of the war for the imperial throne.

This was actually for the better.

The original Mikhail had wanted revenge, but I did not.

To me, Alexandra was just a figure in my ‘memories,’ and I felt no particular emotion for her.

‘Revenge….’

In the original novel, the culprit behind the poisoning of Lady Alexandra and the attempted poisoning of the 7th Prince Mikhail was revealed to be the 2nd Princess, Anastasia.

The star of high society and a powerful contender for the throne, backed by the Marquisate of Kimberly, the empire’s top luxury goods conglomerate.

Above all else, she was the great evil who ruled the empire’s underworld with opium and cocaine.

‘Go up against that woman? It’s an impossible task, and anyway, she’ll be stripped of her power by the 2nd Prince and the saintess soon enough, just like in the original story.’

When her corpse floated down the river, all I had to do was piss on it.

Revenge was futile.

Something like that was not important at all.

What was important was simply that the wretched and pathetic life of ‘Kim Jae-han’ had ended, and the life of the empire’s 7th Prince ‘Mikhail’ had begun.

A life where I didn’t need to give up one thing to do another, a life where I at least didn’t have to force myself to do things I hated for the sake of delicious food and a soft bed.

That alone was enough.

However….

I frowned as I looked down at the vomit soaking my clothes and bedsheets.

The room was filled with scattered liquor bottles and unidentifiable stains.

It was filthy.

Ting—

I shook the small bell placed on the table next to the bed.

It was an object enchanted with magic; when shaken, it would ring a bell held by the nearest servant.

A moment later, the sound of urgent footsteps came from outside the door.

Bang!

The door was thrown open roughly, and a young-looking maid rushed into the room, panting for breath.

“Hah, heok… Y-Your Highness! D-Did you call for me!”

The maid looked at the chaotic state of the room and my appearance, and a terrified expression appeared on her face.

Her trembling eyes seemed to be fretting over what kind of rampage I would go on next.

“Prepare a bath.”

“…Pardon?”

“Did you not hear me? I said to prepare a bath.”

My voice was languid and calm.

The maid grew even more flustered by this atmosphere, which was completely different from my usual shouting or verbal abuse.

She stammered, her face pale white.

“Ah, y-yes, yes! I understand! I will prepare it right away! And… and should I call for the Mage-nim? Or, perhaps a doctor….”

“That won’t be necessary. While the bath is being prepared, clean this room. Change all the blankets and pillows to new ones as well.”

“Y-Yes, yes! As you command, Your Highness!”

The maid replied, almost screaming, then bowed deeply and fled the room as if escaping.

Seeing her, I quietly clicked my tongue.

I could guess what a complete mess the previous Mikhail’s life had been.

***

A week passed.

I was writhing in boredom.

They say loneliness is a poison that eats away at a person, but in the face of boredom, it was merely at the level of caffeine or capsaicin.

“Haaa….”

The scenery visible from the window was still beautiful, but that only lasted a day or two.

At best, the delicious meals meticulously prepared by the chef three times a day were my only pleasure.

But that alone was far from enough to endure the 24 hours of a day.

No matter how much I slept, it was 8 hours at most.

I tried horseback riding.

Riding a horse and aimlessly galloping around the territory was refreshing at first, but I quickly grew tired of it.

Hunting? After going into the forest and catching a few rabbits, it felt empty.

Fishing? Sitting by the river and staring endlessly at a fishing rod was close to torture.

“Should I try reading a book….”

I frowned as I recalled the books that filled the library.

They were all uninteresting.

Abstract philosophy books, unrealistic chivalric literature, and stodgy religious texts.

There were also a few occult books that were said to be popular in the capital recently, but the occult in a world where magic actually existed?

‘I’m not a moron.’

The only things worth reading were literary novels or poetry, but things that required me to chew on each and every sentence to find its meaning did not suit my current state of mind.

‘Is there anything like manga or webnovels… something that can kill time without any thought.’

Such things did not exist.

Even if they did, the people of this world would not be able to accept them as pure entertainment.

They would probably designate them as banned books for being immoral and burn them, just like the old geezers who censor games.

Eventually, half-mad, I reached for a stack of documents.

They were reports regarding the administration of the territory.

But staring at the documents, which were densely packed with only text and numbers without a single chart, made my head spin.

In the end, I couldn’t get past a few pages before putting the documents and pen down.

This was torture.

I genuinely thought so.

“Haaa….”

Ting—

Unable to bear it any longer, I picked up the small bell on the table and shook it.

A sharp sound, mixed with irritation, echoed in the room.

Not long after, the sound of urgent footsteps came from down the hallway.

Even before the bang of the door being roughly opened, strands of whitish hair appeared through the crack first.

It was the middle-aged servant, Boris.

“D-Did you call, Your Highness.”

He was panting, yet he bowed his head with an impeccable posture.

However, an unconcealable tension and fatigue were present in his eyes.

The anxiety of what new rampage I was about to cause was palpable.

“Alcohol.”

I spat out the word shortly.

“Bring me something strong. Right now.”

“…Yes, I understand.”

Boris’s brow furrowed for a very brief, very subtle moment before he quickly regained his composure.

He bowed deeply once more and left the room without a sound.

A moment later.

Boris returned holding a simple glass bottle and a single glass on a silver tray.

It was a far cry from the ornate crystal bottles that decorated the banquet halls of the capital, which were in my memories.

Even the stopper wasn’t cork, but a crude object made by roughly carving a piece of wood.

Boris poured the alcohol into the glass.

With a gurgling sound, the colorless, transparent liquid filled it.

The pungent smell of alcohol stung my nose.

I silently picked up the glass.

And without hesitation, I took a sip, letting it slide down my throat.

“…”

Gulp.

A burning heat traveled down my esophagus.

And right after that.

‘Ugh.’

A nauseating aroma filled my nose and mouth.

It wasn’t simply because it was strong.

It was a taste that seemed to be a mixture of the mustiness of potatoes on the verge of rotting, the raw ingredient, and impurities that hadn’t been filtered out during the distillation process.

It was an unpleasantness like industrial alcohol mixed with the water used to wash a rag.

It was on a completely different level from the disgust of the diluted soju I had drunk when I was Kim Jae-han.

This was, simply put, waste material.

Tak!

I set the glass down on the table.

Rather than setting it down, it was more like I had thrown it.

With a loud noise, the glass shook precariously.

Boris’s shoulders flinched.

He swallowed dryly, anticipating the shouting or rampage that would immediately follow.

But my reaction was different from his expectation.

I simply looked down at the glass with quiet eyes.

It was a gaze filled with pure curiosity and disgust, rather than anger.

“Boris.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“This alcohol, why does it taste like this?”

My voice was languid, but it was as cold as ice.

It had a power that was even more chilling to the bone than verbal abuse.

Boris carefully opened his mouth.

“My apologies, Your Highness. That is the only strong liquor currently remaining in the grand duke’s residence.”

“The only thing remaining?”

“Yes. The high-quality liquors that Your Highness… has been drinking until now have run out. This is the best alcohol that can be procured in this vicinity.”

Boris continued speaking, his gaze lowered.

A faint hint of resentment was mixed in his voice.

Over the past few months, how many high-quality liquors had I, as Mikhail, broken and wasted while drunk?

The precious wines and brandies brought from the capital, and the finest vodkas, had run out long ago.

“Then shouldn’t you just have more brought in?”

I furrowed my brow.

“Isn’t there a train that runs from the capital to here? There should be a port as well.”

“Your Highness… about that…”

Boris trailed off.

He wore a troubled expression, like an adult who had to teach a young child the bitter truths of the world.

“Currently, the empire’s railways, in accordance with imperial law, prioritize the transport of strategic materials such as grain, coal, military supplies, and personnel. Luxury goods like liquor not only require a special transport permit, but the shipping costs and taxes are enormous.”

“In the case of sea transport, it is slightly better, but it has to travel halfway around the world, and… there is a chance the alcohol could spoil, so it is difficult.”

“The alcohol Your Highness has been drinking until now was fine because you brought it as personal cargo when you came by train, but… to order new liquor from the capital now is…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, but the meaning was clear.

It meant, ‘Because of the money you squandered, we no longer have the leeway for such luxuries.’

I remained silent for a moment.

I searched through my memories.

When the original Mikhail was exiled, he had taken a significant portion of his imperial pension in advance and converted it into goods.

Jewels, precious metals, and a mountain of high-quality liquor.

The memory of drinking them like water every day, throwing them, and squandering them all came to mind.

It made sense.

The reason was entirely my own fault.

“I see.”

I replied curtly and picked up the glass again.

And without hesitation, I tossed the remaining disgusting liquid into my mouth.

One shot.

“Keuk…!”

It felt like my stomach was twisting, but I didn’t change my expression one bit.

Boris gasped, watching me.

In the past, I would have thrown the bottle and caused all sorts of trouble.

“I understand. You may leave.”

“……Yes, Your Highness.”

Boris left the room quietly with an expression of incomprehension, yet relief.

Left alone, I looked down at the empty glass.

The smell of rotten potatoes faintly rising up my esophagus was nauseating.

‘I can’t live like this.’

A comfortable bed.

Delicious food.

That wasn’t enough.

That was survival, not living.

During my time as Kim Jae-han, I had given up all pleasures for the sake of survival.

In order to not do things I didn’t want to do, I even gave up on the things I wanted to do.

But it was different now.

I was the 7th Prince of the Empire, Mikhail.

If I was of a status where I didn’t have to do things I disliked, then naturally, I should be able to enjoy the things I wanted to my heart’s content.

‘This is just slowly dying.’

A life without pleasure was meaningless.

Boredom was a poison that gnawed at the soul.

In that case, I just had to create my own pleasure.

‘Should I try patronizing an artist? Like a painter, musician, or writer.’

I immediately shook my head.

‘That would take forever. It’s not just about the money; there’s no way there are people in this backwater village who could satisfy my standards. Even if it were a first-rate artist from the capital, who knows how long it would take for them to understand my tastes and produce a result.’

My standards were calibrated to 21st-century content.

It was obvious that the works produced by the artists of this era would, for the most part, seem childish and tedious to my eyes.

‘Then what’s left is……’

My gaze fell upon the empty liquor bottle again.

‘Alcohol.’

I just had to make it myself.

The alcohol I wanted to drink.

A perfect alcohol that met my standards.

I rummaged through Mikhail’s memories once more.

The taste of the highest quality vodka I had drunk in the capital.

The clean sensation as it went down my throat without any impurities, and the sweet and savory aroma of grain that remained ever so faintly on the tip of my tongue at the end.

‘I can make it.’

A precise distillation technology definitely existed in this world.

Otherwise, it would be impossible to produce such a taste.

The basic principles were sufficient with the knowledge from my time as Kim Jae-han.

Use good ingredients, build a proper still, distill it multiple times, and filter it well.

And this territory, the Far East Maritime Province.

It was a place overflowing with high-quality grains and potatoes from its vast plains.

Ingredients were more than plentiful.

As my mind was made up, I felt my head clearing.

I had something to do.

And it was something that I liked very, very much.