_{Note: It is an edited MTL with some final touches}

Hello.

Dear readers of my imagination, I hope you will listen to my story even though it is sudden. Who am I? And what kind of situation I am in, and how I got to the point where I had to complain to the readers of my imagination.

First of all, let me tell you an absurd story, it seems that I have been reincarnated into the past. No, maybe it’s another world. I will explain soon why I am confused about it.

That part is also an essential part of the story.

Before I died, I was living in an Asian country called Korea in the 21st century. And now this is London, England in the 19th century.

Currently, it was a place where I felt more at home than I ever felt in Seoul because I have spent more time here than I spent in Seoul in my previous life.

I was born in 1855, the third son of a fallen baron family.

Due to my bad english, it was around the age of three that I started to talk, and as soon as I finally realized my situation, I decided on one personal goal.

‘Let’s live first.’

Victorian London? Is it the Belle Epoque era full of romance? You’re a noble, so you’re a gold spoon? You’ll know it if you live it yourself, but it’s absolutely ridiculous.

No, just imagine.

It was a time when the human rights of the lower classes reached the lowest point in human history due to the industrial revolution, and wars did not cease in various parts of the world due to the expansive imperialism.

Three generations of fallen nobles in such a terrible time?

Although it was a widely used term in the 21st century, but ‘aristocracy’ refers to a person who possesses the land.

I’ve never seen a document that smells like money in our house.

I did everything I could to survive.

As a native of 21^st century South Korea, I committed myself to study because I couldn’t separate success from high educational qualification

Education is like insurance.

Unlike the first brother, who lived a life of a foolish figure, and the second brother, who went to the bank for training since childhood, I was stubborn and got my college diploma.

As it was with the parents of the previous life, it was not enough for the parents of this life and the second older brother no matter how much I bowed my head.

First brother?

I’m sure he’s probably okay.

Anyway, I volunteered for the military with a letter of recommendation, as I was loved by professors and studied hard, as it looked pretty in college.

It was because I had been advised that entering an officer was the best way to build connections in aristocratic society.

Do you think I was used to graduating from college and enlisting in the military?

It is a misunderstanding.

To be honest, four years as a naval officer definitely solidified my career.

And surprisingly, it also matched my aptitude better than I thought.

I went into a battle and blew up my left leg.

If it hadn’t been for it, I might have driven a stake.

After being honorably discharged in that way, I decided to become an explorer after playing and eating for a year.

Is it absurd? Well, it actually was.

“It’s not difficult.

You just have to go abroad for two or three years and write out what you see in a book. These days, explorers make money, just like Charles Dawon.”

After hearing that, I went to the port the next day and decided the departure date.

Yes, I was ignorant.

Luckily, with my personal connections as an officer, I was able to get on a ship going out to the Dark Continent as a researcher.

Oh yes, this part was one of the different parts from my previous life memories.

The Dark Continent, which refers to Africa precisely, was strangely unexplored and remained an unknown territory until the arrival of the Industrial Revolution.

In any case, my reckless journey of four years of traveling back and forth between the Dark Continent and England ended when I got malaria.

After recuperating for a few months at my home, thinking I was dead, I miraculously recovered, perhaps I looked a little pitiful in God’s eyes.

Having recovered enough physical strength to hold a pen, I started writing several books by combining what I had learned so far with what I had seen and heard.

As a result, I had become quite famous in England.

Even the doctorate that I couldn’t get no matter how much I studied because of my low intelligence was recognized by my alma mater, and I became an honorary doctor. Thanks to the medals, I was able to receive a pension.

Thanks to the recognition of the honorary doctorate, requests for lectures came from various places, and it was also an additional income.

After such a busy few years, I thought that I had reached the age of retirement.

‘Maybe I should enjoy life a little bit now.’

I think I have worked really hard in this life.

There was also some luck, and I thought that no matter how many times I tried, I couldn’t do better than this.

I moved out of the attic I had rented and moved to an apartment in London.

…well, this is my whole life.

If this is enough, I think you should have known roughly what kind of life I lived at this point.

1895, the 20th century is coming soon.

And I thought that I had made all the preparations to endure that turbulent period and that I have now entered a period of stability in my life.

Until just yesterday.

Okay.

Then, the boring old man complaining ends here, and this is the important part.

Including the reason why I have no choice but to talk to the person of my imagination who may not even exist.

Where should I begin to explain? Yes, since it is a novel for a long time, it would be good to start as a novel.

It all started with a letter from my old friend, Arthur.

Hello, dear Philemon, how are you?

Of course, if you had raised a pound each time you heard your name over the past few years, the money would have been used to tear down the rotting roof of a mansion and build a new one with change.

Anyway, I guess I’ll think you’re doing fine

It’s not like I’m going to change anything if I’m worried.

Please forgive me for being disrespectful.

To write a letter to you, I bought and read a book like ‘How to write a letter without being rude,’ but you should be able to understand it.

I believe that you will not be interested in the weather on the day I wrote the letter or the state of the garden, so I will skip it.

As for me, I’m having a very busy day these days.

Because I made a significant discovery that would be crucial to the research I’ve been working on for the past decade.

Thanks to you, I’m screaming every day, a very happy scream.

So, I have no intention of sprinkling cold water on your glamorous and enjoyable life, but I am writing this letter because there is something I really want you to help me with.

To be precise, I need the help of someone who has the knowledge of a doctoral level, who has extensive experience traveling abroad, and who has the strong mentality of a soldier.

After all, you are just the right person!

For more details, let’s meet up and talk about it because it’s a waste of time to write a letter.

The address of the mansion is exactly where you know it, well, it’s not like it has feet.

Your friend, Arthur.

I was able to read the last sentence after paying close attention as if I was deciphering the letter that was written with a bad pen. I sighed and wiped my face at the promiscuous content of the font.

Arthur Frank.

I’ve known him since college, but even after 20 years, I’ve never seen a better person than him.

What kind of person is he?

well… If I had to describe it in one sentence, I would be able to answer it this way.

“He is a statuette with childish selfishness, catlike curiosity, and endless dreams. And adding all of that wouldn’t be as good as the enormous fortune he inherited.”

Can you imagine? It probably won’t work.

Having spent my student days with him, I often doubted that he was a character who appeared in my dreams these days.

He had sent me a picture enclosed in a letter.

I gave up trying to understand what the black-and-white photo meant after about five minutes.

It looks like a statue without a person because the camera was shaken and the subject could not be seen properly.

“Nowadays, there are also cameras that take pictures with the press of a button…”

I murmured and complained.

Arthur was weak against the latest culture.

He was still using an old-fashioned camera that won’t get a picture without waiting for a few minutes.

On the other hand, it can be said that it is revolutionary that a camera that can be carried anywhere and taken immediately within a few years has emerged.

The advancement of technology is amazing.

…As I was thinking about it, for a person who came from an era when there were smartphones, I was able to adapt very well.

“There’s no point in sending pictures like that,” I complained, flapping the pictures.

“Master, what are you doing?”

Perhaps she heard me, Marie the housekeeper, opened the door and asked.

“No, an old friend of mine sent me a letter, and he played a very mean joke, took a picture I couldn’t see, and sent it to me.”

“A picture you can’t see?”

“Yes, the art of taking pictures is terrible. Do you know what this is?”

I handed the picture to the housekeeper without much expectation.

“It looks like a statue of someone sitting.”

“A human?”

Mary asked back as if it was strange.

“It doesn’t look like a human at all.”

“It can’t be, wherever you look, it’s a human, with arms and legs.”

As I held the picture with my fingers, Marie wrinkled her eyes as if she couldn’t understand something.

“I’m not smarter than my master..”

“Oh, here we go again, just say it, I’m not a smart person as the public says, and even such a person doesn’t know anything.”

“But you know, don’t you always say no to me?”

“Please, what else are you complaining about, if it’s because you’re trying to make a catch pie, I’ll apologize, but I’ll never eat it.*

Marie and I maintained a pointless battle for a while.

She believed that I was someone with a very picky taste.

That was true to some extent.

I’ve already lived longer than my previous life, but the part I still couldn’t get used to was the food part.

I used to enjoy all kinds of modern food.

Eating the crude English food of the 19th century couldn’t be less pleasing to the palate.

“Okay. The reason why I think it is not a human being is that… hair?

It’s partly because of it.”

“hair?”

My gaze followed Marie’s finger her.

“If this is a person, this will be the head, right?””

“Right.”

“But a person’s head is not this big or distorted.”

I struggled to understand her words for a moment. And after a while, I realized something surprising.

In the 21st century, we see various forms of painting through various media, and we often get used to deformity techniques.

But in modern England, where I live, it wasn’t like that.

It is not that there are no drawings such as cartoons or caricatures, but it is not something that you would encounter on a daily basis as it was considered a low-quality culture.

As such, modern people have a much wider range of tolerance than pre-modern people to think that they are ‘human’ when they see the shape.

Even after looking at this inhumane head, it has arms and legs.

It’s a human being.

Like me, who was sure of that.

And, the person who made this was a person of the pre-modern era.

From that point of view, it is far more likely that this is not a depiction of a human being.

It was a completely unexpected approach.

“Surely it is… It’s amazing…”

“Master seems to be willingly accepting what happened.”

Marie said, startled by my exclamation.

With this conversation, I hope there will be no misunderstanding for readers in my imagination.

I am a very kind and open-minded person

…Anyway, offended by the monologue, I took the picture from Marie and put it back in the envelope.

“I’m going out now.”

“Are you coming home late?”

“It’s not close, so maybe. Perhaps, I will sleep out.”

“Are you taking the train?

“No. Not that much, I’m going by horse-drawn carriage.”

“That’s good.”

That’s good. What does it mean?

I felt worse and got up grabbing a cane.

Marie, who approached me like that, dressed me in a long coat.

I put on my coat and I put on a hat.

I staggered out to the front door as Marie saw me off.

And suddenly I turned around and said,

“When you go back…”

“I’ll lock the door well, and I’ll check the chimney.”

“Window…”

“Put the window rack on and close the curtains, right?”

Very upset, I slammed the door and left.

…again, I am a very kind, open-minded person to the workers.

I hope there is no misunderstanding

Anyway… I headed for Arthur Frank that way, and my life began to change dramatically.

And that’s too in the very wrong direction…

Translator’s Note :

Phewww….Now this sucked out the soul outta me. Even though it’s an edited MTL with a few touches, it still took around 4-5 hours since I had to refer to 4-5 translation sources for better accuracy.