I Was Mistaken for a Saint in a Dark Fantasy

[Do not call Schnabel a Saint. That is not a miracle.]

[Please do not trust the Crow Doctor. He is not the good person you think he is.]

This is a summary, as I remember it, of the novel I was about to read right before I died.

It was a novel I found while lying on the sofa after leaving work, browsing the Topvelpia rankings.

Since it happened to be on the rankings, I got curious and opened the prologue, but...

’To think this happened before I even read the first sentence.’

As you can see, I was possessed.

It’s not like I’d read the whole thing, or even left a 5,700-character comment.

For reference, the way I knew I’d been possessed was because my family name was in the novel’s title.

My name in this second life is Yulian Schnabel, and that family name was right there in the novel’s title.On top of that, my profession in my previous life was also a doctor.

There were too many coincidences for it to be a mere coincidence; it would’ve been harder not to notice.

’Of course, since the title has Schnabel in it, it must mean I’m the protagonist.’

Anyway, back to the story.

I was possessed into a novel that was a mashup of dark fantasy and fusion punk.

As I said, I died before I could even read the prologue, so I don’t know the plot of this novel.

In this world where divine magic exists, I even wonder if a doctor like me is needed at all.

But it didn’t matter.

Because I knew exactly what kind of world I was possessed into, and what I had to take advantage of.

’Misunderstanding and denial... and a Saint.’

It’s obvious.

Schnabel is a German word for crow.

It’s also often used to mean plague doctor.

In other words, the protagonist of the original work was probably a plague doctor who went around saving people while wearing a crow mask.

And the story was likely about the people around him misunderstanding him as a Saint and worshiping him.

How long have I been reading web novels?

At this point, it was second nature to figure this stuff out.

’Come to think of it, the platform this novel was serialized on was Topvelpia.’

Besides the combination of tags, title, and synopsis, the serialization platform is also an important factor for guessing the content.

That’s because ranked works are usually tailored to that platform’s tastes.

Obsession, anguish, and harem.

On Topvelpia, these elements are like salt and sugar.

Adding these elements allows me to guess the content of the original work.

’I’m getting a rough idea of the original work.’

It’s obvious.

The protagonist would indifferently wrap some bandages and prescribe medicine, and then passersby like the Northern Grand Duchess or an Imperial Princess would get obsessed, saying, ”You’re the first one to treat me like this.”

Meanwhile, the protagonist would be revered as a Saint or a Prophet, and feeling burdened, he would try to escape.

Then he’d be caught again and be forced to suffer wealth and glory.

In short,

’It means I can freeload through life.’

The feeling of injustice did a one-eighty and became pleasure.

Maybe dying wasn’t so unfair after all...?

I was in the middle of envisioning such a happy future.

Suddenly, a chilling hypothesis flashed through my mind.

Wait. If it’s Topvelpia...

’What gender am I right now?’

I immediately looked down.

...Thankfully, it was there.

’Whew... The Crown Prince and the Grand Duke won’t get obsessed with me.’

*

I turned four.

There wasn’t much I could do at this age.

Still, I decided to focus on what little I could do.

[Everyone is the protagonist of their own life, but—]

Tap.

A tiny, trembling hand awkwardly dotted a period on the parchment.

Fluent sentences, unbelievable for a four-year-old child.

But if this was to be the first sentence of the protagonist who would shake the world, it had to be at least this good.

’To complete a sentence like this as soon as I learned to write? Hah. Insane.’

This is the extraordinary first poem of a genius protagonist from a misunderstanding genre, one who will twist the world’s timeline.

Of course, I won’t be the one to benefit from this poem.

But hundreds of years from now, my descendants will reap the rewards.

Even if some foolish descendant ruins the family, they could probably get one extra life from this artifact.

’This is the Isekai-version Bitcoin.’

And so, I completed the monumental artifact for my descendants.

A few days later.

”Old Butler. I can’t find my tea-ting. Where did you put it?” ”You mean you want to drink tea already?”

”Not tea, wri-ting! No, the poem!”

Agh, my tongue is short because I’m four.

”Ah, you mean the poem? I erased it so you could reuse the parchment...”

I took care to write it on parchment so it would be preserved better than paper, and you couldn’t wait 500 years before erasing it?

Damn it. This goddamn dark fantasy.

My debut as a genius isn’t going smoothly.

’Sigh. How did I end up reincarnated in a world like this...’

*

This world was a bleak place where a mysterious mist called Magi twisted everything.

Because of the Magi that turned animals into Demonic Beasts, humans into Demonkin, cities into Dungeons, and forests into Demonic Realms, humanity gradually lost its footing.

In the end, after countless trials and errors, humanity chose to build walls and live quietly within them.

That was the entirety of this world setting that I had figured out.

However, in the year I turned eight,

a piece of the setting I hadn’t paid attention to came crashing into my life.

The original character, Yulian Schnabel, was an orphan.

That’s because right after he was born, his parents left for medical volunteering on the Southern Front and never returned.

So, from birth, I was living off the charity of Godfather Handel, who was my parents’ best friend.

But the bodies of my parents, who had been declared missing in a Demonic Realm, were discovered after eight years.

’And here I was, wondering where the Godfather had been going every year for the past eight years on his vacation.’

I heard that the Godfather was the one who found them.

Thinking his best friends’ bodies were somewhere in the swamp, the Godfather went to the Southern Front every vacation, and in the end, he finally found his friends’ bodies.

It was a literal testament to human victory.

”Yulian. Let’s go see your parents. Shouldn’t you at least be there to see them off on their final journey?”

As soon as the bodies were found, the Godfather took me to the Southern Fortress.

And so, after leaving the walls and arriving at the Southern Fortress.

As my parents’ only blood relative, I attended the funeral.

I couldn’t see my parents’ bodies myself.

They said it wasn’t a sight for someone so young.

All I could see were two blanket-covered bodies being pulled up from the swamp.

Later, while holding the funeral and collecting the bodies,

I discovered something interesting at the Southern Fortress.

”Mister, what are you drinking?”

”Ah, this? It’s boiled tree bark water. When you get a fever here, drinking this makes it bearable.”

It was the drink the local Beastkin guides, who were helping with the funeral, were drinking.

They were frequently drinking a reddish water instead of regular water.

”The Tirun Tree. Why, would you like some too, Young Master?”

”May I have a taste?”

”Here you are. But will you be alright?”

”With what?”

”It’s still something that lowly beings like us eat...”

”It’s what the people watching over my parents on their final journey are drinking, isn’t it? I was never taught the etiquette of addressing such grateful people in that way.”

”...Thank you for saying that, Young Master. Here, please drink.”

I took a sip of the water the Beastkin handed me.

The red water had a dry and bitter cocktail-like taste.

Just like...

’Tonic water?’

In that moment, words assembled in my mind.

A Demonic Realm swarming with mosquitoes.

A fever like malaria.

And tree bark that tastes like tonic water.

’Jackpot.’

I’d discovered an item that would let me freeload through life.

*

Quinine.

The cure for malaria.

By the standards of my previous life, it was a medicine that completely changed the history of Africa and Southeast Asia.

The reason the European powers were able to colonize the tropics wasn’t because of guns and cannons, but because of this white powder.

That’s because what was stopping their advance at the time was malaria.

Without Quinine, the map of humanity would probably look completely different from how it does now.

But the raw material for such a drug was in the water bottle in my hands right now.

’Calm down, Yulian.’

I barely managed to steady my trembling hands.

If I had my way, I would have started researching the medicine immediately.

But the world setting is different here.

Perhaps the disease itself was different.

So before I began developing the medicine, I first investigated the fever on the Southern Front.

And after compiling the symptoms, I was certain that the fever of the Demonic Realm was malaria.

Getting bitten by mosquitoes and developing a fever, which fluctuated every three days.

They were typical malaria symptoms, so there was no need for further confirmation.

’I’m already the protagonist of a misunderstanding genre, and now I even get a fortuitous encounter like this?’

I began to count my chickens before they hatched.

To be honest, I don’t know if this was a fortuitous encounter meant for the original work’s protagonist.

It might have been for another supporting character.

But now that I’d found it, not getting my hands on it wasn’t an option.

I immediately started developing the malaria cure.

Referencing the history of my previous life, the malaria cure was made from the bark of the Cinchona Tree.

Back then, African locals boiled and drank the bark of the Cinchona Tree to treat malaria, and the Europeans created Quinine by referencing this.

So I planned to do the same in this world.

*

And so, I turned nine.

I spent half a year simmering and drying tree sap to make the malaria cure.

Then I realized the Tirun Tree was different from the Cinchona Tree and changed my approach.

’In my previous life, the sap was definitely the raw material...’

In this world, the bark was the main ingredient.

Thanks to that, I ended up wasting half a year on a fruitless effort.

*

Ten years old.

After roasting and stir-frying the tree bark, Quinine was completed.

At first, I wondered if I should give it a different name since it was made from the Tirun Tree.

Tinin? Tiro?

But I thought that would just confuse me, so I stuck with Quinine.

If anyone asks about the etymology, I’ll just say my parents gave it to me in a dream.

”Well, the medicine is complete...”

It was complete, but there was a problem.

There was a limit to what a ten-year-old child’s body could do to supply and sell this medicine.

So I was pondering how to promote this medicine.

- ”The Family Head has collapsed!!”

Just then, the Godfather, who had returned from a southern inspection, fell ill.

Fever appearing every three days.

Checking the symptoms, it was a classic case of malaria.

’Holy shit. The timing.’

What would I have done if I had been a little later in developing it?

For the patient to be the Godfather of all people, right after I finished it.

Seeing this timing, this world is definitely a misunderstanding genre world setting.

I gratefully rode the wave of that convenient timing.

”...Thank you, Yulian. I’m alive thanks to you. Is there anything I can do for you?”

”Then I have a favor to ask.”

Immediately, it was reward time.

With the help of the Godfather, who had risen from his sickbed, I began to sell Quinine.

’Even if a kid makes something like this, the plot armor will take care of it anyway.’

This is why the misunderstanding genre is so convenient.

And a few months after I started selling Quinine.

The Godfather summoned me to his office in the main building.