At the age of sixteen, when I hit my head on a tree and recalled my past life, I realized that this world was what I had read about in a book. I had already unknowingly boarded a train bound for hell. “Ascal Deber.” The empress sitting on the throne called my name. Yulia. She appeared in a novel I had read as an emperor who possessed an unbelievably beautiful appearance, excellent swordsmanship, and magical abilities, but a terrible personality. She would ruthlessly behead any dissatisfied subordinates and brought the empire to the brink with tyranny that would make any tyrant cry. Thanks to her, Yulia would eventually be executed by rebellion in the future. Her loyal followers who served the emperor would also be caught in the crossfire. It’s safe to say, in a nutshell, that Yulia is the captain of a sinking ship, and I have to get off this ship now. “You’ve served me well all along. You’ve strengthened the nation and brought glory to my name.” Yes, I was supposed to be doing that. “To reward you, I’ll grant you the position of a prime minister. Even in death, turning into a skeleton, you will be mine.” It seems like it’s already too late. How did this happen?