Switching to a Reverse Harem, But the Male Lead Changed the Genre

Natalie couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that she was responsible for a considerable share of whatever had set him off. The thought weighed on her so heavily that she couldn't tell whether her food was going into her mouth or up her nose.

Had last night really been as uneventful as she'd been told? What if something enormous — something humiliating — was lurking just beyond the gap in her memory?

While she was still straining to piece her memory back together, McLane's frosty voice cut in.

"Since you happen to have something to give me as well, I'll accompany you to the village warehouse myself."

For some reason, it sounded less like an offer and more like a warning.

Things were awkward enough already without her being saddled with that man of all people. What she wanted to say was, why couldn't he just go and collect it himself while he was out? But the words died on her lips. Judging by the black cloud of menace the man was radiating, she was all but certain she'd committed some colossal blunder against him yesterday.

Her appetite thoroughly ruined, she was listlessly picking at what remained on her plate when McLane, who had polished off his own bowl in no time, rose from his seat.

Scraaape. The scrape of his chair cut the intermittent clatter of cutlery dead.

"If you're all finished, everyone up. Orlando, double-check that nothing's been left behind, and have the rest standing by for immediate departure. Now then, Miss Pereira."

"Yes, I've finished as well."

He gave a curt nod for her to follow and swept out of the dining hall. Natalie scurried after him, barely catching up, and asked cautiously:

"Um, did I... do something wrong yesterday, by any chance...?"

"No."

The denial came back quicker than expected, yet Natalie couldn't quite relax.

"It's just — I'm not a lightweight usually, but last night I blacked out strangely early. So if I did something while I was —"

"I just told you there wasn't."

"Ah. Yes."

His expression as he answered was so stormy that Natalie gave up on making conversation altogether.

She hadn't even done anything wrong — so why did he look like that?

She trudged along, shoulders hunched and face crumpled, until McLane spoke up again, his voice having softened just a fraction.

"Have you given up on it for good now?"

"Given up on... what?"

Given up on what? She could only blink at him, unable to fathom what he meant, until the man added in a flat tone:

"The romance fantasy ending."

"Oh. Right. Yes, of course. You were so firm about it, so there's nothing to be done. It's not like that's something I can manage on my own anyway..."

Natalie shrugged, deliberately feigning nonchalance. With the mood this delicate, she absolutely could not let him catch wind of the fact that she was still quietly waiting for her chance.

Perhaps her answer had put him at ease, because his expression softened considerably.

"I'm sorry, but I'd appreciate it if you understood my position as well. I'm hardly in a place to take the scenic route when a guaranteed exit is right in front of me. And I do need to get back to the company quickly..."

"Ah, right, the company. Of course, of course. I understand. Though it's a bit of a shame you happened to transmigrate into the male lead of all people — oh well, nothing to be done about it. I'll just have to find another way. Switch genres if it comes to that. Anyway, now that the misunderstanding's been cleared up, I hope we can get along from here on out. We're the only two transmigrators in this whole world, after all."

"As I said last night, you'd best abandon any hope of a Status Window. You clearly weren't someone who played this game originally, so there's no way one would simply be handed to you out of nowhere — and not right after possession, but in the middle of a playthrough, no less. I don't mean to dismiss your desperation, but frankly, you'd be better off thinking of another..."

But Natalie didn't hear a word of the man's speech — which, for once, was almost kind. Because the moment his sentence about abandoning hope began, a line of text materialized above his head — a sentence noticeably more complete than the one before.

"Hm?"

The word Favorability floating there beside his name — and the numbers next to it.

She didn't even need to puzzle out the rest of the illegible characters. Anyone could see at a glance that the message signified a change in affection.

Natalie furrowed her brow and sank deep into thought at this utterly unexpected turn of events.

Favorability, though. Could that game have been a dating sim, after all?

She racked her brain for her pre-possession memories, already fading into the distance, but the details eluded her. She had adored the romance fantasy How to Marry the Hero of the Century — devoured it, followed the webtoon adaptation religiously — but with the game, all she'd done was hear news of its release.

She vaguely remembered thinking, good for our author, raking in all that money. And that was the extent of it. She'd never searched for the game afterward, never looked up how it fared post-launch.

Still, if the developers had centered the game on the original novel's relationships, there was every chance it could have shipped as a dating sim. The title How to Marry the Hero of the Century practically invited it.

But as she chewed the inside of her lip and turned the question over, Natalie soon shook her head. Something told her it wasn't so.

Her doubt stemmed not from any memory of the game itself, but from the attitude of McLane — the man who'd transmigrated into it.

If this really were a dating sim, there was no way McLane — bent on maxing out his level and returning to reality — would have bristled like a threatened cat at the mere sight of her. He would have begged her to join his expedition.

Worse, he'd have come to her with a contract marriage proposal long before her family's finances ever reached the point of collapse. Who was she, after all, if not the female lead of the original novel?

It was mortifying to say it about herself, but Natalie could say with confidence that she possessed beauty so flawless that anyone, anywhere, would have clocked her as a protagonist at a glance.

Yet McLane had recoiled from the very words romance and love as if they were a contagious disease. Hadn't he actually pushed her away, accusing her of trying to pull some kind of scheme on him?

One thing was certain: the "max level" he kept talking about was not the max level of any dating sim.

Then why on earth had a Favorability rating appeared...?

And that wasn't even the only strange thing.

She couldn't for the life of her figure out why his affection had suddenly gone up.

Even replaying their conversation from moments ago, nothing came to mind.

Eventually, oblivious to the storm churning through Natalie's head, McLane was launching into one piece of advice after another about things that might prove useful for a mid-run genre switch, when she abruptly looked up at him.

Startled by her sudden stare, the man flinched and shut his mouth. For a few moments he glanced about awkwardly, gauging her expression, before asking carefully:

"Wh-what is it? Do you think you don't need to know all that?"

Natalie, who had missed everything he'd been saying while lost in thought, shook her head and answered with a touch more urgency than she intended.

"No, it's not that. There's just something I'd like to ask you."

"What is it? Ask away. I'll answer to the best of my knowledge."

His expression had turned more generous and warm than she had ever seen it.

It was an attitude so transformed it was hard to believe this was the same man who'd been needling her with barbs every day.

Natalie found herself suddenly reluctant to ask the question she'd been about to pose.

What if she raised the topic of the Favorability message only to make things awkward again for nothing?

After agonizing over her wording for a long while, she opened her mouth with studied casualness.

"That game you transmigrated into — its title is How to Marry the Hero of the Century, right?"

"Ah, yes. Correct. It was retitled somewhat when it released as a game. Hero of the Century Maker."

"Ah... so the name changed..."

Hero of the Century Maker. Well, that shifted the nuance from the original title. Quite a bit. Quite a lot, actually.

Doesn't that sound less like "how to marry him as your husband" and a whole lot more like "hero-raising sim"?

As Natalie narrowed her eyes, McLane, sensing that something was off, peered at her and asked cautiously:

"Why do you ask about that all of a sudden...?"

"Oh, it's just — the original was a famous romance fantasy novel, you know. So I got curious whether it might have released as a dating sim..."

"Ha. Not a chance. It's a fantasy RPG focused on character development."

Having never played many games, Natalie couldn't precisely parse what "character development elements" meant or what an "idle RPG" might be.

But one fact was crystal clear: it was not a dating simulation.

"Right. And if it were, you'd never have behaved the way you did."

Even as she nodded along in agreement, her mind remained churning, consumed entirely by the message that had appeared only moments before.