The Male Leads Are Trapped in My House

At fifteen years old, Nox learned a devastating secret about his birth.
The man he had always believed to be his father was, in fact, his uncle—the very person who had murdered his biological father.

Surprisingly, this revelation did not stir much emotion in Nox. He had no memories of his real parents and had grown up without lacking anything as the youngest son of the Marquis Ludfisher family.
However, it solved the lingering questions he had always carried: Why didn’t his parents love him as much as his two older brothers or his sister?
Of course, as a child of the Ludfisher family, Nox had enjoyed every right and privilege equally. But love, unlike material wealth, could not be hidden.

"I want to become a doctor."
When Nox declared this to his father, the man expressed pride. As the Ludfisher family was known for producing doctors, people naturally assumed it was an obvious choice.
But Nox’s decision wasn’t driven by familial expectations. It was for himself.

Nox had to learn how to take care of himself. After all, he was the only one who ever truly did.
Throughout his life, he had only envied his siblings in one regard: When they were sick, their mother was always by their side.
When Nox was ill, the best and most expensive medicines were placed next to him. Exquisite toys, carefully selected to entertain him, were arranged nearby. His bedding was swapped out for the finest linens, meticulously prepared to ensure his comfort.

People whispered that the Marquis and his wife spoiled their youngest son excessively. Yet, whenever Nox was bedridden, the chair by his side remained empty.
It was during those times that he began to hate being sick.
In his tumultuous teenage years, he not only despised being unwell himself but also loathed seeing his siblings fall ill. At his worst, he couldn’t even stand the idea of strangers being sick.

Because, unlike him, there was always someone sitting by their side.
The stark contrast made him feel small and insignificant.
His obsession with medicine likely began around that time.

 
“Carter, you son of a bitch, did you patch him up?”
One day at the Royal Academy, Ethan Duncan Lancaster confronted him.

Carter Dev Casey was the eldest son of the Marquis of Casey.
Nox replayed the incident Ethan referred to. A few days earlier, Carter had overdosed on drugs and collapsed, ending up in the school’s infirmary.
Unfortunately for Carter, his body reacted violently to the drug, triggering an unusual seizure that left even the infirmary doctors helpless. Nox had stepped in and managed the situation.
At the time, Nox had been deep in his research on anesthetics and narcotics, which enabled him to handle the emergency.

“Do you even know what that Casey bastard’s been saying about you? He’s calling you a pushover. Says you’ll do anything if someone asks. Why the hell did you save him?”
“What’s it to you? Should I have just let him die?”
“Me? I care a whole damn lot! That bastard’s been badmouthing me too, saying a savage like me doesn’t belong in the Royal Academy. He’s sent dozens of petitions to the dean demanding my expulsion, that son of a bitch. I should’ve smashed his face in!”

Ethan spewed curses, his tone coarse and aggressive.
Nox frowned. He didn’t expect Ethan to behave like a dignified noble, but couldn’t the man at least have some semblance of decorum? How could this vulgar individual possibly be the sole heir of the illustrious Lancaster Ducal family?
‘Carter might not be wrong about him,’ Nox thought, shaking his head. Ethan had been a model student when they first entered the academy, but at some point, he had completely changed.

“Do you even know how many people Carter’s killed by misusing that drug?” Ethan’s words made Nox pause mid-step. He hadn’t known that.
“Anyway, I’m going to mess him up today. Don’t you dare patch him up again.”
“I helped him because it was an emergency. Do you think I’d bother tending to his wounds now? And even if I did, what’s it to you? Why does the Lancaster prince keep barking orders at me?”

Nox smiled wryly as he replied.
As Ethan claimed, Carter probably did see Nox as an easy target. However, Nox hadn’t helped Carter out of pure benevolence.
Nox wanted information about the drug Carter had used. It was rumored to have been developed by the Casey family, and Nox suspected it could aid his anesthetic research.

Even so, Nox disliked Ethan—a man who lacked both refinement and class—despite his lofty status. That made Nox even less inclined to comply with Ethan’s demands.
“It’s not an order, it’s a request,” Ethan said, gesturing with two fingers from his eyes to Nox’s, mimicking a watchful gaze.
What kind of person made a request like that?

Naturally, Nox ignored him and shielded Carter from Ethan’s wrath. This set the stage for a bitter rivalry that lasted until they graduated from the Royal Academy.
*****
The moment they returned to Happy House, Ethan collapsed. His body burned with a high fever.

Despite his condition, Ethan had fought monsters and protected the group all the way back.
As Nox treated Ethan’s wounds, he marveled at how sheer willpower had kept the man standing.
‘Back in the Royal Academy, I collaborated with Carter for my anesthetic research,’ Nox thought bitterly. Carter had supplied rare narcotic materials Nox couldn’t obtain on his own.

In hindsight, Carter’s ability to acquire those resources stemmed from being a member of the Marquis of Casey’s family—a household involved in alchemy and suspicious experiments.
Carter wasn’t just the son of one of the culprits behind the apocalypse. He might very well have been a direct participant in the catastrophe.
“Don’t worry too much. I might really be immune, you know?”

Nox recalled Ethan’s words, spoken with a hint of reckless optimism.
Cherry and Ethan Were Fools
Risking their lives for others. How utterly foolish.

And yet, they had risked their lives for him—to save him.
Nox stared at Ethan with a tangled mess of emotions.
Just as Cherry had claimed, Ethan was indeed immune. He could be bitten by monsters without becoming infected.

But immunity didn’t mean his wounds would magically heal. It didn’t grant him some miraculous ability to regenerate.
Ethan’s body was shredded, torn apart by the relentless bites of the monsters. His wounds required immediate attention.
“You and Cherry... you’re alike in some ways.”

Both of them appeared pragmatic, yet neither hesitated to sacrifice themselves for others.
They didn’t waver. Even in the face of fear, they stood firm in their beliefs.
Nox acknowledged, begrudgingly, that he had been a passive presence by Cherry’s side all this time.

He had been arrogant.
‘That’s why I entertained those absurd thoughts of seducing her.’
A faint chuckle escaped his lips at the ridiculousness of it all. Pressing a hand against his chest, he tried to steady the frantic rhythm of his heart.

Thinking of her sent his pulse racing, so violently it felt as if his heart might tear through his skin.
“At this rate, I won’t even be able to hide it anymore,” he muttered with a wry smile.
One thing had become crystal clear through all of this:

Cherry and Ethan.
No matter what happened in this godforsaken world, he would never let go of these two.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door.

Knock, knock.
“How is Sir Ethan doing?”
Cherry stepped inside, her presence commanding attention as always.

A bandage adorned her lovely cheek, and her body was wrapped in dressings, covering the scrapes and cuts she had sustained.
Those injuries—every single one of them—were from saving him.
Nox felt a pang of guilt as he replied, “You should rest, too. You’re a patient yourself, Cherry.”

“It’s been two days already. Sir Ethan hasn’t woken up in two days.”
Over the past two days, Cherry had made constant visits to Ethan’s room, checking on his condition.
Watching her do this unsettled Nox. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but it did.

“The wounds are severe, and he’s battling a fever. But he’ll wake up.”
Cherry moved closer to the bedside, her eyes fixed on Ethan. Furrowing her brow as though in pain, she murmured,
“Ugh. With all those bandages wrapped around him, he looks like a mummy.”

A mummy. Hah. Funny.
Cherry often said strange things like that, words whose meanings escaped him. He chose not to dwell on it.
But her awkward muttering abruptly stopped.

“It’s not funny at all, really.”
Nox noticed something different in her gaze as she looked at Ethan. It was subtle, hard to describe, but unmistakably there.
Placing a hand on his chest to calm the strange tension building within, he asked, “Cherry, do you like Ethan?”

Cherry, who had been rocking her chair back and forth, lost her balance and tumbled backward with a loud thud.
Startled, Nox rushed to her side.
After rolling once on the floor, she grabbed her fallen hat, dusted it off, and let Nox help her to her feet.

“What kind of question is that?” she asked, feigning nonchalance as though the inquiry hadn’t fazed her.
But the crooked cocktail hat perched on her head betrayed her composure.
Seeing her act so unaffected, Nox sighed. Fine. If she wanted to pretend, he would let her.

With a faint smile, he regarded her warmly. “Just a thought, nothing more. Anyway...”
He decided it was time to share the plan he had been formulating ever since Ethan’s collapse.
“Cherry, even if this world is the result of some alchemists’ or scientists’ experiments, it’s still an epidemic. A virus. And I...”

His voice faltered momentarily, as though weighing his next words carefully, before continuing with conviction:
“I am a doctor.”
Cherry tilted her head, her expression curious.

“I know that. You’re a doctor, Ludfisher.”
“If you trust me, Cherry, I think I can accomplish something—like developing a cure, for example.”