When Han Si worked odd jobs, he often slacked off by reading web novels. Never did he expect that something like "time travel" would actually happen to him.
Just as Han Si fantasized about using his future knowledge to live a glorious, prosperous life like in those novels...
"What is your name?"
"Han Si..."
But from the very start, everything was wrong.
Han Si had somehow gotten entangled with Wilhelm II—that neurotic Kaiser who led the German Empire to ruin. It felt like pulling an SSR card at the start of a game, only to realize it was a superficially shiny but terrible character.
"That damned old man!"
Judging by all the clues, the person who sent Han Si here was likely the German elder he'd met at the shop. Was he an Alpine deity? A Rhine River water spirit? Han Si had no idea. But the moment the old man began rambling about that clichéd history of the German Empire, Han Si should've sensed something was off.
Is he seriously asking me to prevent the collapse of the German Empire? If so, at least let me reincarnate as a white person—or better yet, let me possess this mustachioed Kaiser standing in front of me!
What's with this situation?
Not only was Han Si still Chinese, but he'd also been turned into a child, like some elementary school detective. Setting aside the question of how a East Asian was even perceived in imperialist Europe, the bigger problem was: What can a kid's body even accomplish here?
And it got worse. Han Si sneaked a glance at the calendar in the hospital room—it was the early 20th century, 1901.
No way out.
World War I would erupt in just 13 years. If things continued like this, Han Si would be thrust into that world-deciding war the moment he reached adulthood.
"Hans? What a unique name."
Just as Han Si was seriously considering stowing away to America, Wilhelm II spoke up. It seemed he'd misheard Han Si's name as the Westernized "Hans."
"Hans"? What kind of lame name is that? It sounded like a character who wouldn't survive even one episode—utterly hopeless.
Unaware of Han Si's inner turmoil, Wilhelm II nodded and continued, "Are you Japanese? Or from the Qing?"
"...I'm from the Qing."
Han Si had no choice but to pick between those two answers. To Westerners back then, East Asians were either Japanese or Chinese—no third option.
"Hmm... the Qing," Wilhelm II murmured, his tone unreadable.
When Han Si said he was from the Qing, Wilhelm II's rigid expression softened slightly—though it carried a tinge of complexity.
This wasn't out of pro-China sentiment, but because he loathed Japan even more. To put it simply: the enemy of my enemy is a friend.
Timing also mattered. The Boxer Rebellion had just ended. This very Kaiser, with his meticulously waxed mustache, had ordered brutal reprisals against China after the rebellion led to the murder of the German envoy. His "affection" for the Qing was likely no better than his feelings for Japan.
Sigh… Is this even a good thing for me?
Uncertainty lingered. While Wilhelm II seemed to disdain both nations, his attitude toward Han Si was oddly ambiguous. It demanded closer observation.
The Kaiser closed his eyes, deep in thought. After a moment, he reopened them, resolve crystallizing.
"One who has saved the Emperor's life deserves nothing less than a grand reward."
Hm? Han Si didn't recall "saving" anyone's life, but it seemed the Kaiser intended to shower him with favors.
Perfect! Use that reward money to flee to America. Start a business with future knowledge. Let the German Empire sink—why bother playing on a sinking ship?
"Thus, I have decided to take you to the imperial palace."
"…Huh?"
Take him? To the palace?
"Hans, you shall receive the finest education in Europe alongside the empire's nobility. In time, you will become a pillar of this realm. Only then will your act of saving my life be properly repaid."
"Your Majesty, I—"
"Don't worry about racial issues. I'll personally fund you. No one in the Empire will look down on you, you lowly yellow man."
"None of that matters. I just want money!"
It's over.
Completely over.
Hans' grand plan for a new life in America had collapsed...
That wasn't even the worst of it.
Now, he was bound to the fate of the German Empire and Kaiser Wilhelm II.
The moment the Empire fell and the Kaiser was overthrown, his life would crumble too!
"Be grateful. An opportunity like this doesn't come easily, hahaha!"
Hans just wanted to punch him.
Hans wanted to slam his fist into the arrogant, mustached emperor's face—it was as if the man had no clue how Hans felt.
"Stay calm, Hans. If you do that, it's really over."
Sigh. Fine. Time to look on the bright side.
For some reason, Wilhelm II seemed to hold a shred of favor for Hans now.
And the current German Empire was a autocracy state masquerading as a constitutional monarchy.
So why not seize this chance to earn the Kaiser's trust, then steer the Empire toward victory in the Great War?
That way, the Kaiser survives, and so does he.
As for what comes after?
Just thinking about it made Hans' head throb.
He'd leave that mess to his future self.
Sorry, future me!
...
March 8, 1901.
Potsdam New Palace, German Empire.
"Has His Majesty still not arrived?"
"He will be here shortly."
"Ugh... What wretched luck."
Empress Auguste Viktoria, who had come out with the royal family to welcome the Kaiser, held her forehead and sighed.
It was an assassination attempt.
Not against anyone else—but against the Kaiser of the German Empire, her own beloved husband.
"Your Majesty, please set your worries aside."
"Chancellor Bülow."
"The assassin has been captured, and the Kaiser is unharmed. Is that not enough?"
Bernhard von Bülow, one of the German Empire's four chancellors who had rushed from Berlin upon hearing of the Kaiser's imminent return, tried to soothe the anxious empress.
In truth, however, Bülow was equally agitated.
Just a few months into my chancellorship, and already this cursed mess!
The drawn-out negotiations over the treaty with Qing China had already given him headaches, and now anarchists were causing trouble again.
The Reichstag had devolved into chaos, and the military was clamoring to purge all "Reds."
The chancellor desperately wished Wilhelm II would return swiftly to restore order, but the Kaiser had delayed for two days before finally heading back to Potsdam.
What on earth is His Majesty thinking...
"Ah, Chancellor."
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"I've heard the boy who saved Father is an Oriental. Is that true?"
At Crown Prince Wilhelm's question, Bülow's gaze flickered slightly.
He had tried to keep it quiet, but the news seemed to have leaked from somewhere.
Bülow, a seasoned former diplomat, quickly steadied himself and replied in a voice low enough for only the prince to hear:
"It is indeed true."
"Indeed."
The crown prince nodded.
"But why conceal it?"
If the truth couldn't stay hidden anyway, why go to such lengths?
The young prince frowned in confusion, while Bülow sighed inwardly before answering.
"Your Highness knows... His Majesty's views on the yellow race."
"Ah."
Finally, Crown Prince Wilhelm grasped the reason for Bülow's caution.
He was well aware of his father's deeply rooted prejudices against "yellow-skinned" peoples.
Bülow, familiar with the Kaiser's temperament, likely wanted to suppress media chatter to avoid provoking his displeasure.
"Could His Majesty's delayed return also stem from this?"
It seemed the Kaiser's pride had been wounded by being saved by a "yellow" man.
Given what he knew of his father, it was entirely plausible.
"The Kaiser approaches!"
At the attendant's announcement, everyone swiftly straightened their posture.
Soon, Wilhelm II's ornate carriage rolled into the palace grounds.
"Mother, is Father back?"
"Finally, yes."
Empress Auguste gently stroked the head of her youngest daughter, Princess Viktoria Luise.
As the carriage halted, Wilhelm II stepped down with the aid of attendants.
"Your Majesty."
"Chancellor!"
Bülow bowed deeply, and Wilhelm II greeted him warmly.
"I am relieved to see you unharmed."
"It is by heaven's grace. Ah, Sissy—"
"Father!"
Wilhelm II spread his arms wide, laughing as his youngest daughter dashed into his embrace. He was, after all, an unapologetic doting father to his daughters.
"Your Majesty."
"Father."
"Dona, Wilhelm."
"Do you know how worried the children and I were?"
"My apologies for causing such concern."
"If you knew, you should have returned sooner."
Empress Auguste chided her husband with lingering anxiety.
"There were... circumstances."
"What circumstances?"
"An unexpected encounter. Eitel! Adalbert! August! Oskar! Joachim!"
Wilhelm II called to his other sons, who stood bewildered behind him.
"Come here, all of you."
The princes tilted their heads but obediently approached. Once the family had gathered, the Kaiser rapped sharply on the carriage door.
Creak—
The door swung open, and an unfamiliar boy stepped out.
Jet-black hair. Dark eyes.
"An Oriental?"
Every royal face turned to Wilhelm II in confusion. Even Chancellor Bülow seemed blindsided, his expression strained.
"Hans."
The Kaiser patted the boy's back, urging him to greet the family.
"I am Hans Joe."
The boy stared stiffly at the imperial family, clearly unaccustomed to courtly decorum. He bowed clumsily.
"It's an honor."