SNBF 01

Chapter 01

“Is this the house of that saint?”
“Yes. They say she’s very skilled.”
“But it looks like no one opened the door…”
“Hmm. Maybe it’s not the right time?”

Early in the morning, I was awakened by the usual whispers.
Ah. Looks like it’s time to work again today. I roughly tied up my hair and stretched.

[Dorothy, why don’t you have breakfast first?]
“My stomach isn’t up for it. I’ll wake up properly while working.”
[I’m worried…]
[Yeah, Dorothy, if you keep skipping meals, you’ll lose weight.]
[Ugh, you never take care of yourself.]

They probably don’t realize that loud, chattering people are worse for health than skipping breakfast.

“Speak one at a time. My head hurts.”

Even though I could communicate silently in my mind, I deliberately said it aloud to scold them.
If I protested only in my mind, my voice would just get lost in their noisy chatter.

Suddenly, all the buzzing voices in my head went quiet.

[That must’ve been noisy. Sorry.]
[No…]

I sighed deeply and got up.
It was time to greet the guests waiting outside.

“Welcome.”
“Oh, hello.”
“You must have come from far away. Thank you for coming. Please, come in.”

Judging by their appearance, they looked like travelers, so I said that—but the three men and two women standing in front of me widened their eyes.

“Uh, how did you know?”
“You really are the saint…!”

No matter how I thought about it, people in this world really misunderstood things easily.
I ignored them and led them inside.

“Who would like to go first?”
“Me, me!”
“All right. The others, please wait here.”

This house had three rooms.
Opening the door, there was a living room full of chairs for waiting, and inside were my bedroom and the “shrine.”
Even though it was a luxurious home compared to when I first arrived in this world, I always felt uneasy.
It really felt like I had become the “shaman” I hated so much.

“What’s your birth date?”

Sitting across the table from the guest, writing with a quill, and being called a “saint”…

“Oh, yes. I was born on April 12, 964.”

[Born in the 60s? Must’ve had a hard life.]
[That would be right after the war, yes?]
[Yes. In 960, a neighboring kingdom invaded… It wasn’t a huge war, so reconstruction ended quickly, but children born over the next ten years suffered a lot from the spirits left behind by the war.]

“…You must’ve gone through a lot. Life didn’t go well, did it? It must’ve been so hard.”

Summarizing roughly what the gods were saying, the guest suddenly burst into tears.

“Sniff… Y-Yes. I… went through a lot…”

[Oh dear… how pitiful.]
[Really, they suffered so much. Dorothy, tell them to move first. That house has too many spirits; it’s affecting the flow.]
[No, no. Tell them to throw away the pendant at home. It belonged to their grandmother.]
[The pendant? I said move.]
[No, don’t be silly. The pendant is exactly what the ghosts feed on. Don’t you see?]

“…Then I guess you should get rid of the pendant your grandmother left—”

“Dorothy! Dorothy!”

While gathering and trying to organize the gods’ words, the door suddenly swung open. It was a devotee who often came to pray at our shrine.

“Don’t ever open the door while a reading is in progress—”
“From the capital… no, someone from the royal city is here!”
“Excuse me?”
“They said they’re here to take the saint with them!”

“…I see. So it has come to this.”

The time had finally come.
Time to throw away this shaman act, the buzzing voices of the gods, and reclaim freedom.
I stood up from my seat.

‘Shin-nyeo, a shaman must know the day she will die. On that day, she should stay home and pray.’

My mother had warned me, even though I had no intention of becoming a shaman.
But I didn’t want to be a shaman. I hated praying and the colorful flags my mother always waved. I even thought it would be better to die early from divine illness than become a shaman.

Yet as I flew through the air after being hit by a truck, my mother’s warnings kept circling in my mind.
‘Should I have just stayed home and prayed quietly?’

I had declared I’d rather die than become a shaman, but now that death approached, I wanted to live.
It seems the saying “even rolling in filth, this life is better” is true.

Park Shin-nyeo, 24 years old.
My name meant I was the first-born daughter—a traditional name with nothing good or bad about it.
I was finally on my way to the family court to change the name that had earned me a lifetime of ridicule as “Saint Shin-nyeo,” when I was hit by a dump truck and died.

‘If I’m reborn, I’ll quietly accept the divine possession.’

Though it was too late, I prayed to the sky for the first time in my life.
I knew the gods would probably ignore me, but I prayed anyway.
“Please, just let me live, and I’ll truly become a saint if I’m reborn.”

Then, I lost consciousness in excruciating pain as my body shattered.

“…Hey! Miss!”

How long had I wandered in the darkness?
I opened my eyes to someone calling me.

“Ugh…”

My whole body ached. Naturally, since I had been hit by a truck.
Truck…
Wait. Am I alive?

“Gasp!”
“Are you awake? A young lady can’t be lying around here like this—it’s dangerous.”
“Huh?”

My blurry vision gradually cleared.
In front of me was a foreigner.
Without thinking, I blurted out:

“N-nice to meet you?”

“Foreigners, huh?”
“Tsk tsk. Must’ve come from another country. How did you end up like this?”

The two foreigners, apparently a married couple, didn’t understand my English and shook their heads.
It was a language I’d never heard before—but somehow, I understood it.
I was completely stunned.

“Let’s take her to the guard post first.”
“Right, dear.”

Before I could make sense of the situation, the couple lifted me and put me into a small wagon.
The rattling, bouncing wagon gave me a sense of what this world was like.

“A theme park… right?”

A European-style street lined with quaint houses, small fountains with intricate carvings.
The clothing of the people walking around.
It looked remarkably similar to the theme park I had visited once as a child.

“Hit by a truck, and I end up in a theme park…?”

[ Dorothy. ]

I muttered in a daze and heard a sacred-sounding voice.
It was so clear I looked around, but no one was there.
‘Someone must be calling for a girl named Dorothy.’
I quickly lost interest.

Soon, the wagon stopped.
“Miss, this is the guard post. Go inside and explain your situation. Maybe someone knows about foreign matters, and you’ll at least have a place to stay.”

“Take care of yourself. Stay healthy.”

The kind couple gave me some instructions and suddenly disappeared.

“A theme park… right?”

I entered the low building called the guard post.
Could this be the information desk or entrance?

“What brings you here?”

A large man blocked my way as soon as I entered.

“Uh? Where is the information desk?”
“Information… desk? Reception is over there. You should go to the tired-looking brown-haired man over there.”

I quickly walked over, uncomfortable under his scrutinizing gaze.
The brown-haired man had a sign in front of him reading “Vagrant Relief Project.”

Vagrant…? Me?
No way. I just want to leave this theme park and understand what’s happening.

As I tried to turn away, the man at the desk stopped me.

“What’s your name?”
“Uh? I’m not a vagrant—”
“Name.”

He cut me off with a tired voice.
His eyes, staring only at the desk, looked soulless.

I answered reflexively:
“Park… Shin-nyeo.”
“Saint?”

At that, the man looked up.
My name was reflected in his round eyes. He stared at me quietly.

I knew my name sounded odd, but was it really that surprising?

“Ha… hahaha!”

The man suddenly burst into loud laughter, filling the lobby.

“Wow. Amazing. I’ve heard all sorts of nonsense from vagrants, but a saint? That’s a first. Impressive. A word from a founding myth. Hahaha.”

“Nonsense?”
“Heh heh. Take this document over there, and they’ll give you temporary lodging. Fortunately, a place has been designated for vagrants without names recently.”

He handed me the document and wiped his eyes.

“Um, I just want to leave here.”
“Then just turn around and leave.”

The man answered as if I asked something strange.
“No, I mean I want to leave this theme park. What is this place?”
“Guard post. What’s a theme park?”

These actors really stick to their concept.
I touched my sore neck and tried to calm myself.

[ Dorothy. Can you hear me? ]
“Ugh, who keeps calling Dorothy? Who’s Dorothy?”

I was starting to get irritated. Surprised by my harsh tone, the desk man whispered to someone next to him.

“…Senior, the Vagrant Relief Project doesn’t provide mental treatment, right?”
“No budget for that. It’s just starting, so just handling applications is tough enough.”
“Seems serious…”

What are these people talking about?

[ Dorothy. Can you hear me? ]

Wait. This sounds a lot like the voice of a god I’ve heard before.
A chill ran down my spine. Something was off.

[ You must be flustered after suddenly falling into this world. Calm down for now—]
“…Who’s there?”
[My name is Agatha. I’m a god who protects the empire.]
“…Empire?”
[This is the Manfelene Empire. And you… aren’t from here, right? You appeared suddenly. We’ve never seen anyone like you before.]

“Manfelene!?”

I realized immediately.
The Manfelene Empire!
It was the name of the empire in a romance novel I had read over and over. And Agatha was the empire’s guardian god.

The novel was an ordinary romance.
A countryside-born viscount’s daughter visits her relatives in the capital to debut in society, and a young viscount who never gives his heart to anyone.

What made the novel fun to me wasn’t the romance, but Emperor Theodor Elliot, the viscount’s long-time friend.
The emperor detested the Manfelene Empire’s overly religious atmosphere and, upon ascending, promoted the separation of church and state and a scientific revolution.
Elevators were commercialized, tunnels and waterways built. Trains and cars developed. Shipbuilding improved, trade increased, and port cities flourished.

The novel was filled with the excitement of rapid change, and I, weary of gods and shamans, related strongly to the emperor’s disdain for religion.

And now… I’m actually inside that novel?

“…Insane.”
[It’s okay. There’s no immediate danger. Let’s stay calm for now.]

Not only had I been possessed, but now I, who died trying to avoid the gods, was forced to confront them head-on.