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CHAPTER 03
“…If that was the case, she should’ve just stopped at a reasonable point and moved on.”
Recalling her first encounter with Noella, Adele pressed her pen down hard on the paper in irritation.
According to the original story, Noella—the younger sister and villainess—met her end at a young age. No, actually, calling her young felt too generous—she was practically a child when she died.
The end of a villain. The crown jewel of a trashy drama. A terminal illness.
Honestly, was there an easier way to be written off?
In novels, only the protagonist gets away with everything. Which means, if you’re not the protagonist, there’s no need to be particularly kind or warm.
Thus, even the good deeds from Noella’s heroine days were dissected and reinterpreted, earning her the title of “conspiracy theorist’s ultimate example.”
Apparently, the plague from three years ago? Also her fault. The volcanic eruption from ten years ago? Yep, Noella again.
The theory that Noella was secretly a demon lord was so widespread in the comments section, you’d think there wasn’t a single misdeed in the empire that didn’t have her fingerprints on it.
The ending was as dramatic as the accusations.
Blackmail, false accusations, inciting assault, even murder—her list of crimes was almost absurd.
Cursed by heaven with a terminal illness, Noella suffered excruciating pain that felt like her body was on fire before dying a lonely death.
Adele hadn’t read the final chapter, but according to the comments, her blood had soaked the bed.
“No sincerity, none at all.”
Adele clicked her tongue. No matter what, did they really have to kill off a former heroine in such a brutal way?
From one angle, it was a merciless decision. But as the heir to the Sergio family, it was also a relief.
If things had gone differently, she might’ve had to stain her own hands to protect the family.
“It couldn’t be helped.”
If only Noella had held onto her protagonist role from the beginning, things could’ve ended happily for both of them.
Adele wasn’t completely heartless. As her older sister, she did feel some pity over Noella’s tragic fate.
She’d even tried several times to divert her from that destiny, hoping she could just live an ordinary life as a rich girl—but Noella had eagerly walked the path of the elite villainess.
In that regard, she was practically a prodigy. Despite never being taught, she climbed the ranks of evil with methodical precision.
At age ten, she accused three servants of theft just for not doing as she wanted. At twelve, she led a bullying campaign that forced a peer to drop out of the academy.
Even Caidyn, who shared the same origins as her, nearly died multiple times thanks to Noella—though she was too young to realize it.
“Stupid girl. Do you even know how amazing it is to be a chaebol’s daughter? And all that for some guy?”
She had crossed the river of no return. No saving her now.
Worse, every time Adele tried to pull her back on track, something bad happened to the merchant guild. At this point, Adele was half-convinced it was a divine curse for defying fate.
“Sorry, but I don’t want to fix you that badly.”
If someone told Adele to choose between a villainous younger sister and being a chaebol’s daughter, she’d obviously choose the latter.
Still, she intended to do her duty as an older sister in the most minimal way. The girl wasn’t going to live much longer anyway.
According to the original timeline, Noella had about one year left to live.
Whatever she did in that time, Adele figured she could clean up the mess. Not personally, of course—the money would take care of it.
If there was ever a time to use her “chaebol daughter privilege,” this was it. Adele firmly believed that 99% of the world’s problems could be solved with enough money.
“…But Noella, it’s going to be a problem if you start eyeing what’s mine.”
That remaining 1% of problems came from Noella’s lack of gratitude and self-awareness.
Up until now, she’d been burning with hostility toward Caidyn, who shared her birth origin, but always bowed her head and wagged her tail toward Adele, the designated heir.
“I-I had no idea Zerox oppa had feelings for me. I really didn’t! Sniff.”
What a joke. As if she didn’t know.
It was common knowledge within the guild that Zerox was waiting for Adele.
No matter how innocently she cried, to Adele, it was nothing more than a cheap performance.
What bothered her was the possibility that the villainess had a change of heart.
Was she finally starting to activate?
Was this the moment of her evolution?
“Hmm.”
Furrowing her brows in thought, Adele eventually let out a smirk. So what if Noella was up to something?
“This entire guild will be mine anyway.”
As busy as she already was, there was no need for an heir to stress over petty matters.
It would be much more productive to plan how to make a lasting impression at tomorrow’s annual guild banquet.
Thinking of the guests who’d arrive, Adele went to bed early.
And it didn’t even take a full day for her to realize how careless she’d been03
Like in any other common story, Adele remembered her past life.
To be honest, she hadn’t been particularly happy in that previous life. It’s not even worth going into the whole sob story—just call it what it was: a textbook dirt spoon life in South Korea.
She hadn’t received a single cent of financial support, but managed to get into a good university despite her difficult circumstances. That part was commendable—but still, a dirt spoon is a dirt spoon.
No matter how delicious the food is, if you scoop it with a dirt spoon, all you taste is dirt.
So what if she landed a job at a major conglomerate? No matter how hard she worked, no one ever gave her any credit.
Even the results she’d achieved after months of sleepless nights—predictably—went to a parachuted-in department head. Supposedly… the chairman’s granddaughter.
She finally snapped and confronted her while drunk, only for the woman to smile sympathetically and say:
“I get that you’re upset… but why are you yelling at me? Shouldn’t you be blaming the parents who gave birth to you?”
Ah, this filthy world.
Furious beyond reason, she drank herself stupid and staggered toward the riverbank.
The real reason she was angry wasn’t because the parachuted-in manager insulted her parents—it was because she couldn’t deny what she said.
Why? If she said something, she’d get fired. And then who would be responsible?
The giant corporation she’d spent 16 years preparing to enter—from elementary school to university—had the power to silence even the fiercest rage with a single, suffocating truth.
Sometimes, when people couldn’t swallow that bitter pill, they’d shout, “I quit this damn company!” But a few months later, they’d be sending out startup promo texts that began with “You’ve never tasted anything like this before.”
And let’s be real—everything that woman said was true.
No matter how many Korean dramas you watched, the dirt spoon employee at best might rise to the rank of department head.
Once in a blue moon, someone might make it to executive level—but even then, it took bribery, favors, and sometimes even murder to get there. And once they did, they were always the first to take the fall when something went wrong.
Marrying into a wealthy family was another route—but those marriages were rarely healthy. The rich love interest was almost always the kind who’d throw away their longtime partner for convenience.
In short, people from that world and people from this world live in completely different universes. Even if they breathe the same air and live under the same sky, there’s a firm, invisible line dividing the two.
Just like how the chairman’s granddaughter could be seated in a high-ranking position without ever taking an aptitude test, while she got her hard-earned work stolen and couldn’t say a word about it.
“I could do a good job too! Just give me a chance!”
She shouted from atop a bridge. If she was going to keep her job and pretend nothing had happened the next day, she had to vent somehow.
“If you’d sent me abroad to study, I wouldn’t have touched drugs or weed—I would’ve just studied! I would’ve gone on blind dates and married whoever you wanted me to, and I’d have lived a decent life!”
Once the dam broke, all her pent-up frustration poured out.
She shouted into the dark river below as if exorcising her resentment.
“I want to fight over inheritance, not side dishes! I want that sweet family tension! I want to have a sibling rivalry!”
The fantasy she had always dreamed of lured her one step forward. Even as her body stumbled and teetered from a misstep, another bitter cry escaped her lips:
“So please, let me be a chaebol’s daughter just once!”
That was supposed to be the end of it—a wild night of venting before another dirty but bearable day.
But she never opened her eyes again.
At least, not in South Korea.
“My Lord, come look at the baby’s eyes. They’ll surely turn pink!”
When she regained consciousness, the first voice she heard wasn’t scolding her for being late without notice.
In front of her, a white woman beamed with joy and excitement.
…What’s going on? This isn’t someplace just anyone can enter.
…How do you say that in English again?
She instinctively tried to push the woman away—only to panic at the sight of her own flailing arms in the air.
What the heck?
Why won’t my hands move properly? Wait, are these even my hands?
Gasp!
They were tiny. Incredibly tiny. She froze, unable to breathe. She remembered staggering after drinking—but this? This was beyond comprehension.
And then came the real shock—her own voice.
“Waaaah!”
A cry burst out of her mouth instead of words.
Why am I crying?
Sure, she felt like crying, but this was way too dramatic.
The more she panicked, the louder she cried. She cried because the situation was insane, and also because she might get fired for not showing up at work.
Then, a man appeared, leaning in close to her.
“Certainly. Those eyes are perfect for business.”
A strikingly handsome man. And he reeked—of money.
Being a true capitalist to the bone, her flailing arms immediately calmed, and the crying stopped at once. It was instinctual.
The man chuckled, amused.
“Adelaide. That is your name.”
Just as she was about to cry again at having her name assigned so arbitrarily, her attention shifted—to the massive ring on his finger.
Wait a sec… I’ve seen that before.
A black ring with an eagle’s wings delicately engraved, and sparkling diamond eyes.
It looked like something out of a fantasy novel. And it wasn’t unfamiliar. That ring had shown up in the very novel she was reading just days ago.
The description had been so vivid—she could never mistake it.
“She stroked the ring again and again, trying to suppress the fury rising in her chest. The Sergio family’s eagle, carved with eighteen feathers, glinted with diamond eyes.”
Yes. That was it.
Let’s count. One, two, three…
The newborn, eyes barely able to focus, fixated on the man’s ring.
Laughter bubbled up around her.
“Oh my, Count. Look at our young lady. She must really like your ring.”
“Indeed. Just like my daughter should.”
Hearing that satisfied voice snapped her to attention.
She counted again. All eighteen feathers.
And just now, he called me his daughter?
This man… is my dad?
She could hardly breathe. But she tried to stay calm—she didn’t want to freak out her brand-new father.
She quickly pieced together the situation.
She had died. And now, she was reborn into a novel.
And more importantly—
This man in front of her was her father.
Count Ante Sergio.
Not the protagonist or even a supporting character—just part of the background in the story. But who cares? He owned everything: gem mines, ships, textiles, seafood…
In short, he was the richest man in the South.
I’m a chaebol’s daughter now!
Not just any chaebol—the chaebol of the South!
“Mmm!”
A gurgle of joy escaped her lips.
Nice to meet you, Father!
Thrashing her arms in delight, she happened to grab one of the Count’s fingers and squeezed tight.
“What is it, my daughter?”
What else?
I’m never letting go of this hand.
