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chapter 2
└[Why are there only event comments? I don’t even see the advance team’s comments.]
The noisy voice in my head, calling itself a “comment,” filled my mind with cheers and reviews.
Fortunately, the overwhelming cheer soon subsided to a murmur, giving me a moment to calm my dizzy thoughts.
“Rose. Are you sleeping?”
This time, it wasn’t the monotonous cheering voice, but the voice of a boy.
When I turned my head, a pair of round green eyes was staring at me.
‘Ah, right. This is the orphanage.’
Finally coming to my senses, I opened and closed my hands a few times.
Unlike in the life-review sequence, my body moved according to my will.
Still, reality hadn’t fully set in, so I placed my hand on the round head of the boy beside me.
I expected him to vanish like a mirage, but the soft, fluffy texture of his hair came vividly through my palm.
“It tickles.”
He giggled at my touch—and even communicated!
└[You’ve regressed. You, heroine.]
Another mysterious voice spoke to me.
So regression… what is it exactly? Doesn’t it mean returning, like salmon?
└[These days, people skip the explanation of regression, but the heroine asking for a definition is fresh]
└[Probably something like, look in the mirror, poke your chubby cheeks, and think, “I’m younger, time to live a new life,” lol]
‘Why poke my cheeks? Well… they are soft.’
└[Cute]
…Just to make me cute?
Confused, I followed the comment’s instructions and lowered my hand again.
According to the comment, regression is when a person who died miserably in their previous life is given a second chance at life. Nowadays, it supposedly happens so often it’s almost mundane.
‘But I’ve never seen anyone like that until I reached adulthood.’
No one even seemed remotely suspicious.
I just recalled Count Torto’s face from the last time I saw him, which gave me a headache.
“Rose, is your head hurting?”
“A little. I must have had a bad dream.”
After reviewing my life in the life-flashback, my past felt like a dream.
└[Episode 2, but when does the story actually progress?]
I wasn’t intending to dawdle forever…
But the comments, growing impatient with my long thoughts, nudged me to get out of bed quickly.
While I was coming to terms with my second chance at life, the boy next to me apparently reported my headache to the orphanage teacher.
The tired-looking male teacher took a round pill from a glass bottle and placed it in my palm.
“Chew it thoroughly. Don’t secretly spit it out because it tastes bad.”
It was a mixture of powdered herbs and grains. The herbal content was low, so the color was pale.
But the smell triggered memories, and I recalled my past vividly.
‘Right. At the orphanage, it was always this medicine.’
We took it when we had a headache, sore throat, cold, frostbite in winter, or even when we cut our fingers on grass.
└[Isn’t that a miracle cure?]
└[Huh? Did you come from a martial arts novel? ;]
The comments interrupted my trip down memory lane.
It wasn’t a true panacea; the medicine was just to give kids something to help them endure until they recovered.
At most, it slightly boosted energy.
└[That’s just a placebo.]
This medicine is called a placebo?
These hallucinations often gave me information I didn’t know myself.
└[Treating hallucinations as real, lol]
└[A reader-participation system? Did the protagonist not agree?]
└[Is this some kind of generative AI trying to learn from reactions via comments?]
└[Ah, that’s why she asked about regression]
└[Machine out, machine out]
…None of this made sense.
Could it be fairies instead of hallucinations?
‘Fairy, can you hear me?’
These “comment fairies” appeared and disappeared, speaking only sporadically. They didn’t respond to my attempts at conversation.
└[How long will the heroine keep spamming question marks? I can’t stand it. I’m getting off.]
…They even read my thoughts unilaterally like that.
According to the fairies, the protagonist’s virtue was to accept post-regression situations without puzzlement. That protagonist… was me.
‘I feel like a stage actor…’
I’m on stage, and when I speak my monologue, the audience listens.
The more I tried to understand this situation, the more bored the comment fairies grew, so I pulled myself out of my thoughts.
I grabbed the pill in my palm.
“Cough.”
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one impatient with my sluggish movements.
The orphanage director lingered where the teacher had left the medicine.
‘He probably thought it was strange that I was just staring at it.’
For children, the medicine was very bitter, but I had to take it quickly…
“Hah, children always pretend to be sick. Always saying something hurts…”
I had to take it…
“Tch, knowing it’s good for you doesn’t matter. Herbal prices are ridiculous now. This orphanage will go broke, really!”
“……”
The director muttered to the air, but clearly for me to hear.
He had the same miserly gaze as the old butler from Count Torto’s household.
I, wary, put the pill back down.
“I-I’m not hurting anymore. I was just sleepy earlier.”
“Really?”
When I offered the pill again, the director snatched it and put it back in the bottle.
└[Why isn’t there a proper adult here? They’re taking medicine from a sick kid.]
└[Feels like the company president moving the coffee machine to save money on instant coffee]
Ah yes, the miserly director!
He patrolled the orphanage all day, ensuring no money was wasted.
He was also the one who introduced me to Count Torto.
└[The orphanage is always the culprit]
└[Please don’t let her be adopted back by Torto]
‘Not Trot, it’s Torto.’
Anyway, I shared the fairies’ wish.
Returning to the orphanage from a noble life wasn’t a bad thing.
‘When I die, that advance team or whatever…’
└[Wait, there was an advance team? I didn’t see them.]
└[We’re in episode 2; what did they even see? Did they come from the future?]
└[Maybe the publisher pretended to be the advance team but realized it was live serialization and deleted it, lol]
└[Viral out, viral out]
The fairies questioned the existence of the advance team, but I couldn’t ignore their words.
‘They called me Rose.’
Not Beletta Torto, but Rose, as if it were natural.
This miraculous second chance at life was my opportunity to live fully as Rose.
To live as Rose, I first had to avoid becoming “Beletta Torto.”
Back in the room, I looked into a mirror in the corner.
The reflection wasn’t as clear as a noble’s mirror, but I could see my hair color distinctly.
“Phew…”
I hoped my orange hair would grow quickly.
My blonde hair had been the main reason I was mistaken for the Count’s illegitimate child.
└[Why not just shave it off?]
└[Hair-shaving heroine, that’s a first]
‘I won’t!’
Even if I shaved it, my blonde hair would remain a fact.
And covering my hair alone wouldn’t solve it.
There were many reasons Count Torto mistook me for an illegitimate child.
‘Besides, the Count always gets what he wants.’
If he wanted to take me, and I refused, he’d likely force me to go.
└[Abuser personality, no change]
└[♪♩~ Count ♩♪♪ abusing children ♬♪~~ should all perish.]
‘…Here they come again. The fairies’ song.’
I guessed they were fairies because whenever I recalled Count Torto, they would sing.
The melody sounded strange, but they seemed to channel intense emotions into the song rather than sing happily.
└[Thinking about the heroine ♩♪♩ hilarious ♩~♬ lol]
…Or maybe they were singing happily?
Even as the comment fairies argued, they laughed with “kekeke” and “hehe.”
└[Ah, they’re listening via TTS]
└[Minjun?]
Ignoring the nonsensical chatter of the comment fairies, I focused on my thoughts again.
