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Episode 2
He steadied his rough breathing. In the silence that filled the dining room, his breaths echoed loudly.
The Duke pointed a finger at me as if to pierce my eyes, and commanded in a deliberately stern tone:
“Get out. Right now.”
“……”
“I told you—you don’t belong here. And yet, you seem incapable of understanding.”
“……”
“You’re too dull to even remember, so I’ll say it again. Here, you must act as if you don’t exist. Don’t breathe a word. Stay silent like a dead mouse.”
His violet eyes were filled with contempt. Beside him, Saren was laughing at me. Those same violet eyes—so similar—were all looking down on me.
For a moment, heat rushed to the top of my head… and then died down so suddenly, it was frightening.
Ha. I lightly ran my tongue over my lips. They hadn’t split, but I could already feel them swelling—proof of the strength of a grown man’s slap.
‘Should I put up with this… or not?’
Honestly, I wanted to grab him by the hair and yell “Do you even know who I am?!” like some chaebol heir being dragged to the police station—but let’s be real. From every angle, I was just this man’s illegitimate daughter, with no power of my own.
If I revealed my “real” self here, things could get very dangerous.
“Did you not hear me?”
“… No.”
“Then why are you still here?”
I exhaled in frustration and turned around. I heard Saren say something to him, but I couldn’t be bothered to care.
“I don’t know what possessed you to come here today, but if you act like this again, I’ll throw you into the stables.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
You bastard… just wait and see.
I endured the urge to spit in his face with superhuman patience and walked out of the dining room.
“Pfft.”
The maid who had informed me earlier of the Duke’s order to “come down to the dining room today” laughed at me as I passed. Damn it. I silently vowed revenge and headed back to my room.
Honestly, I don’t even know why he bothered showing up again after telling me to “get lost.”
“What was with you today? You usually know how to disappear quietly, and now you show up in the dining room?”
“I just… wanted to see what it’s like.”
“Really? Well, I guess that happens.”
Saren answered absentmindedly from in front of the bookshelf.
My room technically “existed,” at least to keep up appearances. A bed with a rock-hard mattress, a blanket as thin as printer paper, a huge drafty window, and a rickety bookshelf that could barely hold anything. But still—there was a room.
Damn it. I know I wrote that Shuneria’s room was supposed to be nicer than this.
Judging by how everything here seems worse than how I described it (especially the people), maybe this is actually the good version.
“Ha, when are they coming… I can’t wait.”
“Then don’t.”
“Are you crazy today or something?”
“Was that… a self-introduction, sis?”
When people give up halfway, they end up like this. My detached mumbling left Saren gaping.
“Was getting hit by Father not enough? Or did it make you lose your mind?”
“Honestly, half of it’s gone.”
“Huh. You seem to know your place sometimes.”
“Then maybe you should try it too. I recommend it.”
I answered soullessly.
Before you criticize others, try some self-reflection first. It’s a basic principle, but apparently Saren’s only flaw is having common sense. How hopeless.
She muttered to herself:
“Whatever. You’re going to die eventually anyway. I just need to wait until then.”
“…Why would I die?”
That was… suspicious.
Her tone wasn’t just some vague threat; it was certain, as if she knew something specific would lead to my death.
When I asked, she smirked.
“What, are you scared?”
“No. I just don’t see why I’d die. It’s not like you’re going to kill me, are you?”
“Why would I bother?”
She walked toward me in exaggerated steps, and then spoke in a mockingly benevolent tone, like a god addressing a mortal:
“You won’t understand now, but you’ll die later. At the hands of the ones I mentioned earlier—‘the people who are coming soon.’”
“…‘The people who are coming soon’?”
“The protagonists of this world. Oh wait, I’m the protagonist, so maybe not.”
Saren chuckled. She looked very pleased with herself as she pressed her finger hard against my head. But I didn’t even care about that.
‘Protagonists? In this world?!’
This wasn’t just narcissistic delusion.
For the first time, my expression broke into genuine shock. Meanwhile, Saren was gleefully twirling around in the middle of the room, holding the hem of her red dress.
‘You…!’
And I screamed silently inside my head:
‘She’s a transmigrator?!’
…A reader who transmigrated into the protagonist’s role is now bullying me, the author. Any recommendations on what I should do?
Well, I at least know one thing: smacking her once is probably the minimum she deserves.
Saren—no, let’s not insult my angelic original character—
The person possessing Saren Colhart was real. And I began calmly drafting my revenge list. Should I start with “I didn’t raise you like this!”?
‘Or maybe just “I’m the author,” that could work too.’
I was seriously pondering this when Saren snorted.
“What’s wrong? Shocked?”
“…Uh-huh.”
“Guess you are scared of dying. Don’t worry, you’ve got some time left.”
As if I don’t know that. I wrote the story.
“Soon enough, I won’t have to see you anymore anyway. Maybe I’ll even tell them not to kill you. You should thank me.”
Wow. Thanks so much. I ground my teeth silently.
She probably didn’t even know what she was talking about—but I did, you brat.
‘Remember this day. March 16th. The day I swore revenge on you.’
I even glanced at the calendar as if engraving a curse.
Knock knock—
There was a knock at the door.
“Come in.”
Saren said casually. A maid entered, bowing urgently.
“Miss Saren! They, they’ve arrived!”
“What? Who?”
“The people you said we should alert immediately if they came to the Duke’s estate! One of them just left, but the others…”
“Is that true?!”
The maid nodded quickly.
“Oh my God!”
Saren covered her mouth in shock, almost screaming.
Meanwhile, my thoughts were the exact opposite.
‘Wait… no way.’
She doesn’t genuinely welcome many visitors. And earlier she did say she was waiting for someone.
‘Could it be… one of the Five came here?’
No, she said “they,” so it’s at least more than one person.
In my original story, Saren met the five protagonists one by one—never like this.
While I was confused, Saren started flailing excitedly, saying she had to change clothes immediately.
“Oh, trash!”
She suddenly turned back to look at me.
“Those people—they’re the ones who might kill you later.”
“……”
“Guess I won’t have to see your annoying face anymore. Bye!”
SLAM.
Saren disappeared beyond the door with an infuriating smile.
That damn woman.
I ruffled my hair in frustration and gathered my thoughts.
‘This isn’t part of the original story anymore.’
The fact that Saren was a transmigrator and had such a rotten personality was already a major divergence.
Originally, Saren was supposed to die in my place, Shuneria’s place. And the five would kill me out of grief and rage, blaming me for her death.
But the current Saren? She wouldn’t die for me—she’d probably beg them to kill me instead.
‘…Please don’t fall for her, protagonists.’
But of course, Saren would be sweet to them. They were charming in the original story, and even in my fanfic version, that was still the case.
There was no reason they’d dislike her.
‘So the chance of them falling for her is high… great.’
Even if I accepted that, I’d probably still die somehow. Like Saren asking them to get rid of me, for example.
‘Either way, I’m doomed. Damn it.’
Still, out of sheer desperation, I approached the door to try.
Click.
“…Huh?”
I turned the doorknob, but it wouldn’t budge past a certain point. The maid must have locked it from outside—on Saren’s or the Duke’s orders.
‘Nothing goes my way, does it.’
I’m the author, and yet this world refuses to help me.
Sighing at the futility of life, I climbed onto the windowsill. The glass reflected my face—black hair and orange-golden eyes.
‘…Maybe I should’ve made the eye color match.’
Among the black-haired, purple-eyed Colhart family, I was the only one with these eyes. I’d originally set them as orange, but after possessing this body, golden hues had mixed in.
And that only added more fuel to discrimination.
‘Honestly, I shouldn’t have made her illegitimate in the first place.’
I barely even regretted it. It’s not like it could change now anyway.
‘Once I leave this mansion soon… things will get easier. I’ll have to become independent.’
Escaping this insane household was my most realistic goal.
I was an adult already, and yet independence felt like a life-or-death mission.
Being a duke’s daughter but broke… how pathetic. But reality is always bitter. Especially for me.
“Ha…”
My cheek stung. The slap from earlier had fully swollen and bruised. It’d probably last for days.
I leaned my head against the cold glass—
Flash—!
A sudden blue light burst outside the window.
Before I could even react, I saw someone appear in midair, surrounded by that light.
Silvery-blue hair fluttered in the wind. Beneath it, eyes as black as the night sky. Common colors, maybe—but the man himself was anything but ordinary.
“Huh…?”
A dazed murmur escaped me. That man was—
Our eyes met precisely for a few seconds. His lips curved into a graceful smile.
In the next instant, he vanished into blue light again—
Flash—!
And reappeared inside my room.
I gasped, startled by how quickly it happened.
“Found you faster than I thought. Good.”
He muttered. He glanced around briefly and gave a small, amused laugh—but I barely noticed.
This man wasn’t normal.
And more importantly, he wasn’t supposed to be here at all.
‘W-Why is he here?!’
Isaac.
One of the original Five.
The one with the power of space.
Incredibly intelligent, pragmatic, and ruthlessly efficient—he was also the kind of guy who, if annoyed, could just wipe out everyone and cover it up neatly.
