IWPVD Prologue

IWPVD

Posted by Tommy Vercetti, Released on July 28, 2025

Prologue

Wherever I looked, there were dazzling jewels, porcelain, and gold. In a spacious mansion, I was enjoying tea time with my family.

“Lala, are you feeling any better?”

The voice of my eldest brother, Edwin, brought me back to my senses. I quickly snapped out of my daze and set down my teacup.

“Y-Yes, of course… Ah!”

In that brief moment of distraction, I accidentally burned my hand slightly with the hot tea. Immediately, my second brother, Light, who was sitting next to me, hurriedly handed me his handkerchief.

“Are you okay?”

“Th-Thank you…”

I accepted the handkerchief and wiped my hand. My father, Esat, approached and examined my burned finger closely, as if he himself had been hurt. His expression was full of genuine pain.

“Be careful, Laila.”

“Ah…”

I blushed slightly. I couldn’t bear how awkward and uncomfortable it felt to receive this kind of warm attention—something I had never known before. Esat nodded gently, as if he understood exactly how I felt.

“It’s alright. You don’t need to feel awkward. Even if you’ve lost your memory, Laila, you’ll always be our family.”

“….”

I raised my flushed face. When I looked at Edwin and Light, they responded with warm, gentle eyes. Even though my smile was awkward, they beamed back at me as brightly as blooming flowers.

My name is Laila Roschahil.

But until just a few months ago, I didn’t even know these people—let alone think of them as family.

Except for being an orphan, I was an ordinary Korean high school girl. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to be possessed into a novel called The Story of Elia.

Let’s rewind a bit.

“Read this!”

Chomp. I blinked as I took a big bite of a hamburger. My friend Yaeun suddenly shoved her smartphone in front of my face. I asked while still chewing leisurely.

“What is it?”

“You’ll see when you read it.”

Was she trying to push another one of those web novels she read again?

Thinking lightly of it, I took her phone and began reading.

Conveniently, I was sitting in an air-conditioned fast food joint, munching on the burger Yaeun bought. So even if it turned out boring, I was ready to read it generously.

But I wasn’t prepared for how insufferably boring it actually was.

“What the heck is this?!”

The title was The Story of Elia.

The novel had about 40 chapters posted on a website. I read about six of them in one sitting, then ranted without taking a breath about how ridiculous it was.

“Why is the main character such a goody-two-shoes? And everyone falls for her every time she does anything! That girl Laila is annoying, and the whole plot is just frustrating!”

After quietly listening to my complaints, Yaeun suddenly smiled brightly.

“I wrote that.”

“….”

Silence filled the air.

“You… write novels?”

“That was my first one. It actually got a decent reaction online, so I wanted to show it to you first…”

I shut my mouth and quickly changed my tone.

“Now that I think about it, it’s refreshingly intense—perfect for modern readers! Sure, the protagonist’s a bit too nice, but that’s what you expect from a main character. Come to think of it, I did like one of the characters!”

“Oh, you mean the Duke of Roschahil?”

“Yeah! He was super cool! Talented and cold—just my type.”

“Right? I thought you’d like him!”

Despite my earlier harsh review, Yaeun enthusiastically explained the novel to me in detail. Especially about the Duke of Roschahil, since I had mentioned him.

Thanks to that, I learned everything—from his likes and dislikes to his turquoise eyes and watery-blue hair.

Not only that, I found out he was in his 40s but looked ridiculously young, and that he had two sons and one daughter.

Ah, and that daughter was the villainess, Laila.

As I nodded along, Yaeun added one last thing.

“But don’t fall for him too hard.”

“Why?”

“He dies in a year, according to the novel.”

What the—

Seriously?

He was the only character I actually liked!

But Yaeun was firm.

“It’s a fixed event.”

Tch. I guess there’s no helping it.

I quietly folded my hamburger wrapper and tossed it in the trash.

After parting ways with Yaeun, I walked the darkening streets home. As soon as my aunt saw me, her face twisted in a scowl.

“What kind of girl comes home this late?”

It wasn’t even 9 PM yet.

When I told her honestly that I had been at a fast-food place, her scowl deepened.

“Eating that junk will just make you fatter—aren’t you practically a pig already?”

I said nothing.

I wasn’t fat—in fact, I was pretty slim. But my aunt always picked on me, saying I ate too much and would become a pig.

Since my parents and brother died in a car accident when I was in elementary school, I’d been living with my aunt. I was grateful I hadn’t been sent to an orphanage, but…

“Get inside before your uncle comes.”

“Yes.”

As I walked through the living room, I saw my cousin on the couch. He scowled at me too. On TV, cheerful idols were laughing brightly.

My cousin hated me too. Said I was ugly. Said I made life harder for his parents.

But this was the same cousin who had failed college entrance exams three times, didn’t help with chores, and constantly threw tantrums at his mom. He wasn’t even good-looking!

It was a relief that my uncle wasn’t home yet. He was especially cruel to me, since we weren’t related by blood. He never abandoned me outright—probably because of social appearances—but shoved me into a storage-like side room. It was his decision that forced me, despite my good grades, into a vocational high school.

“What’s the point of a girl studying, anyway?”

He’d say that, even though his own son—who looked just like him—had flunked college for years. He clearly resented me for excelling.

Would they still treat me like this if I were their real daughter?

The sorrow welled up again, and I shut the door to my cramped little room, lowering my head. The room was as cold and bleak as my heart.

Just then, the front door opened. It was my uncle.

Drunk again. He came in yelling like it was some badge of honor.

“Where is that brat?! Think she’s too good to come greet me?!”

“People will hear! Be quiet! Jinsoo, help your father.”

“Why is it always me?!”

Their voices echoed down the hallway. I held my breath, straining to hear them.

Sometimes, when drunk, my uncle hit me. So I had to stay hidden—silent.

His footsteps pounded down the hallway, stopping in front of my door.

I couldn’t breathe.

A long moment passed. Maybe it was only a second, but to me it felt like forever.

Click.

The door opened.

I let out a trembling breath.

I heard him flop onto the bed in the next room. Seemed like he was too drunk to do anything tonight.

Still, I remained frozen for a long time. How long had I stayed like that?

Eventually, I must have dozed off in that position. When I opened my eyes, dawn had broken.

My whole body ached from sleeping curled up like that.

The clock read 6:34 AM.

I sprang to my feet. My aunt would be up soon. I needed to leave before she saw me.

I hurried out. Mist covered everything like a ghostly veil. Our neighborhood was by the river, so in the mornings it often looked like the whole town was swallowed by fog.

I bit into a cheap convenience store pastry as I waited at the crosswalk.

Still…

One good thing: I’d be an adult soon. Thanks to my uncle’s choice, I went to a vocational high school—but that meant I could get a job early. In my senior year, I’d be sent for industry training and even receive a salary. Then I could afford a tiny gosiwon room and finally leave this place behind.

No more hiding. No more holding back tears. No more aching for love I’d never get.

I had stopped hoping for anything. No love. No blood ties. No dreams.

When you expect nothing, your heart feels lighter.

The crosswalk turned green.

I stepped forward.

And then—

SCREEEEECH!!!

The brakes of a truck screamed.

Time seemed to freeze. The massive wheels rolled toward me in slow motion.

CRASH!!!

My vision flashed white. Blood gushed. I trembled, unable to even scream. The pain was unbearable.

Was this… how I would die?