IWTGHFW CHAPTER 1

Episode 1

【I’m a Career-Change Rookie Employee】

“What’s your dream?”

Ever since I was a kid, whenever someone asked me this, my answer was always the same.

“A rich, unemployed person.”

There were three typical reactions to this answer. Some got angry, saying I had no ambition. Some laughed, saying it was funny. And some agreed wholeheartedly.

Most people I met in the working world reacted with the last one. They nodded as if in deep agreement and shared their own dreams—becoming a landlord, winning the lottery, being born with a silver spoon in their next life.

All cut from the same cloth.

One of my coworkers, who was obsessed with sports betting, bet his entire paycheck on a bottom-tier team, hoping for a miracle win.

Two months later, he declared bankruptcy and got fired.

Anyway…

People say dreams change over time, but mine has been rock-solid since childhood. I’ve always wanted to be a rich bum. Isn’t that consistency admirable?

Unfortunately, my parents were your typical salaried workers. Not poor, but burdened with unpaid rent loans, car installments, and monthly credit card bills that ate up their income like a black hole.

Still, I couldn’t give up on my dream. Like that line from a movie—I wanted to live the life of a laid-back person sipping mojitos in the Maldives.

So, ironically, I worked myself to death.

Graduated from a decent university, got hired at a decent company, climbed the ladder to a decent position.

And there I was, 38 years old.

To outsiders, it looked like I was passionately chasing some lofty goal, but in truth, I was just a late-30s woman whose dream was to earn a ton of money and then slap down a resignation letter.

I was so frugal that people called me stingy. But finally, I had picked my D-Day. As a 44th birthday present to myself, I was going to quit and throw that letter in my boss’s smug face.

Why age 44?

Because that would mark exactly 20 years of paying into the national pension.

I had three savings plans, a small but cozy studio apartment to live alone, and by the time I got older, I’d have pension payments. I might not make it to the Maldives, but I could definitely sip mojitos in a bar of the same name and pretend I was living the dream.

Just six more years.

The goal was in sight.

But then—

“Ail, aren’t you leaving work?”

“I should. I really should, but there’s just so much work. Hahaha…”

I let out a maniacal laugh, gesturing to the mountainous pile of paperwork on my desk. Mien gave me a pitiful look but clearly had no intention of helping. Not that I wanted her to anyway. She was fine as a person but terrible as a coworker.

In other words, completely incompetent.

“Well, I’ll head out then. See you tomorrow.”

“Sure. Take care.”

Once Mien left, I was alone in the office.

Alone.

I mean, seriously—what kind of administrative support team only has two employees?

If they’re gonna make it this small, why bother with such a big office?

Or better yet, reduce the damn workload!

I silently screamed as I yanked my hair in frustration. I pulled so hard that several strands of wavy silver-gray hair came out between my fingers.

Silver hair.

I stared at the fallen strands.

I still couldn’t get used to this color. My hair had always been the typical black of a Korean person.

Back in Korea, walking around with silver hair would’ve gotten me labeled an attention-seeker. But here, silver wasn’t common—but it wasn’t rare either.

Just step outside and you’d see a rainbow of hair colors. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue…

Like a walking pride parade.

“Let’s get things in order.”

I shoved the ugly mountain of documents aside and slumped into my chair. Before I could deal with that dreadful paperwork, I had to sort out something else.

‘My current situation.’

Honestly, there wasn’t much to sort.

It was a typical commute home—until some lunatic ignored a red light and plowed through the crosswalk like it was a highway. Headlights blinding, screeching tires, a weird monster-truck growl—

Then I woke up here.

At first, I thought I was dead and this was the afterlife. At least until my roommate Rose in this strange palace apartment told me, “Ail, get up! You’ll be late for work.”

Work? In the afterlife?

Ridiculous.

That’s when I realized this was another reality—where a woman named Ail with silver-gray hair worked in the imperial palace’s administrative support team.

And that “administrative support team” sounded fancy but really just meant “do every annoying job no one else wants to do.”

That woman Ail… was now me.

“If this was going to happen anyway, couldn’t I have been born into nobility?”

A rich countess would’ve been nice…

Smacking my lips in disappointment, I stared at the heap of white paper in front of me.

I’d been dreaming of quitting my job in six years—and now I had to start over in this world?

I reached for my hair again but paused. Unlike my 38-year-old self in Korea, Ail was only 20. If you didn’t take care of your hair in your twenties, you’d go bald in your thirties. That’s what happened to me, chasing money with no time for self-care.

‘God, I hate having to think about this all over again.’

Bald or not—I just want to retire. I want to go home. I want to leave work forever!

I glared at the paperwork with burning resentment. But if I didn’t finish it all today, that damn captain was going to nag my ears off.

Swallowing my tears, I grabbed the first sheet.

To be continued…