Chapter 3
“It’s cheap, it’s cheap!”
“Move! Move! Can’t you see someone’s trying to get through?”
“Oh my, this is so pretty.”
“It really is! Should I get one too? It’s not even that expensive.”
“A carriage is coming! Everyone move aside!”
Once again, I could hear the voices of people and children running around.
“Huff, cough, cough.”
Coughing dryly, I sat up and reached for my neck with trembling hands. But I felt nothing. As if nothing had happened. Not a single scratch on my neck—it was perfectly fine.
I could vividly remember the feeling of my throat being slit in the alley, but there was no memory of the pain.
After transmigration, death usually falls into two categories. One: the feeling of dying is so vivid that even after reviving, the fear lingers and drives one mad. Two: the experience is so numbing that one becomes addicted to death itself.
In my case… I could say it was neither—or perhaps both.
The sensation was clear in my memory, but the pain itself was gone.
As I gently touched my unharmed neck, I thought: it didn’t hurt, but I definitely never wanted to experience it again.
Once the sense of being alive fully returned, rage surged up inside me.
“That son of a ♬♪♩♩. I helped him and he went for my throat?!”
Wait.
“♬♪♩♩♪♪♬♪♩♪♬♪♩♪♬♪.”
Are my curses being censored? Don’t tell me… is this a general audience rating?
“You piece of ♩♪♪♬♩♪♬♪♪♩♪♬♩♪♬.”
SCREECH—
“What the?!”
Suddenly, someone grabbed me by the collar and lifted me up. Then, they slammed me onto the ground.
“Ugh.”
A groan escaped my lips from the sudden impact.
I’d been too focused on my neck and forgot what came next.
“Didn’t you hear us yelling to move?! Do you know who’s in this carriage? A filthy beggar like you dares block their way?!”
“……”
“If you understand, then scram!”
The lines were identical. Was the situation repeating itself? That must mean… the same threats will follow?
Now, that man will step out of the carriage and stop the coachman.
Three.
Two.
One.
“That’s enough. I’m sure the child didn’t jump in on purpose. Let it go.”
Just like before.
‘So every time I die, do I return to this moment?’
And finally, in a few short seconds, the man would meet my eyes—and then call out to me.
Before his gaze could land on me, I quickly grabbed a handful of my messy green hair and pulled it forward to hide my face.
I peered subtly toward the carriage. Thankfully, the man still wasn’t looking my way.
To be even safer, I tried to disguise my voice.
“Th-then. I’ll be going now.”
I backed away from the carriage and ran in the opposite direction from the alley where I first died.
I heard a voice call out for me to stop, but that wasn’t my concern anymore.
This time, I’d run toward the forest instead of the alley, so I didn’t run into that long-haired criminal who had slit my throat.
‘Where should I go now?’
If I had even a fragment of this body’s memories, I might’ve tried something. But no clues were left behind—just like the body’s original owner had vanished completely. I didn’t even know where I’d sleep tonight… or what I’d eat…
That sense of hopelessness crept in and made me want to give up.
Right now, I just wanted to go home, crawl under a blanket, and listen to music.
I wanted to lie around all day, doing nothing.
It’s not like I was doing anything important—but I was determined to passionately do nothing.
Why do even lazy days have to be so emotionally intense?
My thoughts spiraled, and I started to feel bitter.
Sure, I had once fantasized about being transmigrated. I thought I’d handle things better than those typical protagonists—no frustrating storylines, no helpless delays.
Of course, that was all assuming I’d never actually transmigrate.
But now that I have… I take it all back.
In this strange world where I knew nothing, I had zero confidence in surviving like a novel’s protagonist.
If I’d possessed a noble lady’s body, I wouldn’t even dream of fake dating or marriage contracts. I’d be executed by the scheming male lead.
If I’d been reborn as a villainess, I’d either be immediately exposed, branded a witch, and burned—or blend in too well and still be punished for crimes I didn’t commit.
Even as the main heroine, I wouldn’t have survived. I’d hand over the male lead to the villainess sister on a silver platter and lose to every scheme that came my way.
Because my own life is the most important to me. Because this world is not mine.
I was just an ordinary university student. Just a regular person ranting about professors while drowning in assignments…
Why was this happening to me?
“Enjoy the ride!” they say. But how can I enjoy being stuck in the body of a 7-year-old beggar? What am I supposed to do like this?
‘I seriously feel like crying.’
No matter how I thought about it, there was no bright future in sight, and I felt overwhelmingly depressed.
Mumbling complaints to myself, I wandered aimlessly until I came to my senses—in front of a grand mansion shrouded in mist.
Excuse me…
How far could I possibly have walked from the market to end up at a place like this—clearly home to some handsome but twisted villain? And in the middle of the mountains, no less?
It was just too obvious. So cliché, it was terrifying.
Still, I had to be cautious and consider all possibilities.
In fiction, these isolated mansions usually belong to some tragic man who lost his angelic wife. Either grief made him cold and cruel, or his true nature was simply revealed without someone to restrain him. A man who casually takes lives and drops murder threats like candy.
If it’s just one, it’s manageable. But usually, the late angelic wife leaves behind a child too.
And me? I’m the type who can’t deal with sunshine-like kids, much less change a rude, handsome, emotionally stunted man’s heart.
Sensing danger, I turned to leave. But at that moment, my body was lifted into the air.
“Huh?”
I flailed in panic as my feet left the ground.
A mocking voice came from the mansion.
“Hyung! Look at her! She’s hilarious!”
“Should we kill her?”
Ah… so they’ve arrived.
The handsome but deranged villains.
If I die like this, will I return to the world where I was doing assignments—or back to the market earlier?
Professor, I’m sorry for cursing you behind your back. But I couldn’t say it to your face.
If I go back, I’ll never procrastinate again.
…That was a lie.
With nothing else to do, I squeezed my eyes shut.
“This could be fun. Should we bring her home?”
“Should we just kill her?”
“I’ve been so bored lately. This works out great. I’ll make her my toy.”
“Seriously, should I kill her?”
Bored-villain and should-I-kill-her-villain… and they’re brothers. This situation defied difficulty rankings.
So this second life ends here?
Rustle.
‘Now what?’
“I told you not to pick up just anything, didn’t I?”
The final villain—father of the two lunatics—had appeared, shattering what little hope remained.
“I don’t recall ever being taught that.”
“Father! Can we take her home and keep her?”
Any last hope that at least one of them might be sane disappeared with the father’s arrival.
The son who called a person ‘that thing’ spoke volumes about their family values.
And as soon as the father arrived, he started butting heads with the older son.
The younger son, clueless, insisted they have a stare-off with him too.
While the three argued meaninglessly, the magic holding me up was released, and I fell to the ground with a thud. Yet none of them turned to check.
Rubbing my sore butt, I quickly scanned for an escape route and sprinted back toward the market with every ounce of strength I had.
‘I’ve done enough running for a lifetime today.’
Huff. Huff.
Wait—this world has magic?! I almost died to a trio of deranged, psychopathic villains!
After running for a while, I finally reached the market entrance. It was still bustling and noisy.
Then—
“W-wait a moment!”
I turned toward the voice and saw the same carriage parked before me.
‘No way… have they been searching for me in the market all this time?’
Wasn’t that cliché over already?
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t escape that carriage. Maybe this was where I was meant to go.
I was quickly giving in to reality, but a shred of sanity held me back.
No. This isn’t good. Not good at all. And I can hear it—I can hear it.
“Please, wait a moment.”
That’s the sound of my life being destroyed in real time.
“Didn’t the Duke just ask you to wait?! What are you standing around for?!”
If I run now, can I escape? What’s my best 100m sprint time again?
While I was lost in thought, the ticking time bomb stepped down from the carriage and approached.
“Would you spare me a moment of conversation? Just a moment.”
Click. The time bomb had been activated.
A 7-year-old beggar girl, wrapped in rags, had no power to reject a man referred to as “Duke.”
If he says jump, I jump. This is a class-based society.
“…Yes, sir.”
