Let me paint you a picture.
It's late. Like, really late. The kind of late where even the cockroaches are wondering if they should call it a night. I'm sitting cross-legged on my moldy carpet, surrounded by empty instant ramen cups, half-eaten cup noodles, and enough pizza boxes to build a small shelter for homeless raccoons. My laptop screen glows a sickly blue, displaying the words: "YOU DIED" across some random mobile game I wasn't even playing anymore.
But that's not the weird part.
The weird part? I wasn't even touching the keyboard.
I was just sitting there. Staring into the void. Arguing with my fridge about why it hates me. Wondering if instant jjajangmyeon tastes better cold. You know, the usual Thursday night activities of a 28-year-old Korean NEET with zero ambition, zero job prospects, and a Netflix subscription that's somehow still active despite me not paying my bills on time.
And then—
BOOM.
Light. Not the cozy kind you get from your desk lamp. No, this was the kind of light that makes you feel like God just yanked your soul out through your butthole and decided to show you the meaning of "what the actual fuck."
A dude appeared out of nowhere.
No, seriously. One second, I'm alone in my room, surrounded by trash and regret. The next, there's some random motherfucker standing in front of me wearing what looks like a bathrobe made of galaxy fabric and holding a glowing orb that pulsed like it had an anxiety disorder.
"Uh… who the fuck are you?" I slurred, squinting at him like he owed me money.
He didn't answer. Just stared at me with those creepy, all-knowing eyes that people in anime always have right before they hand you some bullshit destiny.
"I'm not here to play games," I said, scratching my balls through my sweatpants. "If this is some VR scam, I swear to—"
Then he did it.
He reached into his robe — which, by the way, looked suspiciously like something a Final Fantasy NPC would wear — pulled out this glowing, humming orb of pure what-the-fuckery, and said:
"You have been chosen. Take this power. Use it well… or don't. I don't care."
"What the actual—" I started, but before I could finish, he shoved the orb into my chest.
And then everything went white.
I woke up choking on air that smelled like roses, velvet, and expensive perfume.
Wait.
Roses?!
I sputtered, coughed, and tried to sit up, only to realize two things immediately:
1. My arms were way skinnier than they should be.
2. I had boobs.
I froze.
"What the fuck—" I rasped, my voice coming out in this high-pitched, girly squeak that made me want to die on the spot.
That's when I noticed the frilly pink dress. The lace. The stupid tiara sitting on the fucking nightstand. The massive four-poster bed I was currently lying in, which looked like it belonged in a Disney movie for rich psychopaths.
"What the actual— NO. NO NO NO NO NONONO—"
I scrambled out of the bed like my ass was on fire, tripped over a rug that probably cost more than my entire life savings, and crashed face-first into a vanity mirror.
And there she was.
Or rather… I was.
Long silver-blonde hair. Big, sparkling violet eyes. Delicate features. Soft skin. And a face so perfect it could grace the cover of some fantasy romance novel titled "My Noble Waifu and the Dickhead She Doesn't Know She Is."
I touched my cheek. It felt real. Too real.
"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," I muttered, my voice still annoyingly feminine. "No. No no no. This isn't happening. This is a fever dream. I'm still on my shitty mattress. I'm still eating cold ramen. I'm still—"
I slapped myself.
It hurt.
A lot.
"Oh, fuck me sideways," I groaned, slumping onto the floor. "I'm a girl. I'm a fucking girl. What kind of bullshit reincarnation is this?"
That's when the memories hit. Not mine. Well, not all mine.
Fragments. Flashes. Like someone dumped a barrel of someone else's life into my brain without asking.
I — or rather, this chick — am Lumière Elaris Caelum von Arandale, heir to the House of Arandale, one of the most powerful noble families in the Kingdom of Virelia. I'm sixteen years old. I've lived a life of luxury, privilege, and probably tea parties where people sip their feelings and judge each other silently.
And the best part?
I don't remember shit about it.
All I know is that according to the fragmented memories now rattling around in my skull, I've been accepted into the Arcadia Royal Academy for the Gifted and Probably Rich, which is apparently the Harvard of this fantasy world. And I got in because of my family name, not because I earned it. Surprise!
"Oh, come the fuck on," I muttered, pulling at my hair. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask to be reborn. I didn't ask to be a girl. I didn't ask to be a noble fucking girl in some bullshit medieval fantasy world where I probably have to curtsy or some shit!"
Calm down, I told myself. Breathe. You've watched enough anime. You've read enough isekai manga. You've jerked off to enough harem fantasies to know how this goes.
Except… I hadn't.
Because within five minutes of wandering around the mansion (after putting on some ridiculous dress that felt like it was made of curtains), I was informed by my "loving" family that I'd be leaving for the Royal Academy in three days.
Three. Days.
"No. Absolutely not. Fuck that. I'm not going. I don't even know how to walk in these stupid shoes, let alone survive in a place full of rich assholes who probably think ramen is a type of cheese."
But of course, no one gave a shit what I thought.
Because I'm a noble girl now. And noble girls don't get to say no. They get to smile, nod, and look pretty while their lives are decided for them.
So here I am. Three days later. Standing in front of a massive gate that probably costs more than South Korea's national debt, wearing a uniform that makes me look like a cake decoration, and holding a stupid little crest that screams, "Yes, I'm privileged and have no idea what suffering is."
And inside that gate?
The Royal Academy.
Full of rich kids. Full of magic. Full of boys who are about to fall in love with me for absolutely no reason.
I groaned, tugging at the collar of my uniform.
"This is a nightmare. I'm a fucking NEET who got reborn as a noble girl in a fantasy world with no skills, no patience, and a mouth that gets me into trouble. What the fuck am I supposed to do?"
And somewhere deep inside me — buried under layers of lace, privilege, and teenage girl hormones — the real me, Kim Min-Jae, screamed:
"FUCK MY LIFE. LITERALLY."
[TO BE CONTINUED…]