I woke slowly to the sensation of cold moisture and the clammy cling of damp clothes.

‘…What is this? Where on earth am I?’

I had definitely been on my way home from work. Why was my body so soaked? Stripping a quick glance down, I realized it wasn't just my bangs; my entire outfit was completely drenched. Where did this sudden deluge come from? Had there been a torrential downpour from the heavens while I wasn't looking?

I roughly brushed away the wet strands of hair obscuring my vision and looked around to grasp the situation.

What the hell? Where am I?

My eyes widened, slowly filling with panic.

Had I been walking through a place like this? That was impossible. Eager to get home and rest after a long day at the office, I had been walking faster than usual. So why was I suddenly staring at a breathtakingly lavish hallway? How did I instantly warp from the outdoors into an interior straight out of a palace?

The most baffling part, however, was the woman standing nearby. Her attire was straight out of a fantasy manga. She stood there, frozen in the exact posture of someone who had just hurled a bucket of water at me. She giggled, sneered, and then spun on her heel and vanished without so much as a word of apology. I furrowed my brow, staring blankly in the direction she had gone.

‘…Who even is she?’

She looked like an adult, but was she missing a few screws? Who throws water at a perfectly still bystander and just runs away?

Under normal circumstances, I would have chased her down, grabbed her by the hair, and demanded to know what her problem was. But the sheer unfamiliarity of my surroundings anchored my feet. For now, it seemed wiser to suppress my temper and figure out this bizarre situation first.

‘Let’s just move for now.’

Once the woman disappeared, the hallway fell dead silent, devoid of any other signs of life. Scratching my damp, uncomfortably sticky head, I let my feet carry me forward.

Was I dreaming on my commute home? The further I walked, the wider my jaw dropped at the sheer absurdity of the corridor.

Why was this hallway so endless? And were those decorations actual gold? Crystals hung from the ceiling like clusters of heavy chandeliers. Did I secretly harbor a hidden romantic fantasy like this? The place was decorated exactly like a palace where princesses from fairy tales would reside, and it was making my head spin.

‘…This is definitely a dream. There’s no way it isn’t.’

I looked around. With every step I took, my conviction grew. There was absolutely no way a place like this existed in South Korea, and there was no logical reason for me to be transported to a palace on my way home from work.

Accepting it as a dream instantly alleviated the knot of anxiety in my chest. With a lighter stride, I decided to humor my own imagination and strolled aimlessly down the path. That was when a familiarly strange door caught my eye. I stopped in my tracks and stared at it intently.

How should I put it? While the other doors triggered absolutely no emotion, this specific room felt profoundly intimate and familiar. Before I knew it, my body moved on instinct, and my hand gripped the doorknob. I had a gut feeling that opening this door would give me the answers to what was going on. Taking a deep breath, I slowly turned the handle and stepped inside.

Fortunately, the room was empty. I took a slow, sweeping look around. Compared to the extravagant hallway, this space felt distinctly lacking. A bed that looked reasonably luxurious, a vanity with a mirror, and a weathered wardrobe stood entirely isolated. The atmosphere inside was stark and desolate.

My eyes scanned the room before settling on the uniquely shaped vanity. As I approached it, the mirror caught my attention. Glancing into it absentmindedly, I flinched, my entire body freezing instantly.

“…Who is this?”

The reflection looking back at me seemed to move as I moved… but I didn't look like this.

I stared intently at the woman in the mirror. The woman stared back just as intensely.

Long, flowing black hair that cascaded all the way down to her hips; deep, ruby-red eyes that looked as though precious gems had been embedded into her skull; and a delicate, doll-like face that screamed pure, fragile innocence. She was a breathtaking beauty, flaunting her gorgeous features even while looking like a drowned rat.

Involuntarily, I raised my hand and waved it in front of the glass. Sure enough, matching my movements perfectly, the woman in the mirror waved back.

“Ha, haha…”

A dry chuckle escaped my lips. Even for a dream, this was wildly unrealistic. Did I secretly prefer this kind of face? It was so utterly different from the face I confronted in the mirror every single day that it created a profound sense of cognitive dissonance. Even in a dream, it didn't feel like my own.

I tore my eyes away from the mirror. Staring at it any longer was starting to make me feel deeply unsettled.

‘…Everything about this is bizarre. And it’s freezing. When on earth am I going to wake up?’

Drenched from head to toe, my body began to tremble violently from the cold. At this rate, I was going to catch a cold… Wait, do people catch colds in dreams? The chill felt entirely too realistic. This was a dream, right?

The damp, clingy clothes, the wet hair, and the shivering frame all seemed to scream that this was reality. It left a bad taste in my mouth, but I shook off the nagging doubt. There was no way this wasn't a dream.

Realizing that standing around wasn't going to wake me up any faster, I marched over to the bed—which felt strangely familiar for some reason—and threw myself onto it, splaying out like a starfish.

“How unpleasant…”

I considered peeling off the wet clothes, but the vivid realism of this dream made the wardrobe feel like someone else's property, leaving me too squeamish to touch it.

Ah, whatever. Once I wake up, this gross sensation will vanish anyway. With that thought, I closed my eyes.

Huddling under the blanket offered a modicum of relief from the cold. Thus, with my eyes shut tight, I desperately prayed to wake up from this bizarre dream and tried to force myself to sleep.

I am an ordinary office worker, but I’ve possessed a rotten temper since childhood. Because of it, I frequently heard people say things like, "Your personality is really something else," "You're way too blunt," "You're obnoxious," or "You really don't know how to read the room."

Born hot-headed and fiercely loathing defeat, I spent my immature school years picking fights and brawling with classmates at the slightest provocation.

However, as I transitioned into adulthood, I had to change. Unlike my school days when people brushed it off as childish rebellion, the corporate world was merciless. No one tolerated my true personality anymore. I was constantly fired from part-time jobs and office positions because of this volatile, uncontrollable temper of mine. Realizing I would starve to death without an income, I finally resolved to fix my godforsaken personality. Or, at the very least, I worked myself to the bone to suppress it while on the clock.

I forced myself to wrap my bluntness in the softest language possible, and whenever rage surged within me, I forced an even brighter smile to swallow the anger down. Step by step, I reformed my demeanor and molded myself to fit the corporate mold. Yet, much like wearing a suit that didn't fit, the accumulated stress was undeniable.

My sole outlet for that suffocating stress was reading romance fantasy web novels. The one I had enjoyed most recently was a novel titled .

Yes. That exact novel was currently flashing before my eyes like a panoramic cinema display.

I stared blankly into the void. In the empty air, the plot of the novel was unfolding as if it were a reality I had personally lived through. Watching those memories play out, the details of the story flooded back to me.

The female lead of the novel was born as the youngest daughter of a ducal family, renowned for generations as a martial powerhouse. However, because the beloved Duchess died while giving birth to her, the protagonist was shunned by both the Duke and her two older brothers, spending a wretched and miserable childhood.

Her introverted and quiet demeanor was partly her nature, but it was undoubtedly forged by the neglect of her family and the abuse of the estate's servants.

The female lead craved her family's attention. She desperately wanted their affection. That was why she constantly hovered around them, lingering in their orbits, hoping that perhaps—just perhaps—she might receive a crumb of notice.

Yet, her family met her efforts with absolute, unyielding indifference. Eventually, her festering emotional wounds ruptured, and she fled the duchy. That turning point marked the true beginning of the narrative.

Immediately after leaving her family, she crossed paths with the Crown Prince—the male lead—and embarked on a journey with him. Through their travels, her scarred heart began to heal, and her hidden, prodigious talent for the sword was awakened. With the Crown Prince's endless support, she successfully ascended to the legendary realm of a Sword Master.

Recognized for her peerless might, her rise was meteoric. In the final act, she received a proposal from the Crown Prince after he ascended the throne. Surrounded by the blessings of the entire empire, she became the Empress and lived happily ever after by his side.

While parts of it were a bit cliché, watching the female lead mature both emotionally and in strength was quite exhilarating. The early chapters had some frustratingly stifling moments, but once you cleared that hurdle, there were no major villains or stressful catastrophes. The story was a smooth, satisfying ride where the overpowered female lead crushed every obstacle in her path, making it a highly enjoyable read.

Whenever the female lead smashed a monster's skull, I used to relieve my stress by imagining myself smashing my boss's head right along with her.

Granted, outside of wielding a sword, her personality could be exasperatingly passive, but her absolute dominance in combat highlighted that trait as a charming contrast.

Yes. It was an undeniable fact that I enjoyed reading it… But why on earth was I forced to witness the life events of a fictional protagonist who had absolutely nothing to do with me?