Episode 1 - A Heavy Awakening
Her body felt heavy. It wasn't that she lacked strength, but the sheer weight was no joke. The thick flesh around her midsection felt utterly alien. Even sitting up took effort, thanks to the burdensome presence of those breasts—she couldn't help but question them. As she propped herself up, heavy locks of hair trailed after her, her thin limbs came into view, and only then did she notice how much lower her line of sight was than usual.
Pushing aside the unacceptable reality for the moment, she cautiously scanned her surroundings. This vast, luxurious room wasn't a hospital. It had to be someone's home—perhaps the owner of this body? Her numb reason was calmly accepting this absurd phenomenon. But that lasted only a moment. When she stepped toward the mirror in the corner of the room, her reason snapped back, forcing her to confront the truth.
Long, glossy black hair and red eyes caught her gaze, but more importantly, it was a woman's body. And on her forehead, two horns proclaimed that she was something other than human.
"Ah... ah..."
Trembling, she slowly brought her hand to her throat and let out a dazed sound. It was unmistakably a woman's voice.
What happened to my body? No, I fell to my death, right? So where did this body's original owner go?
She had no idea. Where the hell was this place? What were these horns? Her shaking eyes wandered the air, seeking answers to the mounting questions.
Glancing around, she walked toward the heavily drawn curtains and yanked them open with all her might.
Shwaaak!
As the dark fabric parted, the view beyond the window and glass filled her vision. She'd done it to at least figure out where she was, but it only deepened her confusion.
Vast black earth stretched out. It exuded a chilling, lifeless aura. Some trees were rotten husks, while others glowed faintly. The creatures prowling nearby were unlike anything she'd ever seen.
No, they were monsters, plain and simple.
She swallowed hard and calmly surveyed the surroundings, hoping that taking it all in would help her grasp the situation and calm down. But the more she saw, the greater the chaos in her mind—she felt like she was going insane.
The questions piled up. Where was this? She'd been working in Gyeonggi Province—somewhere other than that? Another region? No region looked like this. If she'd died, had someone dragged her body here to heal it? Was that how this impossible nonsense had happened?
Entertaining ridiculous ideas, she collapsed to the floor in a heap, at a total loss. Amid the confusion, as she floundered, a massive knocking sound came from the door. It seemed more perfunctory than polite—the door swung open without a reply.
A gigantic man. Easily over two meters tall, dressed in a neat suit, he gave off an indescribable presence. His sculpted features felt unnerving, like he was wearing a human skin. It wasn't mere discomfort—it was instinct telling her he was far from human. She began to tremble.
Is he the one who did this to me?
The suspicion amplified her anxiety, making it feel all too plausible. But before she could dwell on it, still slumped on the floor and shaking, the man shifted his gaze from the bed to her and smiled.
"My lady, you're awake? We were greatly worried, as you hadn't stirred for three days."
She racked her brain to extract maximum information from the conversation. My lady? Me? Lying here for three days? So he's not the one who did this? But this body has no memories anyway.
She had two options: improvise as the 'old her' based on gut feeling, or come clean. The sheer absurdity of the situation oddly steadied her. Gripping her settling emotions, she slowly opened her mouth.
Was it fear that admitting memory loss might get her killed? The thought flashed by, and her barely parted lips clamped shut again in anxiety. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she lowered her head and squeezed out the words.
"Just... leave me alone for a bit."
She'd agonized over formal or casual speech, but since he called her 'my lady,' casual seemed fitting for this body. She spoke cautiously. But perhaps opening her mouth at all was a mistake—the man's eyes widened. His glaring red eyes fixed on her, sending a crushing pressure that made her stomach churn.
A nauseating mix of unease and terror made her instinctively shrink back.
The man watched her for a moment before asking, "My lady. If I may be so bold... you are my lady, aren't you?"
In the end, she had to make the decision right there. No choice now but one. Bluffing without this body's memories could end badly, so honesty was safest. If I die, worry about it then.
With that, she squeezed her eyes shut and blurted it out.
"S-sorry. I lost my memories...!"
Unable to say more, she cracked her eyes open to peek at his reaction. He let out a short "Ah," and his eyes began to glisten with tears.
"...My lady, I apologize for causing you distress. It must be hard on you, and I pressed too hard..."
Safe. No need to hold back now. If he served her as 'my lady,' he knew plenty about this body—perfect time to ask. He seemed clueless about how she'd entered it, so she'd skip that and dig for info on the body itself.
"Sorry, but... can I ask a few things?"
"No need to apologize to me. Ask anything."
His loyalty was impressive. He approached carefully, knelt to meet her eye level, and smiled kindly. The initial uncanny human-mask vibe faded quickly, giving her body time to relax.
Looking at him, she thought of her first question. But what to call him? 'You'? 'Sir'? 'Hey'? He called her 'my lady,' but his suit said no slave. Servant? Too stiff. After agonizing, she pointed a slender finger at him.
"What's... your name?"
Better to learn him first before deciding how to address her own situation. He looked startled, as if hearing something unexpected, then softened and replied gently.
"I am your faithful servant, Kudbeka."
Tall and handsome, even kneeling his gaze towered over hers. She nodded lightly. No verbal reply—that'd be silly. Onto the next question.
"What's... my name?"
His eyes widened again in surprise, staring at her. Did she forget even that? She gave an awkward, bitter smile.
"Your name is Lobelia, Lobelia Yuris."
Lobelia Yuris. It felt awkward as hell. But denying it now would be pointless, so she let it slide and moved on. Her first words had tipped him off with the speech mismatch, not atmosphere. Cautiously, she asked what felt like an embarrassing question.
"Um... what was my usual way of talking like?"
This time, no shock—just a kind smile. "You tend to use a stiffer tone, my lady. But I like this one too."
Sudden sappy line left her speechless, so she just gave him a task. "...Yeah? Then... could you get me a map?"
"Right away."
Asking 'where are we' would yield place names she didn't know—a map was clearer. Curiosity about the country faded; with these horns, she'd be caged no matter where, mutant or not.
But something felt fundamentally wrong when she received the map. After asking 'where are we now?' and following his pointing finger to guess continent and country, even that failed.
"This... a country map?"
She knew it wasn't. No single country spanned such vastness.
"No, my lady."
She sighed heavily, staring blankly at the map on the floor from her seated position. Groaning, her eyes fixed on the central black land—it matched the outside.
She traced her finger up. "This is where we are, right?"
"Yes."
"I see..."
They spoke the same language, but she couldn't read the script. Frustrated, she pointed to the white text on the black land. "What's this say?"
"The Demon Realm."
"Demon Realm?"
"Yes. We are demons, after all."
Fuck, what? Not human? These horns no mutation, that bulk no mere bodyguard? So this body wasn't just some noble lady?
She groaned, breaking into cold sweat, turning to the window. Black earth. She was a demon, this the Demon Realm. Info piled up, questions half-resolved, but frustration lingered. What the hell was going on?
Reincarnation? But hijacking someone's body like this—stealing from the original owner? Worries mounted without answers. She shook her head to clear them. Worry later. Struggling up, her body wobbled from the breast weight.
How did busty women lug these around? Unfathomable.
"Ugh, anyway... leave me alone for a bit?"
"Understood. If you need me, snap your fingers twice. I'll come right away."
"Got it."
As she spoke to dismiss him, he bowed as if waiting and added that before leaving. He'd probably lingered unless told otherwise.
Alone now, the room fell silent again, but thoughts abounded. This body's owner: Lobelia Yuris. Horns a demon mark, not mutation. Demon Realm. So, a demon noble? Later. Sighing deeply, she shuffled to the bed.
Plop.
Wealthy family, clearly. Bed enveloped her softly; thick quilt cozy, not stifling. Novel sensation. How much does this cost? Daydreaming to shake anxiety, a sudden thought jolted her upright.
"Ugh."
Far from used to the weight, her gaze lingered on her chest. Hand drifted to a spot she'd overlooked amid shock. Know the answer, but gotta feel it to believe.
Hand slipped into the deep crevice, settling in. Only then did she groan "Uwaaah," collapsing back onto the bed.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
Up at dawn for grueling construction work, money earned and scattered unused. Fell dead, woke here—lost her manhood too. Mood plummeted. Staring blankly at the ceiling, she rubbed her dry face with her hands.
Elbow bumped soft breasts. Damn. So soft. Her chest—technically this body's—but plush. Confusing. Like she wasn't herself anymore.
Maybe a dream. Original Lobelia Yuris, just a nightmare. Wild thoughts, swallowed tears.
"......Fuck."
The voice—even to her—felt profoundly alien.