A Wrong Turn at the Beginning
I, Han Chansu. Twenty-four years old. Third-year business major. My father is the chairman of a mid-sized company, so tuition, living expenses, and credit card bills have never been a worry in my life. It might sound obnoxious, but honestly, I've never once stressed about money from the day I was born until now.
But if you asked me whether that made me happy... well, it was just okay. Not particularly unhappy, but not exactly thrilling either. It felt like I was simply rolling along on the rails my father had laid down for me.
That's why my hobby became web novels. I needed something different from reality, something with a fresh color. And web novels perfectly met my expectations—one hundred percent.
That day was no different. It was two in the morning. I was lying in bed, reading the latest chapter of a new series...
The Prince of Stars and the Seven Colors.
It was a harem romance fantasy where seven heroines competed to win the heart of Prince Leon. Honestly, it wasn't really my taste, but the illustration quality was so insanely good that I clicked in and ended up binge-reading the whole thing.
Prince Leon was the typical cold and arrogant male lead of a romance fantasy, the heroines each had distinct personalities and charm, the plot was solid, and the illustrations were, without exaggeration, beautiful.
But that day, a new chapter dropped with a fresh illustration.
It was a scene of Leon looking down over the imperial capital streets. A grand composition, a lavish background, and countless cheering extras in the distance. Naturally, your eyes should have gone straight to the prince.
But mine didn't.
"...!"
My gaze was glued to the far left corner of the image.
Among the crowd painted as mere background, everyone else was blurred together like scenery—except for one girl who was drawn with unnatural clarity.
Worn-out clothes. Black hair, black eyes. A slightly hollow-cheeked girl who looked about eighteen. She was unrealistically beautiful. The level of detail on her face was far too much for a mere background character. Had the artist accidentally put too much effort into her? Or had their hand moved on its own without realizing?
"Whoa..."
I spent a full five minutes just zooming in on that corner.
She's way too pretty??
Then I opened the author's comment section and started typing.
After sending them, I snapped back to reality for a second.
"...Huh?"
What the hell did I just do?
Embarrassment washed over me, but it was already too late. The comment section didn't have an unsend button.
"Ah, whatever... it'll be fine somehow."
I closed my phone and went to sleep just like that.
But the next day.
"Haaaaaaaam..."
"...Huh?"
When I opened my eyes, something was wrong.
A wooden ceiling. Cracked walls. The smell of mold and decay. I wasn't lying on a bed but on a hard floor, and both my wrists and ankles were tied with ropes.
"...What?"
"Wait, hold on... just a second..."
"What the hell????"
My brain had already given up on processing the situation, and only stupid sounds kept spilling from my mouth.
"...First... let's get up—"
"Ugh!"
I tried to stand, but the ropes only let me lift my upper body a little. Looking around, it was a tiny room. One window. One broken jar. A space with literally nothing that could be called furniture.
—Creak.
The door swung open.
"Oh? You're already awake?"
It was a girl.
Black hair. Black eyes. Slightly hollow cheeks.
"You...!"
The face I'd seen in the corner of last night's illustration was right in front of me.
"Just a moment, I'll bring breakfast!"
The girl trotted off somewhere and quickly returned, holding an old bowl in her hands.
Inside the bowl was white porridge. So thin it was basically water. With some grayish lumps mixed in...
"Hehe... This is our house's special meal—we eat it once every three days. Boiling it with tree bark makes it a little more filling. It's not much, but please eat..."
I looked back and forth between the bowl and the girl's face.
Pieces were clicking together in my head.
The changed face. The luxurious clothes I was wearing. Background extra. Commoner. Tree-bark porridge. And the information about this world that had been forcibly injected into my mind.
"...No way."
No way. No way no way no way no way.
"Um..."
"Yes?"
"...Where am I right now?"
The girl tilted her head for a moment, then smiled brightly.
"This is our house, Your Highness the Prince."
"The palace is quite far from here... hehe."
"..."
"You won't try to run away, right? You understand?"
Something had gone terribly wrong.
Clearly. Something was definitely, horribly wrong.
"...Fuck."
The curse slipped out of my mouth completely naturally.