Let's Communicate

Alright, I've made up my mind. For the sake of my own freedom... I will definitely awaken Carla as Lucian's true mother!

Not for the male lead. Not for that villainess mother-in-law. Purely for preserving my own sanity and escaping this goddamn cow life.

That's what I should've been thinking as I drifted off to sleep, but...

“Haa......” A sigh slipped out on its own. I was exhausted. Insanely exhausted. Even right before I possessed this body, I'd stayed up all night in my original world binge-reading that shitty romance fantasy, so my soul's fatigue had already shattered every limit long ago. And then the moment I woke up in this world, I got hit with breastfeeding, assaulting the Grand Duke, and a territorial pissing match with the lady of the house. The breakneck tempo of this spectacular family drama was melting my brain cells into sludge.

Sena's body might have possessed knight-captain level physical prowess and felt no fatigue, but the ordinary Korean salaryman soul stuffed inside it was ready to scream logout and faint on the spot.

Except... sleep wouldn't come.

I was too anxious to sleep. What if the kid wakes up and starts wailing while I'm dozing? What if Lucian kicks off his blanket and catches a cold because I'm not there? What if he suddenly cries for milk and I'm too tired to wake up? What if I toss and turn in my sleep and he falls out of the cradle?

Was this the infamous paranoia that new parents always talked about in those videos? No matter how much of a man I was on the inside, staring at such a fragile little life that could shatter from a single breath made it impossible to relax. I can't sleep because I'm too anxious....

And if I didn't respond instantly to Lucian's cries because I was sleeping, this insane body might take over again, slapping my own cheek or choking me out.

“This is actually driving me crazy......”

I forced my eyes shut and tried counting sheep, tossing and turning, but I couldn't last even five minutes before I sat up on the sofa. Lying still only amplified the wild scenarios in my head. Moving around and burning off the anxiety seemed like the better option.

I rose onto the balls of my feet and began silently pacing the nursery. The real maids had already cleaned it until not a speck of dust remained, but I still grabbed a towel from the corner and started furiously wiping down the windowsill, side table, and wooden cradle decorations. It was completely pointless. I was just performing obsessive cleaning to kill time and silence my racing thoughts.

Scrub. Scrape.

While I was lost in a trance, mechanically wiping in the darkness...

......Huh?

Suddenly the movement of my hands felt strangely alien. It was subtly different from the sensation of consciously flexing my arm muscles to scrub with the towel. It felt like there was some kind of buffering lag. I'd only thought about wiping the windowsill, yet my body was automatically tracing the most efficient path to clean every trace of dust.

It was like someone had turned on an auto-hunting macro inside the body of a veteran maid who'd cleaned this room for decades.

In an instant, all the previous incidents flashed through my mind. The hand that had choked my own throat when I tried to run away from Lucian. The hand that had slapped my cheek when I tried to slack off on breastfeeding. The merciless knife-hand strike that had knocked out the beastly Grand Duke in heat.

This body...... definitely has its own ego and intelligence.

Another entity that could perceive specific situations, make judgments, and take physical action even against my will. Sena's soul hadn't completely vanished; it was powerfully lingering somewhere in the subconscious. Normally I held the reins, but in certain situations, I was clearly engaged in a brutal tug-of-war with this body over control.

Once that realization hit, curiosity rose in me stronger than fear.

Can we...... communicate?

If I could talk with this body, maybe I could avoid getting slapped or choked. If we could negotiate priorities and find some compromise, this miserable life in the Grand Duke's residence might become a little more bearable.

I set down the towel and approached the small desk in the corner of the nursery. I didn't turn on the light in case it woke Lucian. Groping in the dark, I opened the drawer, pulled out blank paper and a quill pen, and set the inkwell on the desk.

Alright. Let's give this a shot.

I sat in the chair and gripped the quill in my right hand. After taking a deep breath, I squeezed my eyes shut.

Hey. Body. Or should I say, Sena. Can you hear me? If you can, give me some kind of reaction.

I sent the message inward as strongly as if shouting directly into my own mind. I blocked out my vision and focused every ounce of attention on the sensation in my fingertips.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds...... Nothing.

Guess it doesn't work. What was I thinking, I'm not the protagonist of some movie......

Just as disappointment made me start to open my eyes—

Scritch—

“......!”

My right hand, still holding the pen, began moving with fluid elegance completely independent of my will. I could clearly feel the muscles in my arm contracting and relaxing, but my brain was issuing zero commands. A chill raced up my spine. Was this what it felt like to experience a real-life Ouija board or spirit writing?

Scratch. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Scratch.

In the darkness, the sound of the pen nib scraping across paper rang out clearly. The body wrote rapidly, without hesitation, filling the page with long sentences.

Whoa, holy shit. It's actually writing? This is insane.

The movement stopped after what seemed like a full sentence. Brimming with anticipation, I snapped my eyes open. Relying on the faint moonlight, I peered down at the words on the paper. The handwriting was impeccably neat and elegant.

“.......”

But there was a problem. Sena's body had naturally written in this world's language, and the Korean man inside me had never seen these characters before in his life.

“Hey. I can't read this language. Write in Korean, Korean!”

Whoosh—!

My left hand shot ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up and clamped brutally over my mouth and nose.

“Mmph?!”

It sealed my mouth so tightly that not even a scream could escape. At the same time, my empty right hand drew back in a wide arc, muscles tensing like coiled springs.

Wait, hold on. What the hell are you—

THUD—!!!

“Guh......!!!!”

My own right fist drove a merciless full-swing punch straight into my solar plexus.

This crazy bitch is giving me a self-inflicted gut punch......

The impact hit my stomach like my eyeballs were about to pop out. With my mouth covered, I couldn't even scream. Tears and snot burst out simultaneously.

Ughhhk......! Kkhhk......!

I tumbled off the chair and rolled across the floor. Stomach acid surged upward, but miraculously the body kept my left hand clamped over my mouth the entire time so I wouldn't vomit and disturb Lucian's sleep.

After writhing for what felt like forever, unable to breathe, the pain finally began to subside. With trembling hands, I pried the left hand away from my mouth.

“You...... insane body......! Haa, haa......!”

I gasped for air and wiped away my tears. It hurt like a bitch. It felt like my solar plexus had caved in. I'd made one joke and nearly died in another world.

“Fuck...... I was kidding! It was a joke! Look with your own damn eyes, you crazy bitch! It auto-translates! You stupid bitch!!”

The moment I looked at the characters, their meaning had automatically translated into Korean inside my head, as if some system had activated. I'd just been testing her. But the instant this insane body decided the possessor couldn't understand and was therefore useless trash, it had tried to destroy its host without hesitation.

A truly merciless woman.

With legs still shaking, I barely managed to sit back down in the chair. Eyes still watery, I glared at the first sentence the body had written. Bathed in moonlight, the words looked even more brutal and spine-chilling now that my gut had been turned into a punching bag.

No greeting. No pleasantries. Just a death threat to protect Lucian—the sole purpose and reason for its existence.

“Haha...... Yeah. It's actually kind of admirable how clear your priorities are, you fucking bitch.”

I rubbed my aching solar plexus and let out a hollow laugh. As if accepting my surrender, my right hand began moving again right after that terrifying introduction. This time it didn't stop at one line.

Scratch scratch.

At terrifying speed, it densely filled the remaining space on the paper.

The schedule was packed so tightly that one sheet of paper was barely enough. A hellish timetable of feeding, cleaning poop, putting him to sleep, and cleaning every two hours. And I even had to wake up every two hours at night to stand by for feeding.

I stared down at the murderous schedule with a horrified expression.

“Hey. Are you kidding me? You expect me to do all this alone? How many maids does the Grand Duke's house even have? No shift work? What kind of barbaric bastards don't even have labor laws?”

In response to my grumbling, new words rapidly appeared on the paper.

“......Ha.”

I was speechless. A one-year-old was already this picky about milk flavor?

What a ridiculously fussy little young master. Just eat whatever you're given, kid.

The moment the thought crossed my mind—

SLAP—!!

“Aack!!”

This time it was my left cheek. My left hand flew up and smacked it hard. It was on a completely different level from the slap Carla had given me earlier. My skull rattled. This ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bitch really had no mercy for her own body.

Fuck! I only thought it! Why hit me for that!!

“Ugh, this is really......!”

Rage boiled up at the realization that even my inner thoughts were being monitored in real time. There had to be limits to invasion of privacy. Sharing the very depths of my soul only to get slapped for one muttered complaint about the kid? I let out a hollow laugh at this body's twisted duality, clenched my teeth, and shot back.

“Wow, this is fucking hilarious. So loyal to your lord and so devoted to the kid, yet you had the nerve to secretly seduce the husband behind Carla's back and have an affair. Must be real fun cosplaying as the perfect mother while wearing the title of homewrecker, huh?”

Suddenly, the hand holding the pen froze in midair.

The body's violent resistance that had been pounding my cheek and solar plexus vanished like a lie. As if struck where it hurt and rendered speechless, the fingertips began to tremble faintly.

And this time, even though I kept my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eyes wide open and watched clearly, the hand moved with heavy slowness, as if crushed under an immense weight, and began to write.

As I read through Sena's desperate confession and plea, I stroked my chin.

Oh ho. Would you look at that?

Sena's request perfectly matched the survival plan I'd made earlier. Reconciliation between Carla and Lucian. Carla's return as the true mistress of the house. Sena desired it as atonement for her guilt. I desired it for the freedom of my soul and liberation from this annoying childcare.

Our motives were completely different, but our destination was the same.