The Sickly Beauty Craves Chicken

It was an ordinary day, just like any other. Overcast skies thanks to the clouds, people bustling about since morning. Puppies barking by the roadside. On such a utterly commonplace day, I received the diagnosis.

"It's cancer."

"...Pardon?"

Cancer. I had cancer.

I'd gone to the hospital because I'd been feeling off lately, but never in my wildest dreams did I expect this answer. The situation left me dizzy, utterly reeling.

Misfortune strikes without warning, sure—but this was too sudden, wasn't it?

"You'll need to prepare yourself mentally."

Deep down, I hoped it was a lie, but no such luck.

After the terminal prognosis, my body deteriorated rapidly. It grew harder and harder to move, and I ended up spending most of my days confined to a hospital bed.

They say the hardest part after a terminal diagnosis is telling those around you, but that wasn't an issue for me. Orphaned with no parents, no close friends, and only loose ties to the coworkers from my short stint at a job.

I didn't even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠feel lonely or forlorn. I'd been alone since birth—what was there to feel lonely about?

At most, I regretted a life with nothing to show for it. That was it.

...Well, actually, there was one thing that was really tough.

"I wanna eat chicken...."

Chicken, pizza, burgers, pork stir-fry, pork soup, kimchi stew, pork belly... Anything, just something delicious. I wanted food with flavor, not this tasteless white rice porridge!

Before my hospitalization, I'd been a real foodie. Eating was one of the few joys in my life. I worked to earn money for good eats, lived for the thrill of a tasty meal.

But now? It was pure hell.

I was writhing on the bed, howling in anguish, when it hit me.

Wait, I'm terminal anyway.

With who-knows-how-much time left, why bother with diets? I could just eat whatever I wanted, right?

No hesitation. I snuck out of the hospital and gorged on everything I'd been craving. In those moments, all the regret and gloom about my life ending just... vanished. Pure bliss.

But nothing in this world is free. I paid the price for my gluttony.

"What on earth did you eat, patient?!"

"Gaaah!"

That night, I rolled on the hospital floor, vomiting up everything I'd scarfed down. Bonus: gut-wrenching pain like my insides were being twisted.

All because I'd ignored my already-weakened digestive system.

After that, I followed the doctor's orders to the letter. I never wanted to feel that agony again.

So I lay there like a corpse, dutifully choking down white porridge day after day.

I wanna eat something tasty....

With that burning desire, I closed my eyes for the last time.

*

And when I came to, this was the scene.

"Oh dear, oh dear... Ha-yeon-ah!"

A white-haired old man was hugging me tight, sobbing his heart out. The head of this household, Seongjin Group's chairman Song Han-su.

Hey, Grandpa. You're heavy. Can't breathe—let go a bit?

Wait, Grandpa?

I'd never had a grandpa. I was an orphan, raised without parents. No grandparents, no family at all.

Why was I thinking of Seongjin Group's chairman Song Han-su as my grandfather?

As confusion swirled, memories that weren't mine began surfacing naturally in my mind.

Memories of this body's original owner: Song Ha-yeon, Seongjin Group's heiress and frail chaebol third-generation scion.

What the hell is this?

Possession? Reincarnation? Or transmigration?

They didn't feel foreign. No awkwardness of hijacking someone else's body.

Because this was my body.

Even now, awakening as Song Ha-yeon, it didn't feel like I'd stolen someone else's life. It felt like I was finally living the life I was meant to.

I was Song Ha-yeon, daughter of Seongjin Group's chairman Song Han-su, Korea's top conglomerate leader.

And at the same time, a healthy Korean man with no family, dying of cancer.

Hmm.

My jumbled thoughts settled into place.

People drop dead from sudden cancer all the time, turning terminal overnight. Why couldn't there be a next life?

I decided to think positively. A new life? Awesome!

I'd thought death was the end, but here I was, alive again. Total luck!

Maybe some pitying god took mercy on my sudden, pitiful end and gave me another shot.

Things I could do in Song Ha-yeon's body flashed through my mind: boiling ramen at dawn, devouring a face-sized pork cutlet, crispy fried chicken with beer.

Wait, Song Ha-yeon was still a minor—beer might be off-limits?

Looking at the list, everything boiled down to eating delicious food.

Unlike my past self, as a chaebol kid, I could have anything I wanted. But what could I do? After dying on a steady diet of white porridge, I craved flavor.

Just thinking about it makes my mouth water. Slurp.

Couldn't hold back anymore. I grabbed the wrist of Song Han-su, who was clinging to me, tears streaming.

"...Grandpa."

"Ooh, yes! Ha-yeon-ah. It's your gramps, gramps!"

He gazed at me with eyes full of love, as if to say anything, just name it.

I squeezed out my raspy voice to convey my heart's desire.

"...Chick."

"Eh?"

"I want... chicken....!"

But Grandpa's response was a shock.

His face fell into sorrow as he stroked my cheek.

"Ha-yeon-ah ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠can't eat chicken...."

"Wha."

Maybe never again—

I could almost hear the unspoken end to his words. My vision blurred, the world fading to black.

*

"Impressive...."

Seongjin, Seongjin, and more Seongjin. Every swipe ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on my smartphone brought up Seongjin Group articles.

No need to search—these topped the portal site's front page. Politics, economy, entertainment—didn't matter. Seongjin Group's name was everywhere.

Magic Crystal? What's that?

A word I'd never seen before. Used without explanation, so probably common knowledge.

Other terms felt off too: Tower, exploration teams, climbers.

Something's... different.

Same Korea, same 21st century, but off somehow. I'd figure it out in time.

More importantly:

The whole world is Seongjin.

I nodded at the top-recommended article's comments. Spot on. The world revolved around Seongjin.

"Fallen into an insane family."

Yes. This body—Song Ha-yeon, 15 years old—was Seongjin Group's one and only granddaughter.

Her parents' side had died young in an accident, so Grandpa Song Han-su raised her. Frail since childhood, she collapsed often.

This time, she'd woken after a week unconscious.

No clue on the exact disease, but some rare, untreatable illness.

Past life: orphan. This life: chaebol heiress. The stark contrast thrilled me briefly.

But then:

"Tsk, tsk, tsk...."

What good was a great family if your health sucked? Still ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stuck in hospitals.

After dying young from cancer, my values had shifted. Health above all. Health first, second, and last.

Chaebol or orphan—sick is sick. I was learning that truth firsthand.

"Miss, it's mealtime."

"Oh, come on."

My personal secretary-cum-nurse brought food again. White porridge, naturally.

Word was, Song Ha-yeon—like my past self—couldn't handle anything else. No seasoning, no flavoring. Just plain white mush.

"Um, Secretary."

"Feel free to speak casually, Miss."

"Can't I have something else?"

"Ah...."

She trailed off awkwardly, then steeled herself with a firm expression.

"I'm sorry, Miss."

"Sigh...."

Yeah, figured as much. I got it. If I were them, I wouldn't feed a kid with an incurable disease who'd just passed out anything but safe mush.

Begging the head doctor or Grandpa wouldn't change a thing.

The problem? I'd already been stuck like this for nearly a month.

"Better to die than live like this...."

"Miss! What are you saying?!"

"Oops."

Slipped out unintentionally. But it was my honest thought.

Locked in a hospital forever, surviving on white porridge?

Death before that. I needed a plan, and fast.