The Crazy Girl Who Carries Her Heart in Her Hand

“Huh?”

I asked back.

The examiner did not answer. His face was the face of a man who could not answer—frozen exactly like someone who had just watched a new student reach into her own chest, pull out her heart, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and set it on the desk in front of him.

No, that was precisely what he thought he was looking at.

“Why are you holding a heart in your hand?” he asked again.

I looked down at the blue orb resting in my palm.

Yeouiju.

The name rose in my mind with unnatural ease. No one had told me what it was. This body simply knew. This was mine. The center of my power, a strange pearl that reacted even before my body did.

But a heart?

It wasn’t a heart, was it?

Probably.

“This isn’t a heart, though.”

The air inside the examination room grew colder still. My words had clearly made everything worse.

The examiner’s lips twitched.

“Student.”

“Yes.”

“It has the same mana wavelength as a Dragon Heart.”

“Ah.”

“There is also a linked life response.”

“Ahh.”

“It is presumed to be the owner’s core mana pathway.”

“Ahhh.”

The more he spoke, the less confident I became. Was this thing actually a heart? No way. If it were a heart, I wouldn’t be sitting here with it casually parked on my palm right now.

Then again, I had woken up this morning transformed from a man into an Azure Dragon beautiful girl, so common sense had probably already thrown itself out the window.

The examiner carefully stretched out a hand.

“If I may just check—”

“Uh.”

I instinctively clutched the Yeouiju to my chest. My body moved first. Faster than if someone had tried to snatch my wallet.

The examiner’s hand froze in midair. Behind me, someone sucked in a sharp breath.

“Did you see that just now?”

“She protected her heart.”

“So it really is an external heart, huh.”

“Insane.”

Whispers rippled outward like a wave. No. It wasn’t a heart. I kept telling them. Yet even I didn’t understand why I had reacted so sharply. The moment someone reached out, pure instinct screamed that I hated it. I must not let it be stolen. I must not lose it. This was mine. That was simply how I felt.

“Student,” the examiner said with extreme caution. “Could you set that object down?”

“I don’t want to.”

The answer shot out before I could stop it. The examination room fell silent again. I clamped my mouth shut a second too late. I was screwed. Anyone listening would have heard that as “I don’t want you taking my heart.”

One of the professors leaned toward another and whispered low.

“The protective instinct is acting strongly.”

“If it’s a specimen with an external Dragon Heart, that might be a natural reaction.”

“Does that even make sense? If the Dragon Heart is outside the body, it shouldn’t be alive.”

“Yet it is alive.”

“That’s the bigger problem.”

Stop it. I can hear you. I can hear every word. Being a dragon apparently came with excellent hearing—excellent in the worst possible way. The quieter the professors tried to be, the clearer every syllable became.

“Should we prepare a protective case for the heart?”

“The owner is highly likely to refuse.”

“Then we start with a psychological evaluation.”

“Is psychological counseling even meaningful for a student who walks around holding her own heart?”

It was meaningful. In fact, it might have been exactly what I needed most right now. But having the reason listed as “walks around carrying her heart outside her body” felt deeply unfair from the jump. I had never once carried my own heart around. Probably.

Still cradling the Yeouiju, I carefully read the room. Straight ahead: a pale examiner. To the left: a professor who had dropped his pen. To the right: a teaching assistant frozen solid while holding a recording artifact. Behind me: a pack of freshmen craning their necks as if a free show had broken out.

And among them, one red-haired girl was staring straight through me.

She was impossible to miss. Long red hair. Sharp red eyes. Small red horns rising from her head. A short cloak over her uniform, trimmed with gold. No one would ever mistake her for an ordinary freshman. Even someone who had only lightly dabbled in the game knew that face.

The Red Dragon Princess. One of the main heroines of Dragon Heart Romance. Her name was probably Erika Rubellion. The prideful, combat-obsessed princess. Always first in fire-attribute practicals, the main heroine who challenged the original protagonist to a duel early in the route.

I muttered inwardly, Wow. She’s actually real.

But why was she looking at me like that?

Erika was not smiling. It wasn’t mockery either. Wariness. Curiosity. And a faint thread of irritation. Exactly that kind of gaze.

“That’s supposed to be a dragon?” she said. Her voice was clear. The surrounding chatter quieted a little at the single sentence. Because it was the Red Dragon Princess speaking. In this world, bloodline was authority. And the Rubellion family ranked among the most prestigious of the Red Dragon nobility.

Erika’s eyes swept over the blue horns on my head, the wingless back, and finally the Yeouiju I was hugging to my chest.

“No wings, no breath organ, and she carries her heart around outside?”

“I already said it’s not a heart,” I protested quietly. She didn’t listen.

“Interesting.” The corner of Erika’s mouth curved upward. It was less a smile than the expression of someone who had just found a fight worth having. “The academy really will accept anything these days.”

For a moment the atmosphere inside the examination room turned strange. Someone stifled a laugh. Someone else watched carefully for reactions. I watched carefully too. What was I supposed to say here? The other party was the Red Dragon Princess. I was a bug-species Azure Dragon that didn’t even exist in the original work. Social status, world-building knowledge, and adaptation to my current gender were all sitting at rock bottom. A normal human would have lowered their head and let it pass.

But I was not a normal human. Strictly speaking, I wasn’t human anymore at all. And more importantly—I was Kim Cheong-yong. A professional troll with hundreds of banned gallery accounts. A keyboard warrior who typed six thousand characters a minute. The kind of rebel who always added one more line right when he should have shut up.

“I know, right?” My nightingale-sweet voice rang out quietly. Erika’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “I was thinking the same thing—that the academy really will accept anything.”

“What?”

“For example, people who call complete strangers ‘anything.’”

“Ah, I just did that too, didn’t I.”

“Let’s call it even.”

The second the words left my mouth, regret flooded in. Not so much regret as a system notification.

It felt exactly like every gallery mod in my head had simultaneously posted an announcement. But my mouth had already committed the crime, and I was the owner of that mouth.

The examination room froze. Not literally, but the air sure felt like it. The examiner’s face was even paler than before. The students behind me stood with their mouths open. Someone whispered, “She’s dead.”

I thought the same thing. Mouth, why did you do that.

But it was already too late. Erika Rubellion slowly smiled. A much clearer smile than the earlier one.

“You.” She took one step closer. Those red eyes gleamed right in front of my face. “What’s your name?”

“Cheongha.”

“Family?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Attribute?”

“No idea?”

“Breath?”

“Apparently none.”

“Wings?”

“As you can see.”

“Heart?”

“I keep telling you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it’s not.”

Erika pressed her lips together as if holding back a laugh. She tilted her head.

“Good.”

What part of this was good.

“After the entrance ceremony, come to the Training Ground.”

“Why?”

“Duel.”

“I don’t want to.”

My answer was fast. This time it was an extremely sensible reaction. The other party was the Red Dragon Princess. I still didn’t even understand the structure of my own body. A duel? Was she insane? I was a brand-new TS Azure Dragon freshman who had just rolled out of bed. I hadn’t even cleared up the heart misunderstanding yet.

Yet Erika did not look like someone who had just been refused. If anything, she looked more amused.

“Scared?”

“Yes.”

“You admit it right away?”

“Would you rather I bluff here and then burn to death?”

This time a few students burst out laughing. Erika paused for a second. My reaction was clearly outside her expectations. A prideful dragon would have been supposed to snap ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠back with “Who’s scared?!” But I didn’t know dragon society. And I wasn’t a Western dragon—I was an Eastern dragon. I had pride, sure, but it wasn’t more expensive than my life.

The examiner hastily cut in. “Your Highness, we are in the middle of an examination. Duel challenges require formal procedure.”

“I know.” Erika ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠took one step back. Her gaze, however, remained locked on me. “Cheongha.” She said my name. “You’re funny.”

“Thank you?”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“I figured.”

Erika snorted another short laugh, then turned away. Her red tail swayed leisurely behind her. Watching that retreating back, I quietly let out a breath. I barely survived. Wait—did I?

On the very first day of school I had already been marked by the Red Dragon Princess. On top of that, the faculty seemed to have classified me as a dangerous specimen walking around with an external Dragon Heart.

The examiner’s trembling hand wrote something on the form. I sneaked a look.

The last line had been underlined twice. I was going to lose my mind.

Clutching the Yeouiju to my chest, I muttered inwardly, Past me. Stay. Please, stay. Don’t leave that comment.

But past me had already left the comment. And present me was already an Azure Dragon.

Specifically: the crazy girl who walks around carrying her heart in her hand.