I Only Left One Supportive Comment
I only left one supportive comment, but the title of the romance fantasy webtoon I’d clicked out of sheer curiosity was Love on the Day of Judgment.
The story followed the standard pair of protagonists: a hero and a saintess who grew through adventures and trials. At first I thought it was just another run-of-the-mill royal-road tale, the kind where an obnoxiously upright hero and a saintly saintess overcome every crisis. But the deeper I read, the more blood soaked the pages. Characters I’d assumed were important dropped like flies, the world-building was darker than expected, and the erotic scenes kept coming. Yeah… I realized it was a dark fantasy with a few extra drops of cruelty stirred in.
And I transmigrated into one of its characters. Not into the Justitia Church of the Goddess of Order and Justice where the main couple belonged, but into Beatrice, the saintess of the Eris Church—the Goddess of Love and Combat.
Beatrice existed solely to make the villain Cassian look more vicious. She was a supporting character created to be trampled in both body and soul, used up and thrown away just to showcase his evil and brutality. The textbook definition of a ‘woman in the refrigerator.’ The level of cruelty was so extreme, and the implications of repeated sexual abuse so blatant, that someone like me—with zero tolerance for misery porn—couldn’t stomach it. I dropped the series during the Eris Church arc.
“Ugh… I can’t watch this anymore. I’ll binge it once it’s finished.”
I don’t even remember exactly when I closed the tab with that thought. After that, I forgot about it completely. Lived my life like it had never existed.
Then one day, on a community forum, I absentmindedly clicked a post and got completely spoiled on the ending. The hero’s party loses to the demons, and humanity is reduced to livestock, bred and farmed like cattle? A bad ending?
No way. The setting’s dark, sure, but they actually went with that? In a Korean webtoon?
Half-disbelieving, I reopened the series and skimmed the final episode. It was real.
I hate bad endings. Open endings suck too. I prefer something clichéd but complete—a proper happy ending.
Thank god I dropped it. If I’d kept reading, the damage would’ve been catastrophic.
With that thought, I casually opened the comment section. As expected, it was absolute chaos.
Colorful curses, scathing attacks on the author, and an absolute feast of random food recipes. I was cackling at the comments and copying the tastier-looking recipes into my notes when a thought suddenly flashed through my mind.
What would happen if I dropped a single supportive comment into this flaming dumpster fire of hate?
So I wrote one. A full-on, shameless defense of the author—the kind of brainless shield post that sounded like it came from someone terminally infected with artsy pretension.
It was just a prank. One drop of oil into an already raging fire. That’s all it was.
So why the fuck did I transmigrate into this webtoon?
“This fucking author bastard… is this how you repay kindness?”
If you’re going to isekai someone, at least pick the guy who wrote a 5,700-character rant or the one who spammed raw curses! All I did was laugh my ass off at the nuclear reactions to my comment before falling asleep. When I opened my eyes, I was in a stinking medieval back alley.
And my toned body—honed by years of exercise and martial arts—was gone. In its place was the scrawny frame of a starved little kid. But the worst part? The partner between my legs that I’d carried my whole life, the one I’d never even gotten to use properly, had vanished.
In the blink of an eye, a healthy Korean man in his twenties had become a filthy little street girl in the Middle Ages.
I bawled my eyes out the moment I realized I was a girl. Then I cried even harder when I realized exactly which story I’d fallen into.
But there was no time to sit around sobbing. Life as a back-alley urchin didn’t give you that luxury.
Begging for food only got you chased off by territorial beggars. Any coin a sympathetic passerby tossed your way would be stolen by thugs. Proper sleep was a fantasy. I could only curl up in a corner and snatch fragments of rest, because the second I fell into deep sleep, I’d wake up inside a slaver’s sack.
Hunger and misery wore away a modern person’s conscience in no time. I stole food when I was starving. I picked pockets while weaving through the market. When plague swept the alleys, I looted the belongings of the sick. I rummaged through corpses for anything useful or valuable.
Living like garbage, half a year slipped by. During that hellish time, I learned two things.
First, this body’s physical ability was abnormally high. A wooden stick I carried for self-defense could send a grown man flying into a wall with one swing. My movements when climbing walls were as agile as a cat’s.
Second, I sometimes had dreams that warned me of danger. The scenes I saw in those dreams became reality shortly after. Thanks to them, I could sense human traffickers or starving thugs before they struck and avoid them.
With monstrous physical ability and prophetic dreams, I somehow managed to survive alone in the back alleys for six long months despite being a child.
But it looked like that luck had finally run out.
Clatter clatter clatter—
That sound? It was my own body shaking. I was trembling so violently I felt like a living vibrator. Back in Korea I used to prefer winter over summer, but that was only possible when I had a warm house. I was learning that lesson the hard way.
Hugging an armful of branches, I crawled, still shivering, into the pathetic shelter I’d built under a bridge. I lit the branches, wrapped myself in a moldy blanket I’d scavenged from god-knows-where, and finally felt my frozen body begin to thaw.
“Fucking hell… it’s so goddamn cold…”
There was still a long way to go before winter ended. At this rate, I’d freeze to death before I could starve or get beaten to death. Cold was one thing neither my physical prowess nor my prophetic dreams could handle.
And recently, another problem had appeared. The more I grew, the more this body’s appearance stood out.
My hair—hacked off roughly like a rat had chewed it—was stained so badly you couldn’t tell its original color. My face was covered in soot. I wore stinking rags and was painfully thin, yet this body’s striking beauty couldn’t be completely hidden.
I still couldn’t forget the lecherous stares from men I’d received the one time I’d washed myself clean in the river.
But this body is a little girl, you sick fucks. Lusting after a child? You insane perverted bastards.
If this were Korea, every last one of them would’ve been fitted with electronic ankle monitors. This world was full of them.
To make things worse, rumors about a girl living alone in the back alleys must have spread. This morning, some clean-cut apprentice knight-looking brat had pointed straight at me and tried to take me away.
What did he say again? That he’d take me somewhere I could eat and live far better than here, so just follow him quietly?
I wasn’t some naïve kid who’d fall for pretty words. The moment he let his guard down, I smashed his temple with my wooden stick, knocked him out, beat the shit out of him, hung a sign around his neck that read I am a pervert who lusts after little girls, and ran.
I AM A PERVERT WHO LUSTS AFTER LITTLE GIRLS
After pulling something like that, it was obvious they’d be coming after me with fire in their eyes. These types who valued pride and chivalry and all that nonsense would never let an apprentice knight suffer that kind of humiliation. If I was unlucky, a whole squad of knights might show up.
My physical abilities were impressive for a kid, but against a group of trained knights? Nine times out of ten I’d get caught.
Then why the hell did you still provoke them, you idiot?
Because I had a plan. Honestly, with my personality, just thinking “I should leave” would’ve made me drag my feet indefinitely. But if staying meant I was genuinely fucked? Then I’d have no choice but to run as fast as possible. It was a two-for-one: vent my anger and give myself powerful motivation at the same time.
…Well, what’s done is done. I needed to get out of this ‘Orphan Kingdom’ as soon as possible. A place so shitty it lived up to its nickname, packed with nothing but trash.
“Hoo… Just make it through tonight and I’m gone.”
I’d beaten that apprentice knight this morning. I’d planned to slip away under cover of darkness this evening, but today of all days the blizzard was especially vicious. Setting out in this weather was a one-way ticket to getting lost and freezing to death.
I’d wait for the snow to die down. I’d already scouted times when security was lax and several holes in the outer wall. I wouldn’t get caught.
While I was comforting myself with those thoughts, feeding my precious fire with the firewood I’d set aside and sipping melted snow, I heard it.
Clank—
“……!”
My heart dropped. Between the howling wind and blizzard, the distinct sound of steel clanking reached my ears. Armor. And from the sound of it, more than just one or two. All those footsteps were heading straight for my hiding spot.
“Knights? I’m so fucked.”
One or two could’ve been mercenaries in scavenged armor, but that many? Definitely knights. Luckily I’d already packed my important belongings. I quickly slung the bundle over my shoulder and gripped my trusty wooden stick.
The blizzard would erase my tracks while I ran. Assuming I didn’t freeze to death first!
I stepped boldly out of the shelter into the whiteout where I couldn’t see even an inch ahead.
Then—
Thud—
“Ack!”
I slammed into something solid where there should’ve been open air. The unexpected impact sent me sprawling backward. I looked up from the ground. What I’d hit wasn’t a wall. It was hard metal armor.
Raising my gaze higher, through the swirling snow I saw a middle-aged knight with a rigid, upright face staring down at me with heavy eyes.
I’m so fucked.
“…We’ve finally found you.”
“Finally found you my ass! Die!”
My decision was instant. I swung my stick straight at the middle-aged knight’s head. A strike packed with a child’s unexpected strength and centrifugal force. If it hit the temple, it would at least cause a concussion. Even if he blocked it, I planned to use the opening to escape.
But—
Clang—
My plan shattered the moment the knight casually blocked the stick with his gauntlet.
“Hmm… I’m surprised. Now I understand why that rookie Leonid ended up in such a state.”
“You son of a—”
I was done. There was no running from this man. He wasn’t someone my sloppy skills could handle. After feeling the hopeless gap in a single exchange, I quickly pulled back my stick and retreated several steps to create distance.
“…My apologies. It seems my explanation was insufficient and caused you to be wary.”
I was still desperately looking for a way out when the knight suddenly knelt before me. I froze stiff on the spot.
Why is this old man kneeling? Huh? Don’t tell me this body is the abandoned child of royalty or a noble bastard or something?
“I am sorry for being so late. You must have suffered terribly.”
“Mister, what the hell are you—”
“I am Vargas, Knight Commander of the Eris Church’s Holy Knights.”
The middle-aged knight introduced himself and slightly lifted the cloak over his armor. On the chest plate, a thorny rose and sword were clearly engraved. The symbol of the Eris Church.
…Impersonating a church emblem was something not even the worst criminals would dare dream of. Which meant this man really was the Knight Commander of the Eris Church.
My mind went blank.
No way…… It can’t be, right? It can’t. I just transmigrated as some street urchin girl, that’s all. That has to be it.
My hands began to shake. The truth I had desperately ignored and buried while struggling to survive rose to the surface.
The gender of the body I possessed was female. The silver hair that had been revealed when I washed it that one time. The mysterious white eyes. The strange precognitive ability that let me avoid threats through dreams. And finally, the Knight Commander of the Eris Church who had come all the way to this filthy back alley to find me.
Every single clue pointed to only one character.
I prayed it wasn’t true. Please don’t let it be. I repeated it hundreds of times in my head as I stared blankly at Vargas’s slowly moving lips.
“I have come to escort you, Saintess.”
The moment I heard those words, I fainted on the spot.