Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: The Woman in the Mirror
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The digital clock on the kitchen wall read 11:12.
When I'd opened my eyes, it had looked like sometime around ten.
Meaning an hour had already passed... After waking up, I'd just lain there in a daze, my body groaning all over, and somehow a full hour had gone by.
Honestly, it was hard to believe.
It felt like at least ten hours. Whatever. It had to be right.
Not just the time—even my own body felt unreal. Was this reality or a dream? Some brain delusion? Mental illness? Everything blurred together, so I just had to accept it.
"Haa..."
The house had no lived-in feel; there wasn't even a full-length mirror.
Fortunately, a decent mirror was attached to the inside of the closet door. I could finally take a good look at the body I'd newly inherited.
Large eyes blinked.
The face had incredibly delicate lines.
Slightly drooping eyes with big, pitch-black pupils. Those huge, beautiful eyes were the first thing to grab attention.
Black irises without a trace of brown or gray, so dark they seemed to swallow light whole.
And with skin that was strikingly pale, the contrast pulled the gaze even harder.
No matter how I tried to describe them, nothing came out but "incredibly beautiful eyes." A real stunner...
"Hahaha."
The situation was so ridiculous I laughed on purpose, and the beauty in the mirror laughed right along.
It felt awkwardly unnatural.
"..."
I turned back to the mirror.
Tall build, long slender limbs. A beauty.
Not just any beauty—one so striking you'd suspect she worked in entertainment. The kind you rarely spot on the street.
Long-sleeved white cotton tee, black manhwa pants—a plain outfit, but it highlighted her pale skin without looking tacky.
No. Her skin was genuinely white. Exceptionally so.
At this level, it went beyond "good skin" into almost sickly territory.
Thinking of the scattered pills around the room, maybe it really was a sign of illness... Fuck.
I didn't want to dwell on that.
I shook my head side to side to shake off the grim thoughts, and my temples throbbed.
Shit. This is enough to drive anyone mad...
Anyway, to emphasize again: an incredible beauty. S-grade provincial level or whatever.
The softly drooping eye corners gave even a blank expression a gentle vibe.
The big round eyes lent an intellectual air, even in this disheveled state.
Forcing the mouth corners up still looked picturesque; furrowed brows and twisted cheeks somehow had their own charm.
This face made life blatantly unfair.
Yeah.
So stunning you couldn't fathom attempting suicide with sleeping pills.
No. Since she was gone now, it wasn't an attempt—it had succeeded.
Suicide successful, perhaps.
Not much consolation there.
Thanks to the wretched condition, my endlessly leaking, spinning thoughts began to settle bit by bit.
Still far from normal, but I could at least buy into this as some webnovel-style freak occurrence.
I had no choice but to accept it.
I still had zero clue how I'd slipped into her spot, but... the immediate situation was starting to click.
Of course, not perfectly.
A sliver of doubt lingered: maybe I was just mentally ill.
But I dug through my memories. All twenty-seven years.
Lee Jin-cheol. Twenty-seven. Male.
Residence: Incheon. Birthplace: Incheon.
Not a full native—moved around a lot as a kid following my parents' jobs.
Height: 178. Actually 177.7 cm.
Not just basics; detailed stuff too.
The academy from middle school third year to high school second.
The alley to XDonald's where I skipped night study often.
Close friends' names. Some dumbass episodes.
Getting hooked on that godawful game during school—the most fun I'd ever had.
Tanking the CSAT and retaking.
But nailing my personal best next time, turning disaster into triumph.
Acquaintances from that trash game. Parry freaks' avatars from colosseum duels.
From ancient memories to recent shit, piecing it together built certainty.
"I'm Lee Jin-cheol. Gotta be."
Memories this detailed and sharp? I wasn't some run-of-the-mill delusional nutjob.
It let me forcibly tamp down the panic.
No. Not really.
Teeth still chattering, breaths ragged even standing still.
Still. If I couldn't stay calm, at least fake it.
Anyway, progress.
Ruled out crap like "I'm a woman deluded into thinking I'm a guy" or "kidnapped by a cartel for forced reassignment surgery."
"Then... what? Real soul possession?"
Honestly, still skeptical.
I enjoyed webnovels, sure, but swallowing sudden unscientific bullshit like possession? Tough.
But what could I do?
My balls were gone, swapped for hefty fat sacks on my chest.
Count the unknowns: endless.
Was this my world?
2025? Or past or future?
My old body okay?
Vegetable in a hospital bed?
Or her soul in my body, fucking shit up over there?
Endless what-ifs, zero answers.
Pondering more felt like a time sink.
This woman had attempted suicide.
Probably succeeded.
And I'd filled the vacancy.
Reason? Process? No clue. Unimaginable. No way to find out.
"..."
Head still foggy. Drug hangover, probably.
Damn. Just thinking about those pills gives me chills.
Thoughts I'd barely sorted scattered wildly again.
Refocus. No—don't even go there. Skip the drugs.
"Haha... ha... haa..."
If a goddess had gone "O hero, slay the demon lord," I'd have a shot at going back. No goddess. Not even a ghost.
No 5700-character cliche post. No shady grandpa heirloom. So why me...?
??????
No way.
[I bet my two balls lololol]
Really?
For one shitpost like that?
I frantically groped between my legs.
I already knew, but nothing was there.
Of course. No two down below—instead, two new ones up top on my chest.
[I bet my two balls lololol]
Ridiculous, but it naturally recalled the webnovel I'd read before bed.
Something clicked. Was that crap post a cliche?
Thinking about it, kinda like the 5700-char thing... maybe, maybe not...
Then what is this?
Real isekai reincarnation? Actual possession?
...Then maybe this too?
.
.
Nah. No way.
Still...
Yeah. Just in case.
.
.
"...Status window!!"
Of course.
No—after today, "of course" felt loaded. Who knew anymore.
Probably though.
Nothing appeared.
"..."
No translucent hologram visible only to me.
No status fairy or AI chatter.
Glanced around just in case.
No change.
"...Pffft."
Suddenly. A chuckle escaped.
Excruciatingly embarrassing.
"...Heh... hahaha... Info window!!"
What a clown. What the hell was I doing?
Seriously.
What kind of bullshit was this?
"Stat window!!"
Fuck, so mortifying. Any damn window— just show up.
A guy's begging this hard; something's gotta pop.
"Quest window!!"
Window... more windows—what else was there?
Pretty sure that's all.
What else... window... window... right.
"Fucking window...!!!"
Excitement? Face felt burning hot.
No illusion. Hand to cheek—scalding.
Probably fever chills from pain, but no room to care.
Head overheated; thoughts wouldn't turn.
Sudden vertigo hit; I staggered and flopped onto the bed.
Lying there, head turned—liquor cabinet in view.
SmirXoff on top.
Haha. Nice and easy, no hassle.
Forced my sprawling body up, snatched the vodka.
Most bottles unopened; this one already cracked, 1/3 left—stood out.
Vodka's great for botched cocktails. I'd mix with juice after work plenty.
But no time for that today.
Clink. Pop the cap. Gulp.
Another gulp.
Two straight shots of 40%.
"Kuh..."
Hard stuff, but the body was acclimated—not too harsh.
Dedicated liquor cabinet? Original owner must've been a solid drinker.
Tingly throat felt good.
Why not another? Gulp.
Idiotically, three straight pulls from the bottle. Pure impulse.
Might regret pouring real booze into this drug-hungover suicide skull tomorrow—worse than any hangover? Dunno. Consequences? Nah.
Sip, swish saliva to rinse, mouth open—breathe.
Alcohol-sweet breath.
All day mental crush. Humiliation. Torment. Then booze.
Yeah. This was sex.
Mindless giggle—then realized my first real laugh today. Face crumpled.
-Gulp
Frustrated, chugged more. Flopped down like collapsing.
After that? Memory blanks. As sleep dragged me under, one thought: better to black out cold.