“This can’t be right.”
Yeah. No matter how I thought about it, this definitely wasn’t right.
I rested my chin on my hand. Tap, tap. My short fingers drummed against the table.
Grandpa, sitting across from me, let out a quiet chuckle.
“And what exactly isn’t right?”
“Cakes have been arriving in piles for days now.”
I lifted the hand that had been tapping the table and drew a huge circle in the air.
Even that seemed adorable to him—his wrinkled eyes curved into crescents.
Pout.
I puffed out my cheeks and grumbled.
For nearly two weeks now, a cake had been delivered in front of my shop once every single day.
And not just any cake.
Handmade cakes from Mister Cream—my absolute favorite!
‘Who keeps doing something this lovely?!’
I’d even checked them with a silver spoon in case they were poisoned, but thankfully, they were perfectly normal cakes.
Which only raised another question.
Why?
Who?
Who in the world was sending me cakes?
Every single day!
‘It makes me want to hug them tight!’
Mister Cream’s cakes were so famous in the capital that he could practically charge whatever he wanted. Even arrogant nobles had to wait over a month just to get one.
And yet those cakes were arriving daily.
Every day felt like a dream.
‘Could it be some kind of Daddy Long Legs situation?’
But no one came to mind. Everyone I knew was too busy looking out for themselves.
“Haah…”
A tiny sigh slipped out.
“It’s your good fortune,” Grandpa said.
“But I haven’t done anything good.”
‘Let’s see.’
A month ago, I bought a piece of property. Right. That part was fine.
‘Details later.’
Anyway, after buying the house, the only things I’d done were…
‘Sell potions through the guild master, throw tantrums because I didn’t want to work, take walks with Grandpa, and eat cake like my life depended on it.’
Mm.
Yeah.
I was definitely built to be unemployed.
I pressed my lips together. That accidental self-reflection hit harder than expected.
Then Grandpa suddenly muttered,
“You did do something good.”
“Huh?”
Before I could even ask, When did I ever?, he continued.
“You took me in, didn’t you? An old man like me.”
“Oh, come on, that was a deal! And besides, you’re ridiculously strong, Grandpa!”
I wasn’t exaggerating.
For starters, his physique alone was far above average.
He was at least a head taller than most people, and the body that supposedly once wielded a sword still looked powerful. If not for his white hair, he could’ve passed for middle-aged.
‘And he’s skilled, too.’
After all, he was the one protecting our home.
The only ray of light in this harsh place called Proud.
Sure, he was old, but with skills like his, he could easily work as a mercenary instead.
He’d earn way more than what I paid him.
“Grandpa, have you really never considered becoming a mercenary? I feel like people would line up to recruit you.”
“Tch. At my age, I have no desire to mingle with a bunch of insignificant brats.”
He rejected the idea instantly, as though it wasn’t even worth considering. There was even a hint of irritation in his wrinkled eyes.
“Hm.”
Well, if that’s how he felt, there wasn’t much I could do.
‘Still, what a waste.’
Wasn’t there usually something like a Mercenary King in stories like this? If Grandpa became a mercenary, he could probably become famous.
“What bizarre nonsense are you imagining now?”
“B-bizarre nonsense?!”
Caught red-handed, I shrank back.
Grandpa clicked his tongue and pushed the plate in front of him toward me. Mister Cream’s cake slid closer.
“You’re not eating it?”
“I’m full, brat.”
Whether he truly was full or not, the man who could normally devour five plates without blinking turned away.
Taking the opportunity, I immediately dragged the plate toward myself.
‘Yes!’
The strawberry perched on the fork looked especially pretty.
I popped it into my mouth and melted into a grin.
Grandpa glanced at me sideways and shook his head.
“Is it good?”
“Yes!”
“Good. Eat as much as you want.”
Obviously!
I shouted internally while nodding eagerly.
It seemed getting younger had changed my taste buds, too. Back in my previous life, I avoided sweets like the plague.
‘But it tastes amazing!’
That’s all that mattered, right?
‘Life is all about good food.’
This second chance at life…
I planned to spend it walking the path of cake forever.
Relaxing in this tiny shop with Grandpa. Saving money little by little by selling potions. And once I became an adult—
‘I’m getting out of this underworld life for good!’
How perfect would that be?
Holding my fork high with a solemn expression, I stabbed into the cake. The soft sponge wrapped around the tines.
I really hoped life could continue like this forever…
BANG!
“Your Grace!”
…I truly did.
“Lord Kazliden! Were you here all along?!”
“…”
The fork slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor.
At the same time—
BANG!
The front door burst open.
Thud thud thud!
Heavy footsteps echoed everywhere.
And then, emerging from between a crowd of burly knights—
A blue-haired boy.
“Ha.”
The boy frowned deeply.
“This place is an absolute mess.”
“…”
One second.
Two seconds.
…Three.
Finally snapping out of it, I muttered blankly,
“What?”
Why did this…
“…feel completely doomed?”
Cause of death: traffic accident.
That was how I died in my previous life.
Too cliché?
I thought so too, but what could I do? I really did get hit by a truck.
I rolled across a crosswalk, listened to the blaring sirens, and closed my eyes.
And when I opened them again—
“Amelia Frang!”
—I had become Amelia Frang, a character from the dark R-rated novel At the Eastern Edge, a story I’d dropped halfway through.
The problem was Amelia’s role in the story.
Usually when people transmigrate, they become some random extra, right?
Not me.
Amelia was the hidden villain’s first love.
A doomed character with a confirmed death ending.
A terminally ill girl fated to die at twenty.
‘Damn it.’
In the original story, Amelia receives a confession from the hidden villain on the very day she turns twenty—
And is immediately assassinated.
No one ever found out who killed her.
‘Because I quit reading halfway through.’
I should’ve just finished it.
‘No. I should’ve read some healing slice-of-life story instead.’
Who knew reading this miserable nightmare of a novel would literally get me killed?
‘Healing. Hopeful. Healing. Hopeful.’
Instead, I got despair and suffering.
I swallowed back tears.
It had already been six months since I transmigrated here.
But the moment I arrived, the family fell into ruin, and a carriage accident killed the rest of them. With no proper relatives left, I ended up being raised by family acquaintances.
Originally, I’d intended to quietly stay with them until adulthood.
But—
‘They tried to sell me off.’
To a man at least twenty years older than me.
‘Completely insane.’
Even now, remembering it sent chills down my spine. I’d nearly ended up in serious trouble.
‘Good thing I ran away.’
One wrong move, and my new life would’ve ended before it even began.
Though thanks to that, I managed to cut ties early and escape.
“Hoo…”
Standing in front of an old shop, I shifted my weight awkwardly. Beside me sat a luggage bag nearly larger than I was.
I swallowed dryly.
‘Right. Humans can survive anything.’
Naturally, I had absolutely no intention of dying obediently like in the original story.
‘Who wants to die, anyway?’
In my previous life, I’d been worked to the bone. As an office worker, there wasn’t a single day I slept properly.
‘I still have plenty of life ahead of me. People aren’t meant to die so easily.’
Sure, I was now a fallen noble lady, but life was long. I could start over from here.
Being only fifteen was a bit concerning, but whatever. As long as I could prove my noble status, I could legally rent or purchase property regardless of age.
Besides, I wasn’t completely broke.
‘Good thing I secretly hid some money.’
Before the count’s family collapsed, I’d secretly hidden away part of the estate’s wealth.
A truly divine decision.
On top of that, Amelia was a mage in the original story. The details were vague, but she was supposedly fairly talented.
That should at least be enough to protect myself, right?
‘As long as I stay away from the temple.’
Originally, after becoming a fallen noble, Amelia struggled financially and eventually went to the temple.
But instead of following that route, I did something else.
To avoid poverty, I used my hidden funds to buy a house.
‘The original story hasn’t even started yet.’
And this time, I wouldn’t go near the temple. Which meant there were countless ways for me to survive.
After all, according to the original plot, that was where Amelia first met the hidden villain.
‘Right. The conditions for this place were actually great.’
Close to downtown? Check.
Two stories? Nice and practical.
And all for only fifty gold!
‘Cheap!’
Why was it so cheap?
‘Because I bought it through an auction, damn it.’
That was my fatal mistake.
I should’ve had experience with real estate.
In my past life, I’d been too busy repaying my parents’ loans to even dream of buying property. I only vaguely understood auctions through random videos online.
Honestly, I knew absolutely nothing.
I’d even hired the carriage driver to bid on my behalf because I was worried people would scam a young girl!
“My lady!”
I looked back and forth between the contract and the signboard.
Crunch.
My teeth ground together.
Proud Angelo 666-666
“Are you actually kidding me?!”
The address of the house I thought I bought was Prous.
But the address in front of me said Proud.
I checked the contract again just in case, but words didn’t magically change themselves.
‘Damn it.’
I’d mistaken Proud for Prous.
Not someone else.
Me.
“Ugh, this is driving me insane.”
Pain throbbed at the back of my neck.
In the original story, there was only one place called Proud.
“Haah…”
The deed crumpled in my hand.
As I kicked the ground uselessly, a nearby man cautiously approached.
“I-is something wrong?”
“Waaah!”
Anywhere else might’ve been fine, but not here.
In Proud, you couldn’t trust people.
You definitely couldn’t approach them first, either.
One mistake and you could get killed.
But…
But this was so unbelievably frustrating!
“Waaah, I got scammed!”
Today, I’d fallen victim to a real estate scam.
More specifically, an auction scam.
And there was one more problem.
“AAAAAH!”
Proud Street.
This place was the underworld.
Goddammit.