"How dare you, a mere commoner, stand next to His Highness?"
The girl shouting at me looked like she was in her twenties. Picture-perfect, dressed like a porcelain doll ripped from a Victorian painting. Her voice was sweet—too sweet for the poison dripping from her words. And her pale, dainty finger was trembling with rage right in front of my face.
"Uh…?" was all I could mumble, my voice barely more than a shaky whisper, like a leaf falling in the middle of a storm.
What… What am I doing here? This isn't my room…
I looked around. A long hallway stretched out to both sides, seemingly endless. The walls were lined with clockwork gears, like something out of an old steampunk movie. Honestly, they looked dangerous, like they were screaming "accident waiting to happen!"
Stick your hand in there and it's game over.
I glanced behind me and saw reddish lockers with glowing nameplates. Then I noticed something else—there were so many people. Everyone was dressed like they were about to star in some period drama. Elegant suits, embroidered dresses, elaborate accessories… Even the light filtering in through the tall windows felt fake, like someone had slapped a nostalgic, golden filter over the world.
And her—the girl standing in front of me—she stood out the most. She wore a blood-red lace gown, dramatic and heavy, like dried roses dripping with old wounds. The sleeves flared out like waterfalls, swaying with every little movement as if they were alive.
Those outfits… Haven't I seen them before?
Yes. Yes, of course… they're exactly like the ones from that otome game I played last week. I don't remember the name, but—this is it!
"What are you waiting for?! Answer! Will you finally give up on His Majesty?"
"…Sorry, what?"
"Kathryn von Adelheid, if you're expecting someone to come to your aid, let me tell you it's useless. Who would help someone like you?"
Silence fell. But not the awkward kind. No, it echoed deep in my chest.
Then I got it.
Ah. This is just like one of those "reincarnated into a game" stories, huh?
Yeah… that's the vibe. And if this girl just called me "Kathryn"—which, by the way, is the longest, most pretentious name I've ever heard and I am not saying the full thing—then… I'm the protagonist?
I tuned out her angry rants and looked down at myself. I needed to confirm something. And I did.
…Whoa. Damn, these boobs.
Yep, I thought as I grabbed my very well-developed assets, then glanced at my name: Kathryn von Adelheid. That sealed the deal. You can't read things in dreams, and touch always feels weird in them. So this was real.
How the hell did I end up here?
I used to be seventeen. Average looks. But hey, I had a little something going for me—I'll check later to see if it's still there.
"...What the hell do you think you're doing, you uncultured commoner?!"
I ignored the blonde.
One more look. Yep. Not even in my worst dreams would I wear this dusty red-gray coat with that overly fancy black dress. I usually go for something more free—like a skirt above the knees. But here I am. Dressed up. Transformed. Protagonist?
While I was lost in thought, something whizzed past me. A sudden chill brushed my ear, lifting a few strands of my now pastel-pink hair. A shiver ran down my spine.
"W-What the hell?!" I gasped, dropping to my knees on the soft folds of the dress. My heart pounded so hard it actually hurt.
I turned sharply. Behind me, one of the lockers had a massive dent… with a hole punched right through it.
I remembered this scene.
It's when the villainess attacks the protagonist with her magic. "Piercing Blood," or something like that.
So that means… she is—
My eyes dropped to her hand. The same finger that had been pointed at me was now dripping tiny drops of blood from the tip of her black nail.
Carlotta von Wiebke.
That means… any second now, one of the love interests should show up. The crown prince, Mikha—uh, I don't remember his full name!
No. Nope. Hell no!
I refuse to play this stupid game. I might not remember much about it, but if there's one thing I do recall, it's that the love interests were insanely boring! Not exaggerating—I fell asleep halfway through their routes and only woke up to click choices before passing out again.
And let's not forget the actual crazies surrounding them. Case in point: Carlotta just tried to kill me. I could've been isekai'd into another otome game if that thing hit me!
"Your idiotic face is a disgrace to Libelling Academy. I dema—"
"Congrats! I give up. I won't go near the prince again. He's all yours. Enjoy."
In the bravest move of my life… I surrendered.
Carlotta's face froze like a marble sculpture of pure disbelief. Actually, everyone in the hallway was staring at me like I'd just broken some sacred, unspoken rule of the universe.
Nobody—absolutely nobody—saw that coming.
I turned around slowly, trying to look graceful… or at least like I wasn't dying inside. I just wanted to leave. Melt into the shadows. Become someone's awkward memory.
That was the plan, anyway—until I felt it.
A tug. A weird, cold sensation along my back. Like the world had decided it wasn't going to let me go that easily.
Carlotta was grabbing one of the totally unnecessary straps on this stupid coat.
"What do you mean by that?!" she shouted, glaring at me like I'd just punted a puppy. "You've been clinging to him like a leech all week and now you're just… giving up?"
I sighed. Not the graceful, romantic kind of sigh girls give in novels.
Mine sounded more like cracking open a warm soda that's been sitting in the sun.
"Shouldn't you be happy? Wasn't he your fiancé?" I said while gently pulling her hand off me like I was trying to get gum off my shoe without using my fingers.
Or at least… I think that's how it went. I just blurted out the first thing that popped into my head from one of the game's routes. If I'm not mistaken—and I probably am—this whole thing was just a giant misunderstanding between the villainess and the protagonist. One of those jealousy-fueled plots that ironically push the prince closer to the heroine.
Cliché.
Annoying.
Totally avoidable.
And yet… here we are.
The bigger problem? I hated the prince's route. From the bottom of my new, fluffy pink heart, I wanted to smash a vase over his head. Or maybe two.
To be fair, the other two "heroes" weren't any better. A trio of abs and disappointment.
Basically, this whole otome game made me feel like I'd been punched in the *****.
…Huh?
Wait… Did I just get censored for saying *****?
Yep.
Weird… let's try: ****, ******, *****…
Oh right. It was a Japanese game.
To this day, I still don't get why they censor words and pixelate certain scenes if the game is NSFW.
Whatever. I told myself. I ended up here with zero clue how, so getting censored is probably the least strange thing I'll deal with.
Anyway, this game had everything I hated as a reader and visual novel player. Boring protagonists who never shut up about "you're mine" and "that's my Kathryn," and all sorts of crap that made it obvious they only cared about themselves.
So, why did I play it?
Easy. I'm a hopeless fangirl and a hardcore otaku for the illustrator, Yoshikage. That's it. I just wanted to unlock all the CGs, not hook up with any of those losers.
Back to the overly-stylized, painful reality…
"So yeah. Congrats, you win," I said, taking a careful step back. "He's all yours. But just between us… he's really not worth it. Bye-bye."
And I meant it. From the bottom of my ironic, pragmatic heart.
Even though the game never really developed the villainesses well, I can say this: none of them deserved to end up with those sorry excuses for romantic leads.
In fact, if I think about it, I kind of feel bad for them. I wouldn't mind making sure they don't end up with those guys. Something like "I'll save the villainesses"… except I won't.
Why? Easy. I don't remember jack about the plot. Or, more accurately, I remember bits and pieces, because I was half-asleep the entire time.
So no, I don't have the usual reincarnated-girl advantage. I'm not some expert who can predict every twist and turn. I barely know what story I'm in… and that's only thanks to the borrowed boobs and the cotton candy wig I now have for hair.
Which is why, with all the solemnity I could muster, I made the only logical decision:
I'm going to live a peaceful life. Just like the one I had before I ended up here.
Far away from the protagonists.
Far away from their drama.
Far away from the clingy, unhinged villainesses.
Because if there's one thing I do remember…
It's that all the bad endings—and there were a lot, too many—ended with Kathryn, a.k.a. me… dying.
In horrible ways.
Creative ways.
Like the game was having fun killing me.
Well, not me me. I mean the protagonist. But now "she" is me, so yeah. Apparently, murdering me is peak entertainment.
So, with my escape plan in motion and my resolve set, I turned around and left Carlotta behind.
Staying any longer might've triggered the hero prince's entrance… whatever his name is!
I started walking and caught a glimpse of Carlotta's beautiful face frozen in an expression I can only describe as:
"What the fuck?"
Even like that, she was still a work of art.
Too bad she was obsessed with that guy.