My shock must have been written all over my face. The girl standing by my bed looked nervous, while I was panicking inside. The last sentence I spoke had been in English, and of course she didn't understand a word.
I tried to convince myself this was some kind of prank. Definitely my brother's doing—he was the only one crazy enough to pull something like this. The thought calmed me for a moment, and I took a deep breath.
Still, when I turned my full attention back to the girl, she looked… Chinese.
"No, no, no," I muttered quickly. "I'm not being racist. But she really does look like that."
I decided to try speaking English again. After all, I had watched plenty of Chinese dramas—with subtitles, of course—but I didn't actually know a single Chinese word. So, narrowing my eyes, I asked slowly:
"Where is my brother?"
The girl only looked more confused. When I stepped toward her, she backed away in alarm, stumbling over her words. I froze in place.
She was wearing long, flowing robes—ancient clothes. My mind scrambled for the right term.
"Hanbok…" I whispered to myself. Then shook my head. "Wait—that's Korean, isn't it? So what on earth is this?"
"Whatever," I muttered under my breath.
The girl glanced at me with wide eyes, then suddenly shouted something in her language before running out of the room.
"What the hell…" I mumbled, bewildered by her reaction. But again, I told myself, *This has to be my brother's prank. He must've gone all out this time.*
I looked around the room, and my words died in my throat. I was speechless. It was exactly like a set from one of those historical dramas—furniture, decorations, everything.
Impressed and unsettled, I began inspecting every corner, half-expecting my brother to jump out at any second.
Then my eyes fell on a mirror in the corner. It wasn't like the one back home, but still, I could see my reflection.
And when I did—I screamed.
Because the person staring back at me wasn't me. Not anymore. At least… not physically.