Chapter 1: Kwon Se-ah, the Youngest Daughter of a Chaebol Family

I used to think I lived a pretty ordinary life.

After graduating from university, I followed my parents’ wishes and prepared for the civil service exam.

Eventually, I became a level 9 government employee.

But the life of a level 9 civil servant was worse than I’d imagined—utterly miserable.

Still, even someone as ordinary as me knows all about the usual clichés of possession.

You know—getting hit by a truck, leaving a nasty comment online, downloading a shady DLC and creating a cursed character, or getting stabbed in the stomach right after being congratulated for a sold-out dome concert…

I didn’t do anything that weird.

“Doctor! The patient’s awake! Doctor!!!”

“Kwon Se-ah! Ms. Kwon Se-ah! Can you hear us? If you can, please blink!”

My last memories were nothing out of the ordinary.

The grandmother yelling at me because this year’s kimchi didn’t taste right and insisting I take it back.

The grandfather demanding to know why he wasn’t getting any benefits.

The woman who threatened to sue for slipping on uncleared snow in front of her house and kept calling for a month.

The motel owner who screamed that she’d rather die than pay her taxes and started undressing.

And the civil complaint officer who disappeared after being attacked by an irate citizen wielding a knife…

I fell asleep worrying about how I’d handle the mountain of complaints waiting for me tomorrow.

“My goodness! Se-ah! You’re awake?! Didn’t Mom say today was going to be a good day?”

“Ugh, Mom! Stop freaking out and go call Dad already!!”

As I listened to the clamor coming from all directions, I could no longer deny it.

“Kwon Se-ah.”

A name I had never heard in my life.

And now, I had woken up in the body of a young woman lying in a luxurious private hospital room, surrounded by golden wallpaper.

I had been possessed by a girl I couldn’t even guess the identity of.

***

Honestly? I got lucky.

I didn’t end up in some fantasy world with no toilet paper or in a post-apocalyptic gate overrun by monsters.

Instead, I possessed someone in a world eerily similar to the one I came from.

Same popular social media apps, same search engines—even the games on the smartphone in my hand were ones I had actually played.

“Kwon Se-ah… Hansung Group… 13-car pileup…”

Thanks to that, it didn’t take me long to figure out who this “Kwon Se-ah” was or what was going on.

To sum it up in one sentence:

The youngest daughter of the chairman of Hansung Group—South Korea’s number one conglomerate.

Her parents, the couple’s third daughter, had died in a car accident.

She herself had been in a coma for a month.

“So that’s why they brought me here…”

I studied my reflection in the large mirror above the sink.

Kwon Se-ah was beautiful—so much so that it wouldn’t be strange if she took up modeling as a hobby.

Her body left no room for criticism. It was the kind people described as “flawless.”

“Anyway… This is the family-only memorial owned by the foundation. I came here to visit Mom and Dad, whose funeral was held a month ago.”

At first, I had no idea what was going on.

As soon as they confirmed I was physically okay, they changed me into formal clothes—half against my will—and loaded me into a sleek, stretch limousine.

Honestly, I didn’t even realize we were going to a columbarium until I got here.

It wasn’t until I saw a few solemn adults in suits that I began to piece things together.

Saying I needed to use the bathroom was probably the best move I made.

It gave me a moment to escape the heavy mood and catch my breath.

Thanks to that, I avoided blurting out something dumb like, “Who are you people?”

Knock knock knock!

“Se-ah! It’s me. Are you gonna be long? Grandpa’s here too.”

Ugh… I guess I can’t hide in the bathroom forever.

Alright.

Just memorize the essentials for now.

I used to handle civil complaints—this isn’t that different, right?

First off, “Grandpa” must be Chairman Kwon Ki-gap.

The person calling me right now is probably a cousin…

Creak—

“Sorry for the wait.”

“No need to apologize. You just woke up in the hospital and came straight here. Are you alright?”

Kwon Si-young, Se-ah’s cousin, had her hair neatly braided and wore flashy earrings that glittered under the light.

From her shoes to the coat draped over her shoulders, everything about her screamed someone who just couldn’t resist dressing to impress.

Probably extroverted too.

As soon as she saw me come out of the bathroom, she waved for me to follow and took the lead.

“…VIP movement confirmed.”

A quiet voice spoke from behind. It was one of the bodyguards in sunglasses.

From the moment I stepped into that limousine, the reality hit me:

I really have become the youngest daughter of a chaebol family.

“Is something wrong?”

“…No, nothing.”

God, this is so overwhelming.

The moment our eyes met, he bowed at the waist and greeted me respectfully?

No, wait… I guess that’s normal if I’m the precious youngest daughter of the number-one conglomerate in the country?

Anyway, escape didn’t look like an option here, so I quickly followed behind Kwon Si-yeong.

The family-only columbarium was strangely both noisy and silent.

That sounds ridiculous, I know—but that’s really how it felt.

Everyone was clearly in a rush, likely because I had shown up, but no one’s footsteps or movements made any real sound.

“There you are! Finally! Se-ah, come over here!”

Standing in front of the columbarium, after a short walk, were people I’d seen countless times in photos on my phone.

Kwon Se-ah’s grandfather, her uncle, and her aunt.

“…I’m sorry.”

I quickly bowed my head toward my aunt.

Then turned and gave a deep bow to her grandfather.

When in doubt, apologize first—that was a survival skill I’d picked up during my years in civil service.

“I’m sorry, Grandpa.”

“There, there… Our Se-ah, you’ve been through so much. Come here, dear.”

Kwon Ki-gap.

That was the name of Kwon Se-ah’s grandfather, and he looked far too healthy and alert for his age.

With his wrinkled hand, he gently took mine and led me forward.

“Se-ah… You must be so confused, waking up to all this.”

I stayed silent and kept my mouth shut.

“But what’s done is done. As their child, the least you can do is pay your respects.”

In front of me were two photographs—two strangers whose faces held not even a flicker of familiarity.

Mom, Kwon Chu-hee. Dad, Park Cheol-ho.

The names meant nothing to me, and even the large family portrait hanging behind them did little to stir any sense of connection.

“Ahh…”

But I had common sense.

I might not be able to perfectly act like a young woman in her twenties, but I could at least avoid acting like a complete idiot.

It’s like when you’re at a disaster site—you don’t just stand around tapping on your smartphone.

“Sniff… ngh…”

I let out a fake sniffle and rubbed my eyes hard with my right hand.

“Yes… Se-ah, yes… As your father, I’m in agony too. How much more painful it must be for you to lose your parents.”

Grandpa gently patted my back as he wiped at his reddening eyes.

There was no need for me to start saying things like “Mom… Dad…”

All I had to do was silently cry and look like I was too overwhelmed to speak.

“Tsk… All because some drunk idiot got behind the wheel. What a goddamn mess.”

“Seriously, what are the odds? Getting caught up in a major pileup like that…”

So… were Uncle and Aunt really that close?

“It’s been ages since I’ve seen Se-ah cry like this…”

“Are you sure you’re okay? You weren’t sobbing in the bathroom earlier?”

“No, she wasn’t crying when she came out. But… she did seem like she was forcing herself to hold it together.”

And what about her relationship with her cousins?

…Honestly, I had no way of knowing.

No matter how much the internet loves chewing up celebrity gossip, stuff like this—personal, day-to-day dynamics—usually doesn’t make it into the headlines.

***

Thanks to Kwon Se-ah waking up from a month-long coma, Hansung Group suddenly found themselves gathering for a family meal with the Chairman himself.

…Or at least, that’s what it looked like from my perspective.

It wasn’t some tense showdown like in those makjang dramas where people start screaming across the table.

No one was shaking in fear, paralyzed by the Chairman’s fury.

“Are you feeling better now, Se-ah?”

As dessert was served after the long, long meal, Aunt spoke to me with an overly warm tone.

“Um… Mom, what exactly are you trying to talk about now? She literally just woke up today.”

“Even so, we still have to handle what needs handling. If we don’t talk while your grandfather’s here, then when are we going to talk?”

…Oh.

Wait.

Is this that thing?

The thing in all the makjang dramas and chaebol stories?

Is this the start of the classic cutthroat inheritance war?

But wait—I don’t know anything!

I know jack about economics, I’ve never touched an accounting book, and the only thing I ever did with Bitcoin was lose money!

“Anyway, Se-ah. Since all the adults are here, let’s have a little chat, okay?”

“Yes… it might be a bit overwhelming, but it’s best to talk while your grandfather’s present.”

While they were talking, the grandfather in question clicked his tongue and looked like he’d bitten into something sour.

“Your mother’s business…”

What followed was a storm of complex, convoluted chatter from Aunt and Uncle.

Financial statements, stock holdings, documents I needed to sign, outside management appointments…

I couldn’t understand a single word. It all washed over me like a foreign language.

“Se-ah? Are you listening? Se-ah?”

“Ah… uh…”

What the hell kind of story did I get dragged into?

Is this really a chaebol story?

Then what’s my role?

Am I just the main character whose tragic backstory makes her easy to root for?

Or the unlucky scapegoat who gets eliminated by a desperate bodyguard?

“I… I’m sorry, I… I don’t understand.”

Before I realized it, tears were streaming down my face.

I really didn’t understand.

Even the civil service exam had been an uphill battle for me.

If I was going to become the youngest daughter of a conglomerate, wasn’t I supposed to be living the good life by now?

“This… sniff… My parents are… gone… sniff… I still can’t believe it…”

This was unfair.

So damn unfair.

If I’d known it would be like this, I would’ve chosen to go to a fantasy world instead…!

If I’d ended up there, I could’ve been a princess! Princesses don’t deal with this crap!

“Sniff… hic…”

“Oh, honey… Why are you crying like that? Did you even understand what I was saying? I wasn’t scolding you…”

“Mom! Wouldn’t you cry?! She wakes up from a coma and finds out her parents are dead! And we’re talking about money?!”

If I were watching this on TV, I probably would’ve laughed—but living it? Not so much.

“I… I-I don’t really know what’s going on. I’ll just do whatever Aunt and Uncle say. Just… please let me live. I won’t overstep.”

“Oh, Se-ah…”

“I’m just so exhausted. I just want to go home.”

I just wanted to lie down. To rest.

To live the dream of being a rich, unemployed bum.

…That had been my dream, even before becoming a civil servant.

Wouldn’t a chaebol daughter’s bank account earn more interest in a month than my entire salary?

“Alright. Take some time to rest.”

“Grandpa…?”

“There’s a time to work, and a time when a person simply can’t work…”

With that one unexpected line from Grandpa, it felt like someone had dropped a lifeline from heaven.

Wait, am I really allowed to rest now?

Am I about to enjoy a luxurious, stress-free vacation as the youngest daughter of a conglomerate?

Like, could I have omakase for lunch every day?

“Yes, rest for now, Se-ah. While you were asleep, your aunt and uncle wrapped up the urgent matters.”

Only then did it truly sink in.

My glorious, freeloading chaebol life was about to begin!