As he walked, his long legs swung lazily, his pants tightly fitted, and a black piercing on his earlobe caught the eye.

    One corner of his mouth curled up in mockery.

    A classic cliché.

    A pretty big deal, huh.

    “You’re Haemalgeum? Pfft. What is this, some gigolo-looking guy? Guys—!”

    The potato guy scanned the lean and wiry Haemalgeum from head to toe and raised his hand.

    And yet, not a single person stepped in to stop it.

    No police, no teachers.

    Nothing.

    I watched with a distant gaze and let out a deep sigh from my gut.

    “That bastard’s a Hunter! Is he seriously using skills in a brawl?!”

    “Fight fair! No skills!”

    The student who just used a skill on a civilian, come with us.”

    I took one wrong turn at a fork in the road—and ended up possessed inside an internet novel.

    It wasn’t because I got hit by a truck, or died in some ridiculous accident, or even just woke up to find myself like this.

    No, I simply made one poor decision at a crossroads and found myself inside a novel.

    And the only person who could introduce themselves with just that name—was me.

    Looks.

    Fame.

    Popularity.

    Naturally, money followed.

    I amassed an enormous fortune at a young age.

    I looked around weakly.

    Now, out of nowhere, I had parents and was expected to live in a cozy little home with them?

    Was that even possible?

    And I was originally an orphan, too!

    And worst of all, they had a god-awful relationship.

    “If they were at least harmonious, I wouldn’t complain so much.”

    Whenever they needed to communicate during one of their cold wars, they used their daughter (me) as a go-between.

    Because of that, I grew up walking on eggshells—forming a weirdly twisted personality.

    But then, by chance, he saw her beating the crap out of a bunch of thugs in a back alley.

    Intrigued by this stark contrast from her usual image, he found himself tangled with her in increasingly coincidental ways… and slowly began to fall for her.

    Manipulation, hired beatings, kidnapping, confinement, threats, car accidents, incurable diseases, amnesia—you name it.

    And me?

    In that entire story, I wasn’t even one of the main trials.

    A stalker girl who obsessively clung to the male lead, burned with jealousy toward the female lead, and ended up ruining herself.

    That was the role of the character I had been possessed into.

    So close that he’d overlook most of my actions or words?

    I had zero connection to the male lead.

    Something so unique it left a lasting impression?

    I got a nosebleed and everything.

    This body’s original owner thought the male lead left it there and was moved to tears.

    Out of pure duty and responsibility. Not even a hint of romantic intent.

    No dreams, no hope, no chance—just a stalker.

    The kind that shadowed the male lead’s every move, confessed multiple times despite being thoroughly rejected, got marked by the school bullies who liked the male lead, got beat up mercilessly, and disappeared.

    “My height… my face…”

    Even when I didn’t eat properly, I had still managed to grow to 170cm!

    But now—me, like this?

    Over 10 centimeters shorter than I used to be.

    Naturally, the arms and legs felt stubbier, too.

    It didn’t resemble my old one in the slightest.

    Eyes matching the same warm color.

    A slightly droopy eye shape that gave off a weak and submissive impression.

    “Were you saying that for me to hear?”

    As soon as I heard my parents coming in, I rushed out of my room, trying to read the tense atmosphere between Mom and Dad with a forced smile.

    “Dana, don’t even think about going outside today. That stupid dungeon break or whatever has things in chaos.”

    That’s why I have to keep pretending to be this body’s original personality.

    Why I’m stuck in this house I don’t even like.

    Why I absolutely, under no circumstances, can get found out.


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