A Painful Awakening

Pain.

An unusual sensation of pain surged from my temples, coursing through my entire forehead.

It felt as if an incredibly fine, long needle had been inserted, then relentlessly stirred within.

Amidst the searing pain, an unsettling itch mingled, flowing down my neck, into my spine, and eventually spreading to my limbs.

Consequently, my entire body began to grow numb.

My body felt as though it were burdened by an immense weight, rendering movement impossible.

Breathing became an extraordinarily arduous task; each inhalation demanded every ounce of my strength.

Uttering a sound for help was out of the question.

Indeed, I needed help.

Though the reason remained unknown, this body was undeniably succumbing to death.

My blood gradually cooled, and my limbs grew rigid.

Only my consciousness, roused by the intense pain, remained acutely aware, rendering every second before death immeasurably long.

“Help… help…”

Driven by the final vestiges of my will to survive, an indiscernible whisper escaped my throat, yet I knew with chilling certainty that, living alone as I did, no one would respond.

The internet had warned that frequent late nights could lead to sudden death, a notion I had dismissed as mere jest, but now it was truly befalling me, a reclusive shut-in whose days and nights were utterly inverted.

Yet the internet had never mentioned that sudden death could be such an agonizing ordeal!

‘If there’s a next life, I must at least get proper sleep…’

My consciousness gradually dissipated, and my mind slowly lost the ability to form coherent thoughts.

Like an infant about to return to its mother’s womb, an inexplicable sense of peace enveloped me.

‘Perhaps this isn’t so bad; at least I won’t be tormented anymore.’

In that moment of profound self-abandonment, someone suddenly clasped my right hand.

“?”

Though my initial thought was how anyone could have entered my perennially locked room, the unfamiliar warmth emanating from my right hand momentarily eclipsed that question.

Like a drowning person grasping at a life-saving straw, a final surge of strength coursed through my body.

Clutching that unfamiliar hand, I abruptly sat upright, gasping for breath as if startled awake from a nightmare.

Before my eyes lay a room rather too spacious for a mere bedroom, replete with what appeared to be high-end furnishings. Even the bed beneath me seemed exorbitantly priced, feeling as if I were lying on a cloud.

‘Wait, where’s my small, messy, yet incredibly safe haven of a dog kennel?!’

“Lady Rachel, you’re finally awake!”

Before I could ponder further, a voice tinged with a slight sob reached my ears, prompting me to look in the direction of the sound with a hint of confusion.

A girl with beautiful brown twin pigtails, clad in a black and white maid’s outfit, came into view. Her ample bosom was unforgettable at first glance, and her youthful face seemed utterly mismatched with her exaggerated figure.

At that moment, she was clutching my hand, her eyes brimming with tears as she gazed at me, undoubtedly the one who had roused me earlier.

In a sense, this counted as a life-saving grace, and though propriety dictated I should offer thanks first, there was something else I needed to ask…

“Who… are you?”

I tilted my head, a bewildered expression on my face.

The maid froze for a moment, then burst into even heavier sobs.

“Please don’t scare Vera, Lady Rachel! Vera will definitely inspect dinner thoroughly next time; such an oversight will absolutely never happen again…”

The maid named Vera was utterly distraught, her words dissolving into incoherent sobs by the end, leaving me unable to discern what she was saying.

Moreover, the truth was, I didn’t recognize her at all, and as for ‘Rachel,’ I had never even heard the name before…

‘No, wait, it seems I do know her.’

The pain surged anew.

Accompanying it was a deluge of unfamiliar memory fragments, surging like a tide from the depths of my mind. My head throbbed uncomfortably, likely from the sudden influx of information.

I instinctively pressed a hand to my forehead, my brows furrowed in agony.

Witnessing my anguished expression, Vera visibly panicked.

“Lady Rachel, are you feeling unwell again? I’ll go fetch a physician, a priest, a father…”

‘Finding a physician and a priest makes sense, but what’s with a father? Is she preparing to hold a funeral directly if the treatment fails?’

I couldn’t help but inwardly quip, extending a hand to halt Vera, who was frantically circling in place like a lost puppy.

“Vera, calm down. I’m just a little disoriented.”

To be precise, ‘a little disoriented’ was an understatement; I was utterly bewildered.

Just moments ago, I had finally managed to sift through that jumbled, illogical mess of memory fragments and extract some useful information, thereby clarifying my current situation.

Simply put, I had transmigrated.

While this sounded utterly absurd, in reality, it was precisely that: utterly absurd.

After all, such a momentous event ought to have some sense of ceremony, shouldn’t it? How could it be so haphazard—one moment closing my eyes, the next opening them in an entirely different world?

‘At least arrange for a truck, right?’

I recalled the last person who transmigrated so haphazardly was some unlucky soul in a tracksuit; I sincerely hoped I wouldn’t be tormented to death and back like him.

As for my identity after this transmigration, I was Rachel Lockwood, the Baroness of the Lockwood territory within the Holy Loga Empire.

Though my title was merely that of a baroness, the lowest rank, I was at least a legitimate noble with my own domain.

Rachel’s parents had both passed away several years prior, which was why she had inherited the title at such a young age.

The nobles of this country apparently wielded immense power, to the extent that they were almost considered a different species from the commoners.

While most nobles, concerned with appearances, presented themselves as cultured—or at least appeared to—there were also those who completely indulged their whims, proving themselves truly despicable.

As for what kind of noble this Rachel Lockwood, whom I had transmigrated into, was…

I sighed, then looked at Vera, who had been holding her tongue beside me.

The little maid was now sitting formally on the floor, her hands clamped over her mouth, striving not to utter a single sound. Her large, tear-filled eyes blinked incessantly as she watched me, presenting a picture of utter helplessness.

That a simple ‘calm down’ could elicit such a reaction from Vera spoke volumes about the kind of person this Miss Rachel usually was.

Arrogant, dissolute, and malicious.

Her greatest pastime was devising various torments for the servants who attended her, then relishing their anguished and contorted expressions.

She was, in essence, a classic villain archetype, and a rather unrefined one at that.

It was for this very reason that Rachel, despite being a noble, now had only Vera as her maid.

However, precisely because of this, Rachel had focused most of her energy on tormenting Vera alone, which ironically reduced her overall harmfulness considerably.

‘…I truly don’t know how Vera managed to endure it.’

I swung my legs off the bed and patted Vera’s shoulder.

“Relax, I’m just feeling a little unwell.”

Startled by this sudden gentleness, Vera’s expression registered surprise, yet she maintained her posture, hesitant to make any sudden moves.

After all, Rachel had not been above feigning approachability only to then ‘fish for violations’ in the past, and Vera was not one to be easily deceived.

Seeing Vera’s stillness, I said nothing further, simply intending to get out of bed.

However, no sooner had I stood than the pain in my forehead, which had somewhat subsided, abruptly intensified. My legs buckled, and I swayed precariously, on the verge of collapsing, when Vera, quick as a flash, rushed over to steady me.

My vision instantly flared crimson, and a deafening ringing exploded in my ears. Vera, by my side, seemed to be speaking with an anxious expression, but I could no longer hear anything.

In a daze, I perceived countless black lines dancing before my eyes. They ceaselessly converged and reconfigured, slowly transforming into discernible words.

I struggled to focus my attention on those few words, yet upon doing so, my expression turned to one of utter shock, as if struck by lightning.

“What… what in the world is this…”

In my dazed gaze, against a blood-red background, cold black letters silently pulsed.

[Time until death]

[80:53:49]