“Fire!”
Someone’s voice rang out from far away.
Flames dyed everything a deep, burning red.
Thick smoke made it impossible to breathe. A harsh cough kept bursting out of her throat.
Am I going to die like this?
She couldn’t believe it.
Ever since she was young, there had been only one dream for her—a girl who loved bread more than anything: to open her own bakery.
She had spent her entire life running toward that dream. She earned her baking certification and worked in bakeries. It was rare for her hands and arms not to be covered in burns or bruises.
There were many times she wanted to quit because of stubborn bosses and awful customers. But every time, she endured it by thinking of her dream.
After years of exhausting work and saving every bit of money she could, she finally opened her own small bakery.
Today was its grand opening.
And yet…
Her bakery was now engulfed in flames.
To die in a fire before even serving a single customer?
Her vision grew dim.
In stories, people were said to see their life flash before their eyes right before death—but not in her case.
Instead, all she could see were countless breads she had never even gotten the chance to make, rolling around in her mind.
She reached out toward the tempting loaves.
But no matter how far she stretched, she couldn’t touch them.
A hoarse whisper slipped through her lips.
“…bread…”
Ding.
A clear, bell-like sound echoed in her ears, muffled by the smoke.
Then golden text appeared in the air.
<<Your call has reached another world.>>
<<A dragon who loves bread has answered you!>>
<<You will be summoned to another world!>>
And then, everything turned black.
How much time had passed?
“Gah!”
When she opened her eyes again, she was lying on a bed in an unfamiliar room.
The bedroom was so large it could pass for a living room. Lavishly decorated, medieval-style furniture filled the space.
Confused, she looked around and slowly sat up. Her frilly nightgown rustled softly.
She walked toward a vanity and looked into the mirror.
Inside it was a doll-like girl staring back at her.
She looked about fourteen or fifteen years old—an unfamiliar face.
Golden hair like flowing honey, blue eyes that sparkled like stars, and flawless skin like pale ivory.
But there was no time to admire it.
“W-who… is this?”
Panic rose as she touched the mirror.
Then—
Knock, knock.
The door opened, and a woman entered.
“Young lady, you’re awake?”
She frowned.
“Young… lady?”
At that moment, a familiar chime rang again.
Ding!
Golden letters floated in the air.
<<Warning! Inconsistent behavior detected.>>
The message vanished like smoke.
Was she hallucinating?
Her mind raced.
A maid dressed in what looked like medieval clothing had just called her “young lady.” She stared at the woman, then realized—
An unfamiliar room. A stranger’s face. A maid calling her “young lady.”
This was far too familiar a setup.
I’ve… been transported to another world.
And maybe I’ve possessed someone’s body.
The maid approached carefully, head lowered, and placed a basin of water in front of her.
“Water for washing is ready.”
She calmly washed her face.
She had read enough possession stories to know that panicking here would only make things worse.
The maid gently wiped her face and hands with a clean cloth, watching her reaction carefully.
When their eyes met, the maid flinched and quickly stepped back.
“I-I’m sorry!”
“….”
She looked like she had been about to get slapped.
Something felt off.
…Wait. Is this that kind of story?
In the fantasy novels she had read, possession stories usually fell into two types:
A poor but kind heroine…
Or a villainess with wealth and power but a terrible personality.
Judging by the maid’s reaction…
She was probably the second type.
A chill ran down her spine as she imagined the fate of a villainess who torments the protagonist.
Calm down.
Even if she had become a villainess, she could survive as long as she stayed rational.
She helped dress her in an elaborate gown, then someone else entered—a man in a vest and neat shirt.
A butler, clearly.
“Miss, the Marquis is calling for you.”
She nodded and stood.
The Marquis…
So she had possessed a noble’s daughter.
She followed the butler through the marble hallway, pretending to stay calm.
A large family portrait hung on the wall.
A man and woman holding a blonde girl in their arms.
As she studied it—
“Shuen.”
She turned.
A middle-aged man stood below the stairs. The same man from the portrait.
So he’s the Marquis… my father.
She carefully descended the stairs.
That’s when she noticed a boy standing behind him.
Ash-gray hair, thin frame, gaunt face. He looked so undernourished it was hard to guess his age.
Dark shadows hung under his eyes.
The boy looked up—and their eyes met.
A strange instinct stirred inside her.
The Marquis spoke.
“Shuen. Greet him.”
She frowned.
Shuen? That name sounds familiar…
Before she could think further, the Marquis gestured.
“He will be staying here from today. Treat him like your younger brother.”
“…What?”
“With your Aunt Maryanko’s request, I will act as his guardian.”
He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“His name is Izael. He is one year younger than you—fourteen.”
She froze completely.
Izael?
The Contracted of the Dragon, Izael?
The villain from the novel she had read before she died.
No way… I didn’t just get reincarnated into that story, did I?!
Her mind went blank.
The novel was titled This Life With the Dragon. It was popular for its satisfying plot and engaging story.
The premise was simple:
A man unjustly dies, is reincarnated, and forms a contract with a dragon, traveling the continent and gathering companions.
But the real reason it became famous wasn’t the protagonist—it was the villain.
Izael, the Contracted of the Crimson Dragon Akeretian.
A world-class villain with power rivaling the protagonist. He committed countless atrocities and constantly pushed the hero to his limits.
Naturally, readers hated him.
But then something changed.
A special side story revealed Izael’s past—and an illustration.
Izael was the son of the Magic Tower Master. A privileged “tower-born” child… until he was separated from his father at age nine.
From then on, he suffered endlessly.
When his tragic past was revealed, readers’ opinions completely flipped.
Especially after seeing his illustration.
Silver hair, violet eyes filled with sorrow, and a face so striking it was almost unreal.
Even she had read those posts.
The post that made her start the novel was titled “More main character than the main character.jpg”.
Izael became a fan favorite.
And then the author expanded his backstory further.
His downfall began after forming a contract with the Crimson Dragon.
Completely broken, Izael began his revenge.
The first target was his foster sister.
When he stayed with the Felicita Marquis family, that was his most miserable period.
The Marquis was indifferent but not cruel. The real problem was his daughter.
An angelic-looking girl with a rotten personality.
She bullied Izael relentlessly.
She made him eat insects, beat him until he was bruised, and even framed him for murder.
Eventually, she drove him out of the household.
If Izael was the villain, she was the one who created him.
Readers called her “Shubal.”
And when Izael finally took revenge…
They cheered as if he were the protagonist.
She had even commented back then:
“Good riddance, Shubal. Never see you again.”
And now…
Frozen in shock, she stared at the boy.
He hesitated, then spoke carefully.
“Shuen… sister.”
Nickname: Shubal.
Name: Shuen Felicita.
That was the body she had possessed.
…I’m Shubal?!
