Chapter 1: How To Catch A Wolf With A Wooden Stick

I’m a ghost!

Yup! That means I’m dead.

Man, I never imagined that I would die from overwork of all things. But apparently, humans can die from loving their job too much.

Sigh… Where did it all go wrong? Was it when I landed that coveted spot in the strategic planning department? Or was it because I burned myself out with endless overtime because I was just that happy?

Whatever the reason, here I am. Dead.

Ugh.

As I calmly reflected on my past, resentment welled up. I couldn’t hold back my true feelings any longer.

Give it back!

My life!

My blissful existence of sucking up to the chaebols...!

I mean, can’t a person find happiness kissing up to the royal family?

If I die going geck-! while enthusiastically licking the master’s boots, what kind of life is that?

Was it so wrong to spend my days laundering the chairman’s slush funds? To agonize over whether I could skim a little off the top?

Grr.

Fine, maybe my life was a bit… misguided. 

But don’t get me wrong! I took pride in giving it my all. 

If the world were fair, shouldn’t it pay the price? Shouldn’t it pay for this untimely death?

Ahem.

You know, like those stories where you transmigrate into another world, or gain cheat abilities. Heck, even regressing wouldn’t be so bad.

Tsk.

Maybe I could use those regression cheats to become a chaebol myself this time? Honestly, I didn’t even like the chairman. If you’re going to be the boss, act like it. Stop hoarding all the slush funds, and while we’re at it, don’t be so ugly.

With my heart pounding, I looked around. But what I saw wasn’t what I had in mind.

A plaza, carriages, Western-style buildings.

The medieval era? Renaissance? Just before the modern era?

Oh… there were flying ships in the sky.

Wow, so a fantasy, huh?

I had lived my life in my ordinary modern world, but now, suddenly, I was in some fantasy world.

Isn’t this just so funny? I collapsed while working, and when I woke up, I was a ghost in some strange, fantasy land.

It honestly feels like I skipped a few steps here. Where’s the angel explaining my death? Where’s the god who’s supposed to grant me cheat abilities?

S-surely it’s not just… nothing? Right? Right?

In my current state of mind, I feel like I could lick two pairs of chaebol boots without complaint. Heck, I’m confident I’d even do it well.

But contrary to my wishes, nothing changed as the sun set and rose again.

With no other choice, I floated around in my pitch-black and round ghost body, searching for angels, grim reapers, or anything of the sort.

That’s when I noticed something strange.

Gently, I touched a leaf in a flowerpot with my ghost body.

But as soon as I touched it, the leaf also went Geck! and withered, just like someone who died from overwork. As if it was infected, the stem rotted, and the flower fell in an instant.

The once-beautiful plant was now ruined.

This time, I decided to fly toward a cat sitting on a nearby roof. No need to worry about it dying, right? But as soon as I got close, it hissed in terror and fled.

Ah.

Rejected by plants and animals alike.

Is this what it feels like to be an outsider, facing discrimination from the villagers after moving to a rural area? My fragile heart was shattered.

I guess I really was an outsider—an intruder from another world.

Thankfully, people didn’t react like the animals. They seemed unaware of my presence. They were completely defenseless, but I didn’t try to touch them. I’m a gentle soul, after all.

And just like that time passed. The sun rose and set, again and again. Still no sign of angels or grim reapers. 

Are the afterlife officials slacking off?

I even entered a grand temple nearby to file a complaint. But I had to flee after causing a disaster where all the priests collapsed, frothing at the mouth.

This is discrimination against outsiders...! I’ll sue you all!

Sigh… When nothing works, you’re left with no other choice. Sorry, afterlife officials, but I’ll be making a surprise visit to the scene.

If ghosts exist, there’s a good chance afterlife officials show up at births, right? Let’s go find a place where a baby might be born.

Hmm, I knew of one happy family. They had to be of high nobility—I remember seeing an endless procession of carriages at their wedding as laughter filled the large crowded garden.

In this perfect environment, the couple was disgustingly lovey-dovey. They even fed each other cookies during tea time. Ugh, so sweet. 

Unless something unexpected happens, their happiness is set for life. 

Hmm… Enough time should’ve passed—-shouldn’t she be pregnant by now? For nobles, producing an heir is practically a duty.

I peeked through the glass window. A doctor was having tea with the couple.

When the doctor said something, the wife rubbed her belly with a bright expression. The husband smiled and gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

A pregnancy conversation?

Well, that’s something to celebrate.

Thanks to that, I’ve saved myself some time.

Hehe! I should bless this joyous occassion.

I solemnly composed my pitch-black body and, with all my heart, made a sincere wish.

May days like today continue for this couple.

For eternity.

All of a sudden a teacup fell, shattering, its sharp fragments scattered across the floor. Red tea spilled everywhere, staining the floor.

The wife, flustered, watched as the maids scrambled to clean up the pieces.

Oh dear, be careful.

Suddenly, I felt drained. As if my wish had been granted, my body was pulled somewhere.

A dark, warm space.

Huh? Where am I?

Wait… am I inside the wife’s womb?

…I seem to have been reborn.

As a girl.

***

Pastel Love Craft.

A name that, for some reason, reminds me of the father of cosmic horror.

But I’d rather not dwell on that. It’s Love and Craft—two perfectly harmless words. Let’s not get all ominous by putting them together.

Honestly, the ‘Love’ part made sense. I suited me—pink hair, pink eyes, a kind, gentle, and positive disposition. Oh, it sounds like I am patting myself on the back? Well… so what? It’s just facts. 

Unfortunately, no one’s had the pleasure of seeing this delightful personality in action. 

Why? Well, it was because after I was reborn, my consciousness just went “Byebye~” 

Just like that thirteen years of my life passed away without any hope for recovery, in a state of mental retardation, that is.

Rumour had it, “The young lady had lost her soul…” Well, duh. I literally just ate and slept, aided by an army of worried servants.

I guess I should be grateful to them though. Thanks to their efforts, I barely managed to learn language and writing. That’s about the only gift from this wasted childhood. 

Sigh… It’s weird feeling relieved about having basic common sense…

And as if that wasn’t enough, things somehow got worse. I don’t know what kind of karmic disaster I triggered, but by the time my soul settled in, my family had gone down the drain.

I woke up in a desolate room. No furniture, no carpets. Only a few unfaded spots on the floor where furniture once stood. It seems everything had been sold off.

There was no warmth here, not even a single sign of life.

Various memories came flooding in—Mother had died, and Father, who had married into the family, had blown through all our assets. 

Sigh… I was the head of the family now.

Yeah, me. An abandoned, stupid aristocrat. 

As I lamented my fate, my stomach growled.

“No, seriously, where’s my happy life?!” Pastel clutched her head, her pink hair flying everywhere.

This was supposed to be my second chance at greatness. Instead of a life sent licking the boots of a chaebol family, I was supposed to live out my fantasies of a morally dubious but noble life.

But here I was—crushed before I even had the chance to lick a single boot…

“My dream life...!!!”

I could have licked those shoes clean!!!

It was my expertise after all. 

Ugh-!

I tried to clear my hazy mind.

Sigh… I miss the chairman’s slush funds… I should’ve skimmed some while I had the chance. 

I sighed and headed for the window. Maybe some fresh air would help… When I opened it, though, the winter wind slapped me across the face.

“Whoa!”

I reached out to close it, but then I heard a commotion coming from below. Curious, I stuck my head out the narrow window. 

An endlessly vast garden stretched out.

But the garden, which should have been a lush paradise with green vegetation and bursting with colorful flower bouquets, was in utter chaos.

The plants had rotted, their colors drained. Dark, inhuman figures prowled about, beastlike and eerie.

Some of them spotted Pastel and let out blood-curdling shrieks. A wave of fierce hostility swept over me like needles prickling my skin.

Pastel’s mind went blank for a moment.

Why the hell is my family estate suddenly a horror scene? Did we skip straight to a zombie apocalypse?

Sigh… This was a perplexing situation for a modern person.

Before she could even process it, one of the black inhuman figures charged. It leaped toward the window, screeching like nails on a chalkboard. 

Startled, Pastel slammed the window shut just as it hit, the sound of claws scraping against the glass ringing in her ears.

Panting, she backed away, stroking her chest.

“What the hell happened to my family?”

Mother’s dead. Father’s a marriage scamming deadbeat. The mansion is overrun by literal nightmares. And I, the heiress, have been left to rot.

I needed answers. 

I thought about going outside to grab a servant—someone, anyone—to assess the situation. Not, not that I know how to perform the duties of a family head… Well, it’s ultimately a class system, right?

Cautiously, I started to crack open the door but stopped, feeling an ominous feeling.

Haha, surely… Surely, not inside too, right?

As I peeked through the slightly opened door, a pair of glowing yellow eyes stared back at me. A wolf, shrouded in a black aura, its sharp fangs bared, growled softly as its pupils dilated. 

Oh...

Hi? 

Fren? We’re friends, right? Haha…

They weren’t.

The wolf snarled and lunged, black drool spraying everywhere.

Pastel slammed the door shut, securing the heavy bar lock just in time. A deafening crash rattled the door as it collided with the beast. The lock shook, but held firm. 

With shaky steps, she backed away, frantically scanning the room for a weapon.

A weapon, a weapon!

The room was empty, save for the blanket I’d been using and a… stick?

A wooden stick, discarded in the corner.

Pastel dashed over and quickly grabbed it. It was about the length of her forearm—way too short to be useful. 

She swung it around, and instead of a satisfying ‘woosh’, it gave a pathetic ‘swish’. 

It felt more like a glow stick than a weapon.

I couldn’t even catch a pigeon with this…

“Ugh, this is so lame.”

I can’t even use this as a weapon…

Desperate, she scanned the room again, hoping for something better. But there was nothing else.

“Of course. Just my luck.”

With no other options, Pastel gripped the stick tighter, aiming it at the door. She calmed her mind while glaring at the violently shaking door.

Her nerves were on fire. The cool air and every small movement of every speck of dust sank into the edges of her consciousness.

Her gaze was fixed on the locking device. The bar trembled and made noise, but it held strong. It was sturdy.

Huh?

It was holding? 

Am I… actually safe? I don’t need to fight with this glow stick? Heh. Hehehe.

Pastel maintained her focus and observed the situation. After a while, the wolf seemed to lose strength as the banging quieted down.

She waited longer, but there was no change.

She exhaled a shaky breath, raising my arms in triumph.

“Hurray for human engineering!”

It was humanity’s victory!

She waited a bit longer, just in case, before cautiously peeking out the window again. Modern people should use their heads, not their bodies after all.

The dark garden below was still a war zone, but the airships in the sky floated peacefully by, completely unbothered by the nightmare playing out at ground level. 

“As expected. This mess is only happened here.”

Sigh, the course of action is clear now…

With a heavy sigh, Pastel carelessly tossed the useless wooden stick aside.

She had no choice but to wait for rescue.

Given my status, there’s no way outside help wouldn’t come, right? Right?

Dusted off the blanket she had accidentally stepped on while responding to the situation, she wrapped herself with the blanket over her winter dress. After a while, the coldness faded and the chill lessened.

Ah, thank goodness I at least have a blanket.

As the tension somewhat eased, fatigue set in, she slumped against the wall and soon dozed off.

When I woke up, sunlight was streaming in through the window, illuminating the cold room.

A whole day had passed.

No one came.

No commotion either.

No sign of anything at all.

Pastel got up, clutching her growling stomach. The cold crept into her bones, making her hunger worse. She could barely feel her fingers. And then came the thirst.

Picking up the wooden stick again, she examined the room and found a rough seam in the stone floor. 

She placed the wooden stick against it, and she applied her weight, pushing, and scraping the wood a little.

She reset its position and pushed again.

Scraping the stick against the floor, over and over, sharpening one end. 

Dozens of times. Hundreds.

Slowly but surely, the wood became pointed—sharp, even.

Just like a wolf’s fang.

Hahahahaha! Let’s see who dies first!!!