<Episode 1>

Chak-!

As the maid drew back the curtains, sunlight poured onto the bed.

I was still sitting there, leaning against the headboard in a daze.

“Did you not sleep well again, my lady?”

A maid, whose face I didn’t recognize, cautiously asked, gauging my mood.

I didn’t even have the energy to answer, so I just waved her away.

She left, saying she’d bring breakfast.

I looked around with bleary eyes.

Once again, I had woken up in this old-fashioned bedroom.

It was large enough to feel slightly chilly.

“Sigh.”

In deep despair, I pressed my warm eyes with both hands.

I’ve lived a pretty decent life.

I can’t say I’m guaranteed a spot in heaven, but I never committed any sins with the clean hands my parents gave me.

So how did I end up in this body, of all places?

And why do I keep having this nightmare every single day?

Frustrated, I ruffled my hair in a fit of irritation.

Possession.

For some, it might be a sweet dream.

But for me, it’s like getting hit by bird poop while walking down the street.

The worst part? The novel I’ve been possessed into is <The Saintess’s Salvation,> a book I begrudgingly read on Kim Duksu’s recommendation.

The story begins with a virus-laden mist seeping into a holy cemetery, causing the skeletons to rise.

From that moment, the sacred area becomes a zombie zone, cut off from the empire. The four male leads trapped inside struggle to survive, battling zombies and forming bonds of brotherhood.

Just when they’re on the brink of losing their sanity, the saintess appears, purifies the zombies, and leads them to a bittersweet ending.

‘Okay, so far, none of that involves me.’

The problem is, I’m the younger sister of Hayton Arios, who’s responsible for the zombie outbreak. I’m also the “lady who tries to escape with survival supplies,” the one who gets trapped with the male leads in the zombie zone.

Worse still, my character is nothing more than a plot device, killed off as part of the male leads’ revenge arc.

‘I’m Redria. Of all people, I’m Redria!’

On the first day of my possession, I was so shocked that I tried to jump out of a window.

I’d heard somewhere that after death, you return to your original body.

‘My lady! How long has it been since you threw yourself into the pond because you didn’t want to attend the prayer meeting? Please, calm down!’

‘If you’re going to die, kill me first and then go!’

I failed, thanks to the frantic interventions of the people around me and the count and countess.

…Honestly, it was only the second floor, so I figured I’d just break a few bones, not die, and that wouldn’t do.

Next, I planned an escape.

But fleeing as a noblewoman wasn’t as easy as it is in novels.

The maids were the ones who managed the jewelry I needed for escape funds, and even when I tried to disguise myself, they always recognized me.

‘Where are you going, my lady?’

Because of the suicide attempt, the servants kept a close eye on me, and I was caught trying to escape through the window or the basement.

In the end, with no attachment to my past life and no way to escape, I decided to just shut myself away.

But now, because of these nightmares, I couldn’t even get a decent night’s sleep.

Sure, the future looked bleak, but the lack of sleep was driving me insane.

I buried my face in my hands.

‘Someone just knock me out already…’

I never realized how precious sleep was until I was possessed.

As each day passed, I lost track of what I was eating, what I was wearing, or what I was doing.

In fact, the failed suicide and escape attempts were because I was so sleep-deprived and delirious.

“Sigh.”

Another sleepless night. As I lifted my head, my tired eyes caught sight of the calendar on the bedside table.

Today marks one week since I was possessed.

‘Is my aunt okay?’

I grew up in a single-parent household and lost my mother when I was 16. After that, I relied on my aunt.

She cared for me like her own daughter… but, well, we all know how that goes. I could never really be her daughter.

A rolling stone can’t push out a fixed one, so I moved out when I turned twenty, borrowing some money from my aunt to get my own place.

I drifted through my high school years and lived aimlessly as a freeter until my mid-twenties.

Tl/N: In Japan, a freeter (フリーター, furītā) is a person aged 18 to 34 who is unemployed, underemployed, or otherwise lacks full-time paid employment. The term excludes housewives and students.
Freeters do not start a career after high school or university, but instead earn money from low-paid jobs.

‘The day I was possessed was the same day my aunt usually brought me food…’

I let out a shallow sigh, blinking my dry, sleep-deprived eyes as I picked up the calendar.

“Come to think of it, how many days until the prayer meeting?”

Counting the days, I realized there were exactly 30 days left.

‘Thirty days…’

With my sleep-deprived mind, I tried to recall the original novel.

‘What was Redria’s fate again?’

It was the first time I allowed myself to really think back on that nightmare.

I had always tried to avoid recalling the ending, but now it was unavoidable.

In the dream, as I trembled in fear, my vision flashed with light from the magic circle. Then, in an instant, blood spurted like a fountain, and I was dismembered without even a scream.

The memory of that scene sent chills down my spine, waking me up more than the cold ever could.

‘Right. That wasn’t just a nightmare.’

That was Redria’s fate in the original story.

Redria is me.

The nightmare is my future.

If things keep going like this, I’ll die as the story dictates, get trapped in the zombie zone and become a zombie, or even if I survive, I’ll end up executed because of Hayton.

‘…But can I really afford to waste time like this?’

Realizing that, I suddenly felt panicked, like I was running out of time. I slapped my cheeks twice, hard.

Rubbing my stinging cheeks, I forced my eyes wide open.

‘Get a grip. I might not be able to go back to my original body, but I can’t just die.’

My life is worth more than that.

‘What can I do to survive?’

I started to think as hard as I could with my sleep-deprived brain.