Rain hammered violently against the thin windows of Seo Yeon-hwa's tiny apartment. Outside, the night swirled with cold wind and angry thunder, but inside, the only storm was the one brewing across her face as she stared at her tablet.
> "Why—why is she like this?!"
Her voice echoed sharply through the room, bouncing off cheap walls and a half-broken bookshelf.
On the screen, the final chapter of Blooming Winter glowed mockingly. That stupid novel. That infuriating villainess character. That idiotic ending. She'd read hundreds of stories, but none had left her quite as irritated as this one.
The villainess—also named Seo Yeon-hwa—was the reason.
The fictional girl was everything wrong with rich daughters in chaebol romances.
Desperate.
Obsessive.
Emotionally unstable.
Clinging to a childhood sweetheart like glue.
Chasing a fate that never belonged to her.
Real Yeon-hwa pressed the back of her hand against her forehead and groaned.
> "Why would she chase a man who clearly hates her? He said it SO many times!"
In the novel, Kang Min-joon, son of the powerful Kanghae Group, had been nothing but cold to the villainess. The engagement between them existed only because their families had arranged it at birth. Everyone teased them as the "future couple."
Everyone… except him.
He never loved her.
Never liked her.
Never even looked at her properly.
And the fictional Seo Yeon-hwa still chased him—she chased him through humiliation, heartbreak, and public disgrace until she became the pathetic villainess readers mocked.
Real Yeon-hwa buried her face into her pillow and let out a muffled scream.
> "She ruined her whole life for a guy! A GUY! Girl, wake up!"
She lifted her head only to glare harder at the tablet.
Why did this annoy her so much?
Why did she feel her entire body tense whenever this villainess showed up on the page?
Why, every time she read that name—her own name—did she feel a strange irritation, like she was being personally insulted?
> "Seo Yeon-hwa. Ugh. Why MY name? Why not Seo Min-hee? Seo Ah-young? Seo literally-anything-else?"
She dragged her fingers through her hair in exasperation.
It wasn't the name that annoyed her—it was the reflection. The fictional villainess represented everything she never wanted to be: someone who lost herself for love, someone who used her privilege poorly, someone who never learned to stand on her own.
Someone who let heartbreak ruin her entire identity.
Real Yeon-hwa sighed again, sinking deeper into her sheets.
She wasn't wealthy. She didn't have jewels, heirlooms, or a mansion with 50 rooms. She had no family business, no powerful surname, no fiancé chosen by fate or adults. Her life was the opposite of the villainess's life.
But maybe that was why the character grated on her nerves.
The fictional Seo Yeon-hwa had EVERYTHING—money, connections, status, the whole world bowing at her feet—and she threw it all away for a man.
> "If it were me," real Yeon-hwa muttered, "I'd burn that engagement contract myself. I'd walk away so fast Min-joon wouldn't even see my shadow."
Her tablet vibrated slightly from the force of her rant.
She scoffed and turned the page again, rereading the villainess's tragic end.
Her father, Chairman Seo, collapsing under the pressure of a business attack.
The Seo Group's stocks plummeting overnight.
Directors betraying them.
Media tearing them apart.
Scandals erupting.
Emergency meetings.
Chaebol politics.
Her father getting into a horrific car accident and ending up in a coma.
Her mother wasting away from stress.
Relatives circling like vultures.
The engagement broken publicly.
Min-joon choosing the heroine.
The villainess snapping mentally.
Turning cruel.
Self-destructing.
Dying alone.
Real Yeon-hwa clenched her fists.
> "You absolute idiot. You had everything except self-respect."
Thunder shook the windows loudly.
She flinched.
The storm was worsening.
Wind whipped fiercely outside, rattling the loose frame of her window. A flickering streetlight cast sharp shadows across her room. The atmosphere suddenly felt ominous.
But she was too annoyed to care.
Real Yeon-hwa threw her blanket aside and stood up, pacing around the room, her voice rising in frustration.
> "You could've saved your company! You could've managed things with basic intelligence! You could've talked to your father, hired investigators, fired the traitors—anything! But NO. You cried over Min-joon, cried in the mansion, cried outside the office, cried at the engagement party—"
She pointed accusingly at the tablet like it was the villainess herself.
> "You deserve that book's ending."
Another flash of lightning lit the room stark white.
The tablet flickered.
Real Yeon-hwa frowned and stepped closer, picking it up.
The screen continued glitching.
Letters twisted.
Colors warped.
The novel text scrambled.
"What the—?"
A loud electronic crackle echoed.
The screen turned black for a moment.
Then a strange blue light rippled across it, forming words she'd never seen before.
SYSTEM ERROR…
USER PROFILE DETECTED…
MATCH FOUND…
SEO YEON-HWA — SYNC COMPLETE.
Her heart froze for a moment.
> "What… kind of sick joke is this?"
She tapped the screen.
It didn't respond.
Instead, the words multiplied.
SEO YEON-HWA
SEO YEON-HWA
SEO YEON-HWA
SEO YEON-HWA
Her entire room flickered as if the electricity was being sucked away. For a moment, the shadows stretched unnaturally across the walls.
Then—
CRACK.
A violent jolt hit her chest.
It didn't feel like electricity.
It felt like a hammer slamming straight into her heart.
She staggered backward.
The tablet fell from her hands, hitting the floor with a dull thud.
Her breath came out ragged.
Her vision blurred.
Her legs trembled.
She clutched her chest, panic surging.
"W-Why… can't I breathe…?"
A metallic ringing filled her ears.
Her body felt impossibly heavy.
Something warm trickled from her nose—blood.
Her knees buckled.
She collapsed onto the floor.
The room dimmed.
Her heartbeat slowed.
Her breaths shortened painfully.
Her fingers reached weakly toward the fallen tablet—but the distance kept growing, like her body was sinking into the ground.
Her vision tunneled.
Darkness crept in from the edges.
Her final breath was shallow, a whisper of disbelief:
> "I wasn't… done insulting the villainess yet…"
Then—
A cold voice echoed.
Mechanical.
Emotionless.
Final.
[TRANSMIGRATION COMPLETE.]
[WELCOME, SEO YEON-HWA.]
And the world went dark.
---
Warmth.
A blurry glow.
Faint movement around her.
Soft whispers.
She wasn't dead.
Not exactly.
She felt… weightless, floating between worlds. Her consciousness struggled to surface, like her mind was trapped beneath heavy water.
A voice in the distance murmured:
"She fainted again?"
Another voice answered, anxious:
"Poor Miss Yeon-hwa… too much stress lately…"
That name again.
Yeon-hwa.
Her heartbeat trembled.
Where… was she?
Why… did that name feel different?
Her breath hitched as a soft hand touched her forehead.
"Miss? Can you hear us?"
Her eyelids twitched.
Slowly, painfully, they lifted.
Her eyes adjusted to the soft golden light seeping through the windows.
This wasn't her apartment.
This wasn't her world.
She lay in a massive four-poster bed with silk sheets. The scent of lilies drifted from a crystal vase. A shimmering chandelier hung overhead. The walls were decorated with gold leaf and hand-painted patterns.
A luxurious Korean chaebol mansion.
Her mouth dried instantly.
Something inside her knew—
before anyone said anything—
before the shock even fully formed—
She wasn't home.
She wasn't herself.
Not her old self.
The air felt too rich.
The sheets too smooth.
The world too heavy with prestige.
A maid gasped the moment Yeon-hwa sat up.
"Oh! Miss Yeon-hwa, you're awake!"
Real Yeon-hwa—no, new Yeon-hwa—stiffened.
Another maid rushed in, hands trembling.
"You scared us last night… we thought you would faint again after hearing about Young Master Min-joon…!"
Her blood ran cold.
No.
No, no, no—
Not that name.
Not that man.
Not that story.
But her heart hammered painfully.
"How… how do you know that name…?" she whispered.
The maids looked confused.
One spoke gently:
"Miss… Young Master Min-joon is your fiancé."
Her world tilted.
Her throat tightened.
Her mind flooded with unimaginable clarity.
She was the villainess.
The one she'd spent hours insulting.
The pitiful girl who threw her life away for a cold boy.
The one named…
Seo Yeon-hwa.
Her breath came in ragged bursts.
In disbelief, desperation, fear—
she stumbled toward the mirror across the room.
The maids called after her, but she didn't hear them.
Her trembling fingers touched the cold mirror frame.
Her reflection stared back.
Beautiful.
Fragile.
Rich-girl aura.
Eyes red from crying.
Soft lips trembling.
A girl who looked seconds away from another breakdown.
A girl who was not her.
A girl she recognized only from the pages of a book.
> "No… This… can't be…"
A sound sliced through the air.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
A blue holographic window flickered to life right in front of her reflection.
Her breath caught.
She stumbled back, hitting the edge of the dresser.
No one else saw it.
Only her.
Words hovered in the air like floating light.
[Villainess Reformation System 1.0 Activated]
[User: Seo Yeon-hwa]
[Role: Transmigrated Villainess]
[Primary Objective: Correct Your Life Path]
[Penalty for Violations: Physical pain, status loss, public humiliation]
Her hands shook violently.
She felt her soul lurch.
The system flashed again.
[WARNING: Do NOT chase Kang Min-joon.]
[Penalty on violation: Immediate severe pain.]
Her body froze.
The name Min-joon tasted bitter in her mouth.
As the words dissolved, a final line appeared.
A line that made her heart drop, cold and heavy.
[Your father, Chairman Seo Ji-won, is currently in a coma.]
Everything inside her shattered.
Her lips parted soundlessly.
A tremor went through her entire body.
> "…No."
Her father in the novel.
Her father in this world.
The beginning of the villainess's downfall.
Her new life had begun.
And she was already standing at the cliff's edge.