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Chapter 1

I’m a ghost.

That means I’m dead.

I never thought I’d die from overworking. But I guess a human can actually work themselves to death if they enjoy it too much.

Where did it all go wrong? Was it when I successfully moved to the strategic planning department? Or maybe it was when I was so happy that I exhausted my body with overtime?

Either way, I ended up dead.

Ugh.

Looking back on my past, I felt a surge of anger. I can’t hold back my true feelings anymore.

Give it back.

My life.

My happy life of leeching off a conglomerate family…!

I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being happy while licking the shoes of a royal family, right?

But if I go and die from being too focused on my master’s shoes, what will happen to my life?

Was it so wrong to wash away the chairman’s side funds day and night? Was it wrong to even consider skimming a little off the top?

Well, I guess I could concede that my life might have gone awry.

But I’m proud to say I did my best. If the world were fair, I’d think it should repay me for this sudden death.

Hmm.

You know, something like being isekai’d or acquiring a cheat key. I wouldn’t mind going back to the past either.

Hmm…

What if I become a conglomerate this time? Huh? To be honest, I wasn’t a fan of that chairman. If you’re going to be a master, then be a proper one. Share your side funds, you ugly thing.

With a racing heart, I looked around. But what I saw was nothing like I hoped.

A plaza, a carriage, Western-style buildings.

Medieval? Renaissance? Right before modern times?

I saw an airship flying in the sky.

Wow, fantasy.

My life was a normal modern one, but suddenly I’m in a fantasy world.

I collapsed from work and woke up to find that I’m a ghost in an unknown fantasy realm.

It feels like a lot of the processes got skipped. Where’s the angel to explain my death? Where’s the god to grant me a cheat key?

P-Please tell me this isn’t all there is.

If I’m feeling like this, I could probably clean two pairs of royal family shoes. I’m confident in that.

But unlike my hopes, the situation didn’t change as the sun rose and set again.

Reluctantly, I drifted around in my black, round ghost body, searching for angels, grim reapers, or something.

But then I discovered something peculiar.

I lightly poked a flowerpot’s leaves with my ghostly body.

The leaves crumbled like someone who died from hard work. In an instant, the stem wilted and the flower fell.

The beautiful pot was ruined.

This time, I flew over to the cat sitting on the roof. I didn’t have to worry about dying. As I approached, the cat freaked out and dashed away.

Ah.

I was rejected by both plants and animals.

Is this how it feels for a foreigner settling in a rural area, facing local hostility? My fragile heart feels like it’s scratched.

It’s true I’m an invader from another dimension.

Fortunately, humans didn’t freak out like animals. They just seemed oblivious? They were highly unguarded but didn’t offer a touch. I’m a kind-hearted ghost, after all.

Time passed. The sun rose and set again. Angels and grim reapers showed no sign of showing up.

Are the afterlife workers not doing their jobs?

Looking for a complaint window, I entered a nearby shrine. What I witnessed was the tragedy of priestesses all foam-mouthed and collapsed.

Discrimination against outsiders…!

If I can’t do this and can’t do that, I have no choice. I feel bad for those afterlife workers, but I have to invade the workplace.

If ghosts exist, it would make sense for the afterlife workers to be present at the moment of life’s birth. Let’s go where babies are born.

I know a happy family. It must be a noble family, as the carriage parade for their wedding seems endless. The vast garden was filled with people and laughter.

In such a good environment, the couple looked sweet together. During tea time, they fed each other cookies. Oh, the vibe is nice.

If nothing special happens, happiness will continue, right?

Time has passed, so shouldn’t they be pregnant by now? For nobles, preparing an heir is a duty.

Peeking through the glass windows, I saw a doctor and the couple chatting over tea.

When the doctor said something, the smiling wife rubbed her belly. The husband softly embraced his wife’s shoulders with a smile.

Are they talking about pregnancy?

How wonderful!

Thanks to them, I saved some time.

I need to bless this joyous day.

I composed my black body solemnly and sincerely wished for this couple to have nothing but days like today.

Forever.

A teacup fell. It shattered, and sharp shards scattered. The black tea stained the floor red.

The wife who dropped the cup panicked. The maids screamed as they hurried to clean up the pieces.

Oh no, be careful!

Suddenly, I felt a loss of strength. Like being pulled by the thread of my wishes, my body got sucked somewhere.

Into a dark, warm space.

Huh? Where is this?

Inside the wife’s womb?

I’ve been reincarnated.

As a girl.

#

Pastel Love Craft.

Isn’t that name reminiscent of the founder of cosmic horror?

It has nothing to do with that. It’s Love and then Craft. Don’t read too ominously.

Actually, Love fits as a middle name for my appearance.

Pink hair, pink eyes, kind and gentle with a positive mindset.

If mentioning my mindset while describing my appearance feels like self-praise, then I guess it’s true. But it’s a fact!

But unfortunately, I haven’t had the chance to showcase this beautiful heart to the world yet.

After my reincarnation, my consciousness drifted away.

And thirteen years passed without any recovery.

I was in a dazed state.

It’s like my soul was gone…? With the help of the servants, I literally just grew up eating and sleeping.

Thankfully, I managed to grasp language and writing thanks to those around me. It’s a complicated feeling to find solace in the common sense in my head.

But was there a cost to that effort? Somehow, the family situation worsened. Very badly.

Now that my soul settled in, the room was desolate.

No furniture, no carpet.
Only the discolored floor showed where the original furniture had been. They had all been sold off.

No warmth or presence could be felt.

Memories briefly flickered in my mind.

My mother died. My father, who was a son-in-law, sold our assets for his own benefit.

I became the head of the family.

The idiot that I was.

I was left here.

My stomach growled.

“No, my happy life?!”

Pastel grabbed her head, her pink hair flying.

Clearly, I started a morally disgraceful noble life instead of licking the shoes of a conglomerate family.

But I’m shipwrecked without even tasting it?

“My life…!”

I could have licked shoes so well.

It suited my aptitude.

Ugh.

I clutched my confused thoughts tightly.

I miss the chairman’s side funds.

I wish I had skimmed a little off the top.

I walked over to the window for some fresh air. When I opened it, the winter wind hit my face.

“Whoa!”

As I reached to close the window again, I heard a commotion outside. Huh? I peeked my head out of the cramped window.

An endlessly vast garden stretched out.

But the lush greenery and colorful flowerbeds should have been flourishing, yet the garden was actually murky.

The plants were rotting away, losing their colors. Here and there, black shapes resembling beasts or non-humans roamed.

Some of them spotted Pastel and let out horrendous screams, with fierce animosity closing in.

Pastel became dazed for a different reason.

What happened to my family?

A biological threat?

That’s quite a shocking situation for a modern person.

The screaming black creatures charged. And then they leaped toward the tall window. The screams pierced my ears.

Pastel flinched and quickly closed the window. Keeping a distance, she watched the situation as sounds of crashing and fighting ensued.

She let out a sigh, sweeping her chest.

“It should have been a happy family.”

My mother is dead, and my father has become a wedding fraudster. The mansion turned into chaos, and I’m left neglected?

I need to go out and catch a servant to get the situation straight. I’m not sure how to be the head of the family, but isn’t that ultimately what this is about?

Instinctively pausing as I opened the door, I was hit with a chilling suspicion.

Could it be the interior too?

I peeked through the slightly ajar door.

A wolf exuding black energy stared back at me. Its vertical pupils expanded. Its jaw opened, revealing sharp fangs.

Oh…

Hello, friend? We’re friends, right?

I was wrong.

The wolf lunged, barking, with black drool flying.

Pastel quickly closed the door, desperately engaging the bar lock. At the same moment, a crash shook the door. The bar trembled.

Trembling, she took a few steps back.

She hurriedly scanned the room.

Weapons! Weapons!

There’s nothing but emptiness. The only things in sight were the blanket she covered herself with and a wooden log thrown in the corner.

A wooden log?

Pastel quickly picked it up.

It was the length and thickness of her forearm.

Isn’t it too short?

She swung it around. There wasn’t a swoosh, just a whoosh. It sounded like a concert stick.

Not even enough to catch a pigeon.

“Ugh, this is the worst.”

This isn’t a weapon, right?

Looking around the room again, she found nothing else.

“This just isn’t my luck.”

Reluctantly, Pastel aimed the wooden log at the door. As she stared intently at the shaking door, she steeled her nerves.

The cold air and a speck of dust settled into her consciousness. Her senses heightened.

Suddenly she glanced at the lock. The bar trembled and made noise but remained intact. Strong.

Huh?

It won’t break? So this isn’t actually a dangerous situation? Do I even need a concert stick to fight?

With her tension intact, Pastel watched the situation closely. After a while, it seemed the wolf gave up; the door fell silent.

She waited a bit longer, but changes didn’t occur.

She raised her arms high.

“Long live technological civilization!”

Victory for humanity!

After keeping an eye on the door, she walked over to the window. Modern people should use their minds rather than their bodies.

She left the troublesome garden behind and gazed at the horizon where the sky met. An airship floated in the blue sky.

She watched carefully. A few airships meandered peacefully through their distinct paths.

“Just as I thought, this dilemma only happened at my house.”

Then there’s only one thing to do.

Pastel casually tossed aside the wooden log that she had little faith in.

She would wait for rescue.

Given her status, it’s unlikely external help wouldn’t come.

She dusted off the blanket she accidentally stepped on while rushing to the door. Then she wrapped it over her winter dress. Soon after, the cold feeling subsided a little.

Thank goodness at least I have a blanket.

As she relaxed her tension, exhaustion set in.

After a while of staring blankly, she sat down and dozed off lightly.

A long time passed.

The only source of light from the window dimmed and brightened. Sunlight bathed the cold room.

A day had passed.

No rescue team arrived.

No similar commotion could be heard either.

Pastel clutched her hungry belly and rose. Not eating lowered her body temperature, making her fingertips icy. She felt a thirst rising.

Picking up the wooden log again, she searched the room and noticed the rough seam of the stone floor. She placed the log there. Applying her weight, the wood barely splintered.

She returned to the starting position and pushed again.

Dozens of times, hundreds of times.

The wood crumbled and sharpened.

Just like the wolf’s fangs.

Let’s see who dies first.


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