RPL 1

Chapter 1

Through half-lidded eyes, all I could see was pure, pitch-black darkness.

“I’m hungry.”

I mumbled it while rubbing my face into the blanket.

The room was completely dark, and the fact that hunger hit me the second I woke up meant I’d probably been out for a long time.

*What time is it?*

Still lying face-down, I blindly patted around the bed looking for my phone.

Nothing. No matter how much I searched, my hand came up empty. It must’ve fallen on the floor while I was asleep.

I had no choice. I pushed through the foggy, heavy feeling and forced myself to sit up.

“……?”

That was all I did, yet my body felt weirdly heavy. Like I’d caught a bad cold or something.

More accurately, it felt exactly like a Friday night after a full week of overtime.

I sighed and swung one foot down off the bed.

It had already been three months since I quit my job, but memories of those days still hit me out of nowhere sometimes.

*Do I even have any cold medicine left at home?*

That was when I heard it—a weird metallic clank.

“What the hell.”

The sound came from the foot I’d just put on the floor.

Looking back, it didn’t even feel like I’d lowered my foot on purpose. More like something had pulled it down.

Something was wrapped around my ankle. Something heavy that made that unpleasant noise.

A creepy feeling crawled up my spine. Maybe I was imagining it… but could a sound and weight this clear really be imaginary?

Still, I decided to check. I carefully lifted the foot I’d lowered.

It felt really heavy.

“……”

There was a shackle locked around my ankle.

“What is this?”

The whole situation was so unexpected that I just sat there blinking for a second. Then I reached for the shackle, trying to yank it off.

I pulled as hard as I could. It wouldn’t budge.

The more desperate my hands got, the louder the chain attached to it rattled—clank, clank.

“……”

Listening to that sound sent a cold shiver straight down my back. My heart started hammering. My fingertips went ice-cold. Cold sweat soaked my forehead and hair in seconds.

*This… what the hell is this…*

I scrubbed my face with both hands, trying to snap out of it.

The sweat on my face instantly made my palms damp, and from those wet hands came the sharp smell of iron.

That clear touch and smell drove it home: this was real. This was actually happening.

*No way.*

How could this possibly be real?

I desperately tried to remember what happened before I fell asleep, but nothing unusual came to mind.

*Someone broke in while I was sleeping and…*

I swallowed hard and slowly looked around. My throat made a dry, creaking sound like rusted metal.

“What the…”

I was speechless again.

This wasn’t my studio apartment. It was some place I’d never seen before.

The blurry, bleak outlines in the darkness made fear rise in my chest.

There was only one explanation left.

Someone had kidnapped me while I was sleeping at home and put a shackle on me so I couldn’t run.

*Calm down. Just calm down.*

My whole body was shaking like a leaf, but I forced myself to keep it together.

If I lost it here, I was done for.

Lucky or unlucky, there was no one else in the room. That meant I had to escape while I still could.

*Should I try the shackle first? Or find the door?*

Just in case, I grabbed the chain and pulled.

It was fixed somewhere. Of course it was.

Finding the door wouldn’t help if I was still chained, so I had to deal with this first.

I followed the chain until I reached a thick pillar that ran from floor to ceiling.

I spent a long time trying every way I could think of to break or free the chain from that pillar. Nothing worked.

“This is insane.”

Despair hit me hard. I muttered a quiet curse and moved toward the wall, looking for a door.

As I walked, I glanced at the only window letting in any light.

“……”

I looked away almost immediately. With the shackle on, that window was useless.

It was also way too small and way too high up.

*Just find the door for now.*

I put my hand on the wall and started walking slowly.

After a while, my fingers found something different among the rough stone.

A door.

“……”

I pressed my ear against it, wondering if anyone was outside.

No sound. No presence.

“Hello?!”

I raised my voice while checking the door.

“There’s someone locked in here!”

There was nothing that even looked like a handle. Pushing did nothing.

“Hey! Please help me!”

I banged on the door and shouted for a long time. Not even the kidnapper showed up.

I felt strangely weak, and with no way out, I finally just collapsed onto the floor.

*…Haa.*

I leaned my back against the door and slowly looked around again—at the room, and at the chain on my ankle.

“……?”

I rubbed my eyes hard, thinking I must’ve seen wrong. Nothing changed.

I looked away from the unusually small foot and thin leg, then stared at the hand I’d just used to rub my eyes.

“What the hell is going on.”

It wasn’t just my feet. My hands looked tiny too—like a child’s.

Even the voice that slipped out of me sounded like a kid’s. How distracted had I been not to notice that sooner?

I quickly tried making some noise.

“Ah— aah—”

Confirmed. I hadn’t misheard.

Looking back, things had felt off ever since I first saw the shackle.

At first I was still half-asleep, then I was panicking, and more than anything, the idea of waking up in a completely different body was so ridiculous that I only realized it now.

“…Possession?”

Faced with something even less realistic than the shackle, I absently scratched my forehead and muttered the word.

*There’s no way.*

I let out a short, unbelieving laugh.

But honestly? Being kidnapped in my sleep and turned into a kid by some weird experiment sounded even less likely than this.

*Is it just because I read too many web novels that my brain went there?*

Come to think of it, I had read something similar recently.

A story where a little kid was locked up with a shackle on her ankle.

“This has to be a dream.”

That felt like the most reasonable answer, so I nodded to myself.

It was way too vivid for a dream, but still more believable than possession or becoming some experiment.

“…Whoa.”

A sound from outside cut my thoughts short. I jumped to my feet. Human voices.

I pressed my ear tightly against the door, wondering if I’d imagined it.

“…ka.”

“…jana.”

People. Two of them.

For a second I debated shouting that someone was trapped and needed help.

If this really was a dream, I’d wake up soon anyway.

“It’s already been years of this. Climbing up and down these same stairs every single day.”

“Tell me about it. I’m so sick of it I could die.”

While I hesitated, their conversation kept going.

*Years? Did they just say years?*

“People say life is stubborn, but who would’ve thought that little brat would last this long. Isn’t it about time she finally died?”

“Hey! Watch your mouth!”

“What, did I say something wrong? I’m sick of hauling myself up and down these stairs every damn day.”

“Thanks to that princess we’ve been making good money, so just think of it as the price we pay.”

“Yeah, well… still.”

Princess…? What were they talking about?

And why did they sound so old-fashioned?

How could I even understand them?

“It’s just weird, that’s all. All she ever gets is this dried-up bread, yet somehow she’s still alive.”

“Must be because her grudge runs deep. Pitiful, tsk tsk.”

“You call her pitiful, yet you always eat the meals meant for that princess like they’re the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“…That’s… different.”

Years. Princess. Grudge. Dried-up bread.

The words tumbled around in my head and came together into something completely insane.

*Creak—*

The sudden noise made me jump back so hard I landed on my butt.

At the same time, a mocking voice floated through the door.

“Oh my? Feeling hungry, are we? Waiting right by the door and everything.”

A small gap opened at the bottom of the door and something was pushed through.

A wooden tray with bread on it.

“…Um.”

A rough, coarse hand set the tray down and disappeared again.

“Hey!”

“Been quiet for a while, and now this.”

I heard someone click their tongue.

I’d only called out, but the tone already sounded annoyed. They didn’t seem like the type to answer questions easily.

So what was I even supposed to ask right now?

“M-my name! What’s my name?!”

I had no idea why that came out.

My voice just spilled out in a rush.

“…What did I just hear?”

“Sounds like she’s asking for her name?”

“What’s my name?!”

Frustration took over. I scrambled up and pounded both fists against the door.

“She’s finally lost it…”

“My name!!!!!!”

Between the banging, I heard someone sigh.

“It’s Princess Regine, isn’t it.”

The second the answer came, my fists stopped.

“What…?”

Regine. Princess Regine.

That was the name of the main character from the romance fantasy novel I’d been reading.

* * *

The novel was called *Regine, the Beloved Princess*.

From the title alone you’d think it was a simple story about a princess everyone adored. It wasn’t.

She might have been a beloved princess once.

But when Regine’s mother—the previous empress—was executed for treason, Regine was instantly branded “the child of a criminal.”

On the suspicion that she might have been involved, she was locked away in a room at the very top of the castle.

She eventually got out of confinement and lived in the palace as a princess again, but her suffering didn’t stop there.

Her father the emperor completely ignored her, and the new empress made a habit of abusing the little girl.

That wasn’t even the worst of it.

People pointed at her, calling her a criminal’s child and treating her like dirt.

Little Regine’s entire life was pure misery.

Later, after she grew up, she got revenge on every single person who had hurt her and even rose all the way to the throne as emperor.

But there was no denying that her childhood had been the absolute worst—so bad that readers constantly complained about how painfully drawn-out and depressing it was.

Yeah. The worst childhood imaginable.

And now I was the one living it.

“This has to be a joke, right?”

I lowered my fists from the door and muttered the words emptily.

Why had I asked for my name first?

I should’ve asked why they locked me in here. Or who the hell they even were.

“This can’t be real.”

I didn’t even have the strength to sit anymore, so I just lay down on the floor. The dark ceiling stared back at me.

This couldn’t be happening. There was no way this was reality. It *couldn’t* be reality.

Not a side character. Not an extra. Not even a villain.

The protagonist.

And of all people, the protagonist of the most painfully tragic novel I’d ever read.

And of all times, right at the beginning—right in the middle of the confinement.

“There’s no way.”

I tried to deny it as hard as I could, but the pitch-black ceiling in front of my eyes refused to disappear.

Like it was already showing me my future.