Lauren was lounging on her bed, completely immersed in the final pages of a comic book. The house was quiet—too quiet. Her fingers clutched the paper tightly as the climax neared, the characters’ emotions bleeding from the panels into her imagination. Just as she flipped the next page, the ground beneath her shuddered violently.

An earthquake?

Before she could react, her vision blurred. The comic book slipped from her hands. Everything went black.

She floated in weightlessness, her body numb, her thoughts disjointed.

“Huh?! I feel so light… Where am I?”

Voices, faint and unfamiliar, echoed around her. Faces—strange, warm, smiling—came into view.

“Oh! My daughter is so beautiful,” a woman cooed. “Look, Amah, her cheeks are so soft.”

Lauren’s lips parted. She tried to speak, to ask Where am I?—but only incoherent sounds escaped. “Awoiwoa…”

Her brow furrowed. What was happening?

“She… she spoke!” the man beside her gasped. “Our daughter just spoke!”

Daughter?

Lauren blinked. Her body felt smaller… lighter… softer? She glanced at her hands—tiny. A child’s.

No… this isn’t right.

She could feel it deep in her gut—this wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t her world anymore.

Don’t tell me… don’t tell me I transmigrated into a comic…

Three days passed. Lauren—no, Laura, as everyone now called her—was still reeling. Her memories were intact: the comic books, the novels, the old life. She remembered reading about transmigration in fantasy stories, but now she was living it.

Her ‘parents’ were kind. Gentle. Loving. They named her Laura and doted on her like she was their greatest treasure.

And so, she played the part. What else could she do?

“I got transmigrated as an extra,” she muttered to herself one day, staring into the mirror. “But how do I know what story this is?”

Because, no matter how hard she tried to recall, she didn’t recognize this world. There were no main characters yet, no familiar events, no hints. Just a vague sense of dread that something was coming.

Years passed.

At four years old, Laura tried countless ways to return to her world. All her efforts failed.

Eventually, she stopped trying.

She adapted.

The home she now lived in was peaceful. Silver cutlery, soft silken clothes, warm baths, and meals made with care. Her new parents were endlessly kind—especially her father, who’d often whisper, “You are my precious daughter.”

Laura smiled at him one day and said, “Papa,” wrapping her little arms around him.

He chuckled and hugged her back. “You must always have guards with you, baby. Even inside the garden.”

“But this is our home’s garden,” she pouted.

“Danger is everywhere,” he warned, soft but firm.

Inside, her mother’s voice called from the kitchen. “I made your favorite—chocolate pudding!”

Laura’s face lit up. “Yay! Chocolate pudding!”

And so, a happy life continued for fourteen sweet years. Laura grew into a bright, lovely high schooler.

But this wasn’t a fairy tale.

Not yet.

Not when the male lead from a distant memory would soon arrive—with eyes darker than night and a desire more twisted than any love ever written.

Fourteen years had passed since Lauren had first opened her eyes in a new world.

Now fifteen, she stood before her mirror dressed in a crisp uniform, the crest of a prestigious high school shining faintly on her chest. She was no longer just Lauren—she was Laura, daughter of a respected and wealthy couple, and heir to their legacy.

Her parents had gone to great lengths to have her, a miracle child born to them late in life. They were older now, but they adored her deeply. And in time, Laura had come to love them too—not just as caretakers, but as true family.

She walked into the dining room one sunny morning to the scent of warm toast and cocoa.

“Laura, come quickly and have breakfast, or you'll be late!” her mother called.

“Coming, Mom!” she replied, grabbing her bag.

“Good morning, Dad. Good morning, Mom,” she greeted them both.

“Good morning, my lovely daughter,” her father said with a smile, setting down his newspaper. “Come, sit. We’ll eat together.”

“I’ll drop you at school while I head to the office,” he added.

“Okay, Dad!”

As she chewed on buttered bread, her father glanced at her thoughtfully.

“Laura,” he said, “I think it’s time for you to be formally introduced to our society—as my heir.”

Laura blinked. “Dad…”

“I know you’ve been enjoying school and your friends, but it’s time. You’re ready. I’m certain everyone will be charmed by your sunny, kind nature.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay, Dad. Whatever you say. I’ll follow.”

He smiled. “That’s my girl.”

“Oh my baby!” he added warmly, drawing her into a hug.

“I love you, Daddy,” she whispered, hugging him back.

The car pulled up in front of her school.

“Love you, Dad!”

“Love you too, daughter,” he replied, waving as she disappeared through the school gates.

Inside the classroom, Laura was immediately greeted by her cheerful classmate, Daisy.

“Laura, you came!”

Laura smiled. “Hey, I wouldn’t miss it.”

Daisy giggled. “You know there’s a function coming up?”

“In a week,” Daisy explained, “lots of high school and middle school students will perform together. So second-year high schoolers like us will work with second-year middle schoolers.”

Laura nodded, intrigued.

Their teacher entered the room. “Alright, everyone, form your own groups for the performance. Minimum five members.”

Laura glanced around. Her group quickly formed.

Later, in the canteen, the five of them sat in a huddle, brainstorming.

“What should we do?” Laura asked.

“Fashion show?” Daisy suggested and others also give their opinions.

Laura nodded. “Sounds fun. But instead of doing it ourselves, how about we guide the middle schoolers on stage?”

What you all think?

Everyone agreed.

“Then let’s go find our partners!” Daisy declared.

They headed off to meet the second-year middle schoolers. As they entered the next building, Laura’s gaze drifted—then paused.

There was a boy with white hair and dark sharp eyes, standing quietly in the hallway alone. His expression was unreadable, calm yet distant.

Laura felt a flicker of curiosity—he seemed different, somehow. But there was no recognition, no memory tugging at her mind.

She smiled politely, then turned away to join her group, not realizing that her story had already begun to shift.

As they headed off to meet the second-year middle schoolers for their upcoming fashion show, Laura’s thoughts were scattered, but something caught her attention—a boy with white hair and dark, sharp eyes standing alone in a hallway. His expression was unreadable, calm yet distant.

Laura had a soft spot for beautiful and cute things, whether they were objects or people. But this boy’s presence was different. He was undoubtedly handsome, like in the typical sense of a comic-book protagonist. There was something else about him, something that made Laura pause.

Huh? Laura snapped out of her daze, realizing she had fallen behind as her group approached the classroom of the second-year middle schoolers.

Wait, is that boy an important character in this world? she wondered. She remembered her earlier observation: in this world, most people blended into the background, but certain ones stood out—those destined to shape the main story.

So, could he be one of them? Or perhaps… he’s the isolated, brooding character who appears in every story?

Lost in thought, Laura finally caught up with Daisy and the others as they reached the second-year classroom.

Daisy turned to Laura, her tone practical. “Laura, what do you think? Who’s the best fit for our fashion show?”

“Oh! Let’s first introduce ourselves,” Laura said, regaining her composure.

Herman, another member of their group, stepped forward and explained their project to the class. He invited anyone who was interested to join. Almost fifteen students volunteered, but they only needed ten. They decided to hold a quick selection.

Just as they were about to begin, the boy Laura had seen earlier walked into the classroom.

Laura’s breath caught. It’s him… the boy with the icy gaze.

Daisy followed her line of sight. “Huh? Who’s that?”

Laura felt a rush of embarrassment. “I… I just think he’d be perfect for the final spot on stage. Look at his presence, his beauty and confidence…”

She trailed off, her cheeks warming in shame for blurting out her thoughts so openly.

The boy simply said, “Not interested.”

He spoke with a maturity that set him apart from his classmates. His tone was calm but final.

Daisy, still hopeful, pressed, “But why? You know this event is important for all students—”

“I don’t need to,” he interrupted, his voice cool and detached.

A girl from the class, watching the exchange, turned to Daisy and whispered, “Big sister, it’s no use. He won’t listen to you. His father is the great chancellor of the school. And he’s exceptional in both study and sports. He never joins things like this.”

Laura’s curiosity only deepened. Bingo, she thought. I’m sure he’s one of the central characters of this world—even if he keeps his distance, his background alone says it all. I need to know his name.

Summoning her courage, she asked, “Well, boy, what’s your name?”

But he didn’t even glance at her. He simply walked to his desk and sat down, ignoring her completely.

Laura stood there, stunned. Did he just… ignore me?

This time, the boy’s indifference didn’t just pique Laura’s curiosity—it sparked a quiet determination. She knew there was something significant about him. And no matter how cold or distant he seemed, she was resolved to find out who he truly was.