From Pawn to Power

Who am I?

Have you ever had one of those days where you feel like the universe woke up and said, "Let's mess with this one"?

Yeah, that was me.

Eun-Byul Lee. Just a random street fighter.

On the streets of Seoul, I wasn't a person. I was a weapon—a fighter who lived by her fists and her gun, feared and hated in equal measure.

I didn't care about anything or anyone. Why? It was simple. I had no one.

My parents? Gone before I could even remember their faces. They left me behind before I knew how to walk, and the streets became my cradle.

Love?

Trust?

Those were luxuries for people with soft lives and warm homes. People like me didn't have time for that. Survival was the only thing that mattered.

And I was damn good at it.

At least, I thought I was.

And that night was supposed to be no different.

Working at a convenience store, late shift, tired but used to it. My hands smelled like stale cigarettes, and my eyes were half-closed, fighting the constant exhaustion of someone who had never known rest. The clock ticked away. My shift ended. I was ready to escape into the small, rundown room I called home.

I grabbed some cheap instant noodles and a bottle of soju, because why not? Life was a joke, and so was I. I was going to eat and drink my way to sleep, wake up to another day in the same empty cycle, and do it all over again. Who needed anything more?

The rain was coming down hard—just my luck. I swear I saw the green light before I stepped out onto the street. Same damn green light I saw every damn day. Why wouldn't it be? So how the hell did that idiot behind the wheel miss me?

Maybe he was drunk, maybe distracted. I didn't care. All I knew was the screech of tires, the glare of headlights, and the sickening crunch as that car hit me. My body slammed against the pavement. Pain shot through my chest—sharp, burning, and then... black. Darkness. Nothing.

I was thrown forward, my body slamming against the wet pavement. Pain exploded in my chest, sharp and hot, and then, darkness. It swallowed me whole, leaving nothing but a void.

A car crash.

A random mistake.

A stupid way to die.

Really, who would've thought that Eun-Byul Lee, the street fighter, would die just like this?

I always imagined going out in a blaze of glory—guns blazing, fists flying, a final fight where I take down my enemies and make my mark. But no. I didn't get that. I got a shitty driver, a rainy night, and the pavement.

And just like that, everything went black.

No light, no tunnel, no angels singing. Just... nothing. Like I blinked, and then, I was gone.

But—wait.

What the hell is this?

Why does my body feel so light and... warm but also tired? I opened my eyes, and everything was blurry. When my vision finally cleared, the first thing I saw was a grand chandelier.

What the actual fuck?

Am I in a hospital? But which hospital has a chandelier like this in their patient room?

Then it hit me: Am I in heaven? No way. I was supposed to be in hell. I've killed people. Bad people, yeah, but still. And this? This doesn't look like any afterlife I've heard of.

I turned my head. This wasn't a hospital. Hell, it wasn't even close. A luxurious room, the kind of thing you see in some weird-ass fairytale. A freaking princess room. What the hell is going on?

Then I heard it. A voice. A frantic voice.

"Oh my god, Lady Cecilia."

Cecilia...? Who the hell...?

I blinked, trying to make sense of it. Then, a girl in a maid uniform came running to me, her steps quick and frantic. Her voice trembled as she spoke, "Lady Cecilia, you woke up?"

What the hell? Why is she calling me Cecilia? Who the hell is she? What's going on?

I tried to sit up, but my body felt weak—too weak. I was shaking, unable to control the way my limbs felt so limp. My mind was screaming for answers, but no words came out. I opened my mouth, but all that escaped was a dry, rasping whisper.

"Wa... ter..." I croaked, my throat burning.

The maid froze for a moment, looking down at me with wide, worried eyes, but she didn't seem to understand. She looked like she wanted to help but couldn't figure out how.

"Lady Cecilia, just... just rest," she said, her voice quivering as if she feared I might collapse again.

Damn this girl.

"Water," I repeated, more forcefully this time, "Give me the damn water, you idiot."

Her eyes widened, like I'd just threatened to murder her, but she snapped out of it and scrambled for a glass. Her hands shook as she poured it, hurrying it to my lips.

Finally, cool liquid slid down my throat. It felt like heaven—just a damn glass of water. It was the first time in forever I felt like I wasn't dying.

I tried sitting up again. The maid was hovering like I might shatter at any moment. "I will help you, my lady," she said, her voice a mix of worry and professionalism.

I ignored her, scanning the room for any signs of what the hell was going on.

I looked at the maid again. She was staring at me, her eyes wide, like I'd sprouted a second head or, I don't know, had alien antennae or something.

Then, suddenly, it was like a lightbulb went off in her head. She gasped, wide-eyed. "I will inform the master that you woke up!" she said, before bolting out of the room as though she'd seen a ghost.

"Master?" I muttered to myself, furrowing my brow.

I sat there, completely dumbfounded. "What the hell? What is this, some kind of... royalty roleplay?" I thought, but the idea didn't sit right. I mean, I wasn't exactly dressed for a fairytale. And then, of course, that idiot maid was back. But this time, she wasn't alone. She was flanked by three men and two women, all of them dressed in outfits that screamed royalty.

I blinked at them. They blinked back at me. We all just stood there, staring.

Should I say hi?

Maybe they saved me, brought me here, and took me home. But something about them felt... off. They looked foreign.

Just as I was trying to make sense of it all, one of the two women, a middle-aged lady, rushed over to my side. Her face was filled with concern, her expression soft, almost motherly. She placed her hand gently over mine, her voice trembling with worry.

"Cecilia..." she whispered, her voice breaking through the fog in my mind. She looked at me like she'd been waiting for this moment, like everything depended on me waking up. "Sweetie, are you okay now?"

I blinked, still confused, trying to make sense of what was happening. "Maybe," I mumbled, my voice weak. It felt strange hearing someone speak to me like that—like they cared. I wasn't used to it.

Then, a man—probably around the same age as the woman—stood beside her. His presence was commanding, and he looked down at me with a calm, almost reassuring expression.

"Don't worry, darling. She's okay now," he said with a soft smile, as if everything was under control.

The woman nodded, clearly relieved. Maybe they were husband and wife, I thought. That made sense, considering how they acted.

But then, one of the men, the second one who had a handsome face and sharp features, stepped forward with a scowl on his face. His eyes locked onto me, and his annoyance practically radiated from his stance.

"Seriously?" he started, his voice dripping with irritation. "You stirred up the whole mansion, Cecilia. Do you know how much Mother and Father were worried? Seriously? When will you stop causing trouble?"

What the hell? This bastard was talking to me like we knew each other, but I had never seen him before in my life. Who the hell did he think he was?

Before I could snap back, the woman's husband, the one who had been trying to comfort me earlier, shot a glare at the annoying man. "Theodore," he barked, his voice sharp, "shut your mouth."

So, this guy's name was Theodore. Great. Another person who seemed to have an opinion about me, despite having no clue who I was.

But wait... hold on.

These names... they sounded way too familiar. From that novel I read ages ago because I was bored out of my mind. Just when it hit me, my stomach dropped.

No way, right?

I couldn't be in one of those fantasy novels, could I? I mean, those were just books—stories about women from the present time being transported into another woman's body in a totally different world. It wasn't real. It couldn't be.

But the more I thought about it, the more I felt like the world was mocking me. I was literally in it. The words "Cecilia," "Theodore," "people who look royal"—they were all part of that damn book I read once. The family. The mansion. The plot that I couldn't remember in full but knew it was a tragedy.

I was panicking. Literally panicking from the inside.

I felt my heart race, a cold sweat forming on my back. I had to know. I had to confirm this insanity. I turned back to the lady, my grip tightening on her hand. "Tell me my name," I demanded, the urgency in my voice obvious.

She looked at me, completely confused. "What?"

"My name... full name, please," I begged, my voice trembling now.

She stared at me, her eyes widening slightly, as if she didn't understand why I was asking such a simple question. But after a beat of hesitation, she finally spoke.

"It's... Cecilia Von Arlen."

I felt the words hit me like a freight train. Cecilia Von Arlen.

I was Cecilia. The character from that damn novel. The one who... died tragically in the middle of it. The one no one ever cared for.

DAMN IT!