Bab 2: Dream

"How could you do this to me?!"

A voice rips through the air, practically shaking the polished floor beneath me. I blink, half-disoriented, and find myself face-to-face with a man who looks like he stepped off a magazine cover. Tall, with that impossibly perfect blend of Asian and European features, he has these smoldering blue eyes and matching blond hair, like he's walked straight out of my wildest fever dream. Genetic lottery winner right here, folks. I just stare, half in awe, half in confusion. Is this a dream? Because last I checked, no guy this stunning was yelling at me about… well, anything.

"We've been together for six years. Don't throw it all away," he pleads, looking at me like I'm some heartless villain in his tragic romance. Huh. Six years, he says? Now that is news to me. But I say nothing, merely sipping from the glass of water in front of me and glancing down at my nails. They're this gorgeous ocean blue, and my first thought is: wow, whoever did these deserves a raise. I don't remember the last time my nails looked this good. Dream me has excellent taste.

"You'll regret this," Blondie suddenly growls, and his entire vibe changes in an instant, the pleading puppy look giving way to something darker, angrier. I stare back, slightly shocked. Bipolar much? Five seconds ago, he was begging me to stay, and now he's looking like he's ready to tear something apart.

Quickly, I scan the restaurant, noting that it's open, elegant, and full of people. That's comforting, at least. If this man snaps and decides to go full rage-monster, I'm pretty sure security won't let it slide. Besides, if he lays a single finger on me, I'll sue him for every penny he's worth.

"I don't think I'll regret anything, actually," I say with all the confidence of someone who doesn't know what's happening but is absolutely ready to roll with it. He glowers at me one last time, then stands up and storms out of the restaurant in a dramatic exit worthy of an Oscar.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. That was… intense. But hey, what a ride, right? I glance around at the table and notice a fancy purse sitting beside me, which I can only assume is mine. I grab it, mostly out of curiosity, and get up to leave. I figure the next logical step in this dream is to walk out of here like I own the place.

"Miss," a deep voice calls, just as I'm about to step out. I turn to find a man in a sleek black suit standing by the door, looking at me with the utmost respect.

Interesting. I nod, deciding to just roll with it, and follow him outside. He leads me to this car—a luxury sedan so polished it practically gleams in the sunlight. When he opens the door for me, I slide in without hesitation. I mean, who am I to question high-class treatment?

It's been a week, and something is definitely wrong. I stand in front of the large, ornate bedroom mirror, my reflection staring back at me with a mix of disbelief and annoyance. Sure, at first, I reveled in the luxury surrounding me—the silken sheets, the extravagant furnishings, the gourmet meals delivered like clockwork. But now? Now it feels like I've unwittingly signed up for an extreme vacation in a hunter dungeon world, and let me tell you, that's not on my bucket list.

I lean in closer to the mirror, frowning at the strange holographic display hovering above my reflection.

[Emmaline Morne

Rank: C]

A system? Are you kidding me? I run my fingers through my hair in sheer frustration.

"Excuse me, all-powerful God of Reincarnation or whatever you are," I mutter, glaring at the mirror like it personally betrayed me.

"Why couldn't I have landed in a cute slice-of-life manhwa? You know, with fluffy clouds and childhood friends, father - daughter or something? What the hell am I supposed to do in a place like this?!"

Panic bubbles in my chest. I'm meant to have a peaceful, luxurious life, not one filled with monsters, dungeons, and whatever dangerous quests this world entails. I pace the room, my mind racing through possibilities. Am I in a coma? Did I hit my head too hard in the real world?

Taking a deep breath, I try to center myself. "Okay, Emmaline, deep breaths. You're not going to let a fictional world run your life," I tell myself, but the sinking feeling in my stomach persists.

As I glance out the window, the sun is shining, birds are chirping, and I am not feeling any of it. I've had enough of this nonsense. I need to break free from this ridiculous situation, and there's one solution that stands out in my mind: a dramatic exit.

With a mischievous grin, I head for the grand staircase. I'm going to make this a performance. As I reach the top, I purposely trip, feeling the delightful rush of adrenaline as I tumble down the stairs, two floors high.

"Woohoo!" I shout as I hit the floor with a thud, landing in a heap. Everything goes black for a moment, but it's worth it for the absurdity of it all. I can almost hear the dramatic music playing in the background.

Maybe I'll wake up back in my old life, sipping tea and scrolling through manhwa.