Chapter 1: I Hate My Second Life

Roxana’s Past – The Start

At first, I didn’t know that I had been reincarnated as a character in a novel. 

I remembered my past life, I had been a senior college student walking home after another exhausting night at the library. I was still thinking about my thesis as I walked one step at a time through a blizzard. It was just my bad luck that a car skidded off the road and struck me.

I became someone else when I woke up. 

It wasn’t too horrible at the start. 

“It’s a girl this time. What a pleasant surprise.” Warmth and tenderness radiated from my mother.I instantly felt adored in her arms as her new baby. Her remark also got me to thinking—apparently, I had at least one older brother in my new family. 

Realizing that I had passed away and would have to live another life again was obviously devastating, but I quickly came to terms with it.

What else could I do? No matter how much I missed my old life, it was already over and there was no turning back. I was brought up in Korea as a realistic child, not a softie. 

My new mother was a lovely woman with Eurasian features. Her beautiful blue eyes reminded me of a deep lake, and her thick, blond hair fell lightly over her shoulders like dazzling gold. She resembled a princess from a fairy tale. 

Wow, I thought. My father must be thrilled to be married to someone so beautiful. Throughout my childhood, I could picture myself gazing in awe at her face. 

Was my entire family equally as lovely? I became even more eager to meet my prospective older siblings.

My mother was told by a man, “So this is the child.” “She reminds me of you.”

It turned out that, in an unexpected way, my father was even more attractive than my mother. His attractive features hadn’t first piqued my interest for some reason. I cast a solemn look at the face hidden by the black hair. He stood at ease in this dark chamber, yet seemed to radiate a deadly air.

My mother gently said, “Her eyes make me think of you.”

I was now anticipating catching a glimpse of my reflection. Both of my parents were very attractive. It would only make sense that I would be beautiful as well. 

“Roxana.” My father spoke with a powerful, deep voice. “Roxana will be her name.” He left the room after giving my birth name. 

I quickly understood his personality. He was used to being obeyed. When my father looked down at me in my mother’s arms, he saw me as an insignnificant being. I was barely acknowledged as his daughter.

“Roxana. “My lovely baby,” my mother said with a sad smile. She didn’t appear startled by how my father was acting. “Please grow up into a strong and wonderful Agriche.”

When I discovered that my last name was Agriche, I felt dread.

Agriche…

The name seemed familiar. 

It was clear that the name was foreign. Now where was I? Although my parents hadn’t been using Korean or English, I somehow managed to understand them. That was one blessing I had been granted following my reincarnation.

I soon found it difficult to avoid dozing off. Babies sleep a lot, therefore the feeling of exhaustion I experienced was not a dream. My mother lovingly massaged my back as I curled my arms around her neck.

Agriche. That name stayed in my mind.

I was in a terrible situation if this was associated with the same Agriche family that I had read about. Reincarnating into a fantasy world was insane, but even if I did, there was nothing I could do to stop it at this point.

I didn’t have just one brother. 

Polygamy was accepted in this world. My father had five kids in all when I was born, including me. One son was born to his senior wife, his first wife. My mother was his fourth wife and had given birth to me and my older brother, Asil.

“Sana, my adorable younger sister.” Asil had reassured me in a whisper, “I’ll protect you.”

In contrast to me, who had a combination of my mother’s blond hair and my father’s red eyes, Asil was an exact replica of my mother in masculine form.

He had a sweet laugh that tinkled like a bell when he was enthusiastic and was a timid beauty who was too innocent to come from such a terrible family. He would appreciate being with me even if all I did was breathe when I was still young enough to sleep in a cradle. In retrospect, it still strikes me as ridiculous to imagine a four-year-old boy wanting to be responsible. Asil, who has always been kind-hearted, accepted the role of my protective older brother seriously.

I started to adjust to my new, miserable life with Asil’s help.

The Agriche family was unique. We were the mafia of this world: criminals that stole, scammed, threatened, and organized mercenaries for hire. We traded drugs and poisons in the black market. Killing was not beneath them.

The scale of our operations did not go unnoticed by the rest of the kingdom, yet we met minimal opposition. I was astounded that we still presented ourselves as a legitimate noble family. All children bearing the name Agriche were forced to lead this immoral lifestyle and received early instruction in it.

I had trouble accepting the values of my new family as a modern Korean. Rote memorization was easy for me, but when it came to using weapons, consuming drugs and poisons to understand their effects or develp my immunity, learning how to approach people confidently or by stealth… I often struggled when I practiced these skills and did not like any of the subjects. 

You don’t succeed in life without hardwork, I would tell myself. 

My father appeared before me again on my eighth birthday. 

My father, Lant Agriche.

Would he be best described by Darwinism? He allowed our family to expand to the point that I now had ten more siblings and seven mothers. He wouldn’t have had the time to take care of us all, even if he had been a good parent. According to him, only children who were valuable to the family should receive his attention; all other members of the family were neglected. Thus far, I had only seen him eight times over the entire course of my life.

He had said to me, “From the start, I did not think you were a capable child.”

Ah, Had I really once believed that I was lucky to be a part of this family?

I wanted to respond, but I refrained out of respect for my mother and Asil. They were both standing next to me. My mother was particularly tense.

My father took another calm look at my face and then continued. “But I’ve had a change of heart. It is time I specialize your education.” He began to speak more about his expectations in detail.

The Art of Seduction.

This crazy bastard. I could see how he got the idea. I was gorgeous since I inherited my mother’s good looks. I was really stunning. Did it mean he should talk to me about sex and seduction tactics when I was just eight years old? [email protected]*!

This family was revolting. In the end, I needed to know how to seduce a man in order to kill him or discover his secrets.I had to learn beautifying myself for a guy’s attention, learn how to please a man at night, and learn the value of ambiance and conversation for foreplay when I was a young girl.

“I don’t want to learn any of this, mother. Why am I required to study these topics?” I said.

She cautioned me, “Sana, you mustn’t say it.” “May God bless you for being a lovely Agriche. In order to live up to your name, you must learn properly.

My mother’s voice had sounded a little desperate at the time. She had firmly gripped my shoulders. I could not stand to argue in front of her pitiful and dejected eyes.

It was unthinkable to defy the patriarchal dictates of my father during this time of feudalism. Even though it was wrong and horrible, I eventually conceded that I couldn’t defy his wishes. My heart, however, didn’t seem to agree with the principles my teachers had taught me. Compared to my siblings, my educational advancement was abhorrent. I worked hard and took my time to learn.

In the meantime, people started calling my adorable brother Asil “garbage.”

When I was eleven years old, it occurred…..