ABFR 02

Chapter 2…

1. You and My World

You know how romance stories usually go, right? The fantasy guy falls for the protagonist and ends up following her all the way into the real world for a happy ending.

I know it sounds completely insane, but four years ago, I transmigrated into a book and fell in love like that. When that man actually showed up in reality, our story got its happy ending.

Having lived a harsh, brutal life, he said he fell in love with the calm, sweet, and gentle aura of a woman from a peaceful world. He said he wanted my stable way of living—that he wanted to stay by my side.

That was his reason for loving me. But now that he’s used to the peace of modern life, maybe someone like me is no different from a common pebble on the side of the road. Is what’s left between us loyalty, or is it love?

That story ended back then, but maybe our real romance hasn’t even begun yet. Without realizing it, I found myself entertaining thoughts like that.

I’ve always been the type of person who’s fine with whatever, whenever. More often than not, I just drifted along with other people’s opinions. But rather than self-sacrifice, consideration, or resignation, it was simply the choice of someone who truly didn’t care either way, so floating along felt totally fine.

If there were something I genuinely wanted, I’d speak up. My emotional threshold is pretty low—I snap quickly and cool off just as fast—so I definitely would have. Still, floating through life like duckweed, perfectly content regardless of how things turned out, was simply because I was just that kind of person.

Becoming a web novelist happened as an extension of that same mindset. I literally just stumbled into becoming a genre fiction writer. My college major was picked similarly, which naturally led to me haphazardly landing this job.

Back in middle and high school, I dabbled in writing, and luck landed me a publishing deal. I’d always enjoyed making up stories. It felt as if every tale I wrote was a real world existing out there somewhere. Otherwise, how could such unfamiliar worlds unfold before my eyes, so vividly alive?

That’s why I loved translating their stories into my world. No matter how much I expressed, I wanted to keep writing. Perhaps peering into stories so different from my own reality made me happy, believing those worlds truly existed somewhere out there.

Then one day, I actually experienced one of those worlds firsthand and came back. Discovering mind-blowing plot details in my story before I’d even thought of them made me realize something: maybe that world really was real, and by some chance, I was just sneaking a peek at its events to turn them into novels.

And then I woke up—staring at a blank document for a story I hadn’t even started.

Following my usual logic, I figured I’d simply “glimpsed” the story again, just like I always did. Before writing a novel, I would suddenly get hit with a flash of inspiration for the worldbuilding and characters. So, all I had to do was write it down; none of it was an actual fictional event.

That storybook romance was never my reality—it was just a product of my imagination for a novel.

Rayley had told me to wait for him, and I’d left a path open for him. But any sane person knows you shouldn’t treat a fleeting dream like a real, tangible thing.

Getting plot inspiration from dreams wasn’t a new thing for me anyway. I’d receive the foundational worldbuilding or plotline in a dream like a divine revelation, then wake up and systematically flesh out the characters to fill in the gaps. That was just my process.

Still, holding onto a tiny shred of lingering attachment, I kept my promise to him. Rayley had asked me to leave a path open for him to reach me, even if I ended up dating someone else in the meantime. I decided not to break my word after promising I’d at least make the effort to help him find his way to me.

I mean, aren’t there plenty of stories like that? The fantasy male lead who loves the female lead so much he follows her to the real world. I thought that if I had truly transmigrated into a novel, maybe I was allowed to hope for a fairytale ending like that.

Honestly, I just wanted an escape. Desperately clinging to something meant admitting I couldn’t live without it. If Rayley magically appeared in front of me, great, but I knew I’d suffer if I got my hopes up only for him to never show.

By the time six months had passed, quick as I always am to give up, I let go of all possibility. My memories with Rayley felt like a distant, fading dream. His face blurred in my mind until I couldn’t even picture it properly. That was when the confusion really set in: Had I just dreamt the whole thing, or had I actually woken up from a wild adventure in another world? At that point, the truth didn’t even matter anymore.

My luck in romance has always been unnecessarily good. Even when I didn’t want it, two or three guys would linger around every year before drifting away, so I picked an okay guy from the bunch and dated him for a bit. I figured if I fell for someone else, that “2D boyfriend” from my delusional dream would quickly fade from memory.

A new boyfriend to forget the ex—a phrase that already carries a dark, ominous ring to it. But humans are foolish creatures, often doing what they know is wrong. That was me.

To spoil the ending: it was a complete disaster. A predictable one, too.

Honestly, setting his personality aside, Rayley was a sweet, attentive, and devoted guy who had it all. The fact that he was missing the single most crucial trait was a problem, but with a face and body like his, paired with his insane skills and housework abilities, you could almost brainwash yourself into accepting a failing grade in personality. Consequently, finding a guy I liked more than Rayley was impossible, and it only took a few years to painfully remind myself that dating just wasn’t for me.

In the first place, I didn’t need anyone else in my life. I’d never believed in fleeting emotions like love anyway.

Like I said before, I’m usually a “whatever works” person, but tell me what to do, and my inner rebel instantly kicks in. Naturally, a romantic relationship placing all kinds of restrictions on me was never going to be fun.

I’d only forgotten that because of that bastard, Rayley Kraha. No matter how much I chewed on it, his personality was absolute trash, but I’d somehow brainwashed myself anyway.

The day of the incident—whether it was transmigration or a dream—happened when I was twenty-three. Up until then, my entire dating history consisted of a few high school boyfriends. Truthfully, I dated them because everyone else was doing it, not out of real feelings, so those relationships barely left a mark. Before, during, and after, we were just good friends. Since we never started with romantic feelings, we both actively avoided anything embarrassing, keeping things strangely platonic.

So, for a twenty-three-year-old with only that kind of dating experience, how intense was it to date a shameless, unhesitating romance novel character?

Back then, Rayley Kraha was a violent, self-centered wild beast. In short, he was a foul-tempered, dark-past-having lunatic who belonged strictly in fiction.

How I ended up entangled with a guy like that is beyond me, and honestly something I should reflect on. But no matter how much time passed after that day at twenty-three, I couldn’t forget that intense romance. That was why I hit upon the absurd idea that maybe an insanely intense new relationship could overwrite Rayley Kraha.

To be frank, I acted a bit wild in my relationships after that. I was an independent adult, so what was wrong with a little intense romance? Man, I met some real scum.

Whether the problem was their terrible personalities or my own mindset, none of those relationships felt right. In the end, after a cycle of meeting and breaking up over and over, I gave up on dating altogether by the time I turned twenty-five.

Fortunately, my sense of reality was somewhat restored around then, so the timing worked out well enough. It was also around that time that I decided to stop taking leaves of absence and actually stick to school. Before that, I’d taken breaks like it was a hobby, using language exams as an excuse, which was how I found myself starting my fifth semester at twenty-five.

An incredible college life where my age’s single digit matched my semester count. Having slacked off throughout my college years, I knew I’d have to delay graduation and take extra semesters even after pulling myself together, but at least I managed to resolve my wandering within limits a leave of absence could fix.

After pushing through for nearly two more years, I was finally able to write again. It took four whole years after my trip to another world to regain my sense of reality.

Regrettably, right after I finally pulled myself together, Rayley Kraha actually showed up right in front of me.

Thanks to that, I started thinking “it” might have actually been a form of transmigration rather than a dream or a stroke of plot inspiration. Either way, whether Rayley Kraha actually stood in front of me or not didn’t even matter at that point.

He just showed up, and I just took him in. Because that’s what I’d decided, and because part of me was still in love with him. Honestly, why I was obsessing over something so simple is beyond me.

Rayley Kraha fell for the calm, easygoing nature of a modern human—the effortless composure that comes only from living a lifetime in safety. So even though he chased me all the way to my world, he no longer had a specific reason to love me. I wanted to be okay even if he left tomorrow. I knew that otherwise, I’d be the only one spiraling and hurting.

Which led us right into this awkward, ambiguous relationship.

Rolling over on the massive bed, I sat up with messy hair and stared blankly at the back of Rayley Kraha’s head as he operated four computers at once. I live in my own rented room, while Rayley Kraha got himself a spacious, luxurious penthouse. The crazy guy managed to buy a home right in central Yongsan despite being from another dimension.

I have no idea how he forged his identity and secured seed money right after crossing over, but he was originally a apocalyptic villain who once held the continent’s fate in his hands. Now, he analyzes global affairs, manipulates financial markets, and earns unimaginable sums of income. I can’t help but think that absolute scum really do have a unique gift for making money.

After retiring from his villain gig as the “Crow of Mrau,” he worked as a butler. Lately, he’s been running an ultra-luxurious dessert shop as a “hobby.” To be precise… he’s just using his hobby to mess with me. He does run the place in his own way, but he couldn’t leave his terrible personality at the door, so he manages it like trash.

He only opens when he feels like it, completely ignoring business hours whenever he doesn’t. Whenever he comes up with a new dessert to feed me, he heads downstairs, whips up test batches, and posts them on social media. Thanks to a fit, handsome patissier whose skills clearly surpass modern standards, the shop quickly went viral. Naturally, the test batches sell out the same day. After that, he shoves the absolute best piece down my throat. Receiving his suspicious gifts via special delivery right in front of my classmates—gifts I never even asked for—was a regular occurrence.

Honestly, I’m being raised on food rewards like a pet.

So what’s so ambiguous about this relationship? I know everyone listening is wondering. It’s actually pretty simple.

Question one: Do I still love Rayley Kraha? Honestly, I don’t know.

Question two: Does Rayley Kraha still love me? I’d need to answer this with certainty to believe there’s a future for us, but I just can’t.

If nothing else, since we reunited six months ago at twenty-seven, Rayley Kraha hasn’t touched me like a lover even once. Mind you, before all this, he was the guy who pushed boundaries and did everything before we were even officially dating. So as a human being, I can’t help but feel a bit subtle about it.

He saw my real face for the first time six months ago on the day we reunited. Meeting me in person must have been vastly different from what he pictured. The body I possessed, Yuri Yelechenika, was one of the top beauties on the continent. My real face doesn’t even deserve to be compared to her appearance.

Or maybe he realized that my messy, chaotic life—which he used to view as a “special quality”—is actually nothing impressive and just plain pathetic from a modern perspective.

Either way, the real me probably pales in comparison to the version of me in that world.

As for his possessiveness, that wild beast has always been obsessed with anything he claims as his own, so that hasn’t really changed. From his perspective, I’m already in his grip, so sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with another guy is probably off-limits in his book. Thinking about it again, he really is a bastard.

Anyway, yeah. A lot has changed compared to before.

Does Rayley Kraha still love me? Is what exists between us actual love? Tugging up my oversized t-shirt as it slipped off my shoulder, I stared at Rayley Kraha’s back and pondered it again. This is… well, how should I put it…

“Like a 10-year married couple going through a routine rut?”

“Waking up dazed only to utter nonsense the moment you open your mouth. What would you like for breakfast?”

“Strawberries.”

“And for your grains?”

“Whatever.”

“Shall I mix strawberries into your rice, then?”

“Let’s stick to toast and strawberries, Butler. I mean, come on, did you seriously think I asked for strawberries mixed in rice?”

Gently pushing his chair back from the computer screens he’d been monitoring, Rayley turned to face me, narrowing his eyes as he tapped his left cheek twice. Staring back at him, I absentmindedly rubbed my right cheek.

“Other side.”

“Ah.”

Only after he pointed it out did I rub my left cheek properly, feeling the deep crease my pillow had left behind. In the past, he would have touched my cheek himself right away, but now he just watched me rub my face before standing up. Looks like he was going to prepare breakfast.

Still sitting on the bed in a daze, I flopped right back down. He still acts like he’s looking after my life whenever we’re together, but strictly speaking, I can’t really call him a butler anymore.

Does love even have to be a requirement?

Rayley was never meant for love in the first place, and neither was I, so living like this isn’t half bad. But after burying my face in the pillow, rubbing against it, and reflecting on the four years I spent lost in overwhelming, uncontrollable affection for Rayley Kraha… I gave it another serious thought. Hmm, I still don’t know.

If Rayley Kraha doesn’t love me anymore, what’s the point of me holding onto these bittersweet feelings for him? And what am I supposed to trust to maintain this near-divorce, old-married-couple dynamic that could end at any moment? Wouldn’t it be better to just wrap things up neatly at a reasonable line?

Honestly, maybe I still have lingering feelings. But to think about trapping him through marriage or something… I don’t have the slightest interest in marriage myself. In fact, I downright hate the idea.

So really, despite dwelling on it for so long, I haven’t put anything into practice, nor do I plan to. It’s just a meaningless worry.

That’s basically how we ended up in this ambiguous relationship.