The morning sun streamed through the window, illuminating the small, dusty room.
Rina sat cross-legged on the bed, a faint scowl etched on her face. Her determination from the previous night still burned, but the reality of her situation had quickly begun to settle in.
Her stomach growled loudly, breaking the silence.
She sighed, glaring at the noise as if it were an insult. "Alright, fine. Food first. I can't think on an empty stomach."
Sliding off the bed, she moved toward the battered desk in the corner.
Stacked haphazardly on its surface were books and papers she hadn't yet dared to touch.
Among them was a small wallet. Opening it, she found a few crumpled bills and coins.
"Pathetic," she muttered, holding the money between her fingers. "How do people survive with this little?"
Still, it was better than nothing. She tucked the money into her pocket and cautiously made her way downstairs.
The house was eerily silent.
The faint smell of dust and mildew lingered in the air, and the creaky wooden floors groaned under her steps.
It wasn't a mansion filled with riches, like what she was used to, but it would have to do.
As she opened the front door, the world outside hit her like a gale.
Bright metal beasts whizzed past on the streets—cars, she recalled from Rina's fragmented memories.
People rushed by with purpose, holding glowing rectangles or sipping drinks from strange cups.
The sheer chaos of it all was overwhelming.
Rina stood frozen on the doorstep, her eyes wide as she took it all in.
"What is this madness? How does anyone live like this?"
But there was no time to wallow. Her stomach growled again, louder this time, pushing her forward.
She wandered down the street, trying to stay out of the way of the crowd.
Every store she passed seemed alien, with signs in a language she could only barely understand thanks to her new memories.
Finally, she found a modest corner shop. The faint aroma of bread and coffee drew her in.
The cashier—a young man about her age—looked up from behind the counter as she entered.
His black-rimmed glasses perched precariously on his nose, and his bored expression barely shifted.
"Welcome," he said lazily, not bothering to look up again.
Rina frowned. "That's it? No effort to sell me your finest wares? No pitch to entice me?"
The boy blinked at her, visibly confused. "Uh… what?"
"Never mind," she muttered, waving him off.
She grabbed a loaf of bread from a nearby shelf and a carton of milk from a fridge that hummed suspiciously.
She placed her items on the counter, glancing at the cashier. "How much?"
He raised an eyebrow, scanning the items. "Five thousand won."
Rina's jaw tightened as she handed over the crumpled bills.
She made a mental note to learn more about the value of this world's currency. She hated being ignorant about money.
As she turned to leave, a voice called out behind her.
"You're new here, huh?"
She froze and turned back to the cashier. "What makes you say that?"
He shrugged, adjusting his glasses. "You just seem… out of place. Like you've never been in a convenience store before."
Rina smirked, a spark of her old self shining through. "Maybe I'm just not impressed by what I've seen so far."
The boy chuckled, his boredom replaced by curiosity. "Fair enough. I'm Jihoon, by the way."
"Rina," she replied curtly, tucking the bread under her arm.
"Well, Rina, good luck. You're gonna need it around here."
She narrowed her eyes at him, not sure if it was meant as encouragement or a challenge.
Either way, she wasn't about to let a random cashier underestimate her.
With her meager groceries in hand, she stepped back onto the bustling street.
The world still felt chaotic, but for the first time, Rina felt a flicker of something else—a spark of determination to conquer it, just as she had conquered everything else in her life.
As she walked home, she couldn't shake the thought of Jihoon's casual remark.
"Good luck," she muttered to herself, a sly grin forming on her lips.
"I don't need luck. I'm Kara Ilvion. And soon, this world will see exactly what that means."