[Survival System Notification: Daily Task 2: Kiss one of the richest men in the Kingdom of Dostifas. Time remaining: three hours.]
Arona heard the voice echo in her mind as her gaze fixed on the green screen hovering in front of her. Yes, it was true—this strange, fantastical world where she had awoken in someone else's body. A body belonging to a girl called Roulan.
This place was nothing like Earth—it was a realm straight out of a fantasy tale, teeming with magical creatures, mythical beasts, and bizarre, unthinkable occurrences.
Every time a flashback from her previous life made her shiver, that the fatal car accident on a New York highway. She had been rushing to a job interview, her mind fixated on making it in time. She was certain her heart had stopped beating and her life had ended before she'd ever had the chance to fall in love. She was the kind of person hopelessly obsessed with romance stories and the dream of meeting her Prince Charming. Yet, when she opened her eyes, she found herself in this strange, otherworldly existence.
Roulan blinked several times, staring at the system notification. Was her life now nothing more than a child's damn game? Her surroundings came into focus: nobles and elites strolling around, flaunting their wealth and status within a palace so extravagant it looked as though every inch had been encrusted with gemstones. This was a royal ball, held in honor of King Rick XI of the Kingdom of Dostifas, the kingdom of the most mystery.
The dazzling lights, the mesmerizing music—everything about the scene felt surreal. Roulan swallowed hard. If she failed to complete the task, the system would punish her, just as it had the last time. She couldn't endure that agony again.
"If fulfilling these tasks means staying alive, then so be it," she thought. "I don't care who I have to kiss. Wait—what am I thinking? This is insane!" The pain in her body reminded her of the stakes. Now she had no choice.
Letting out a resigned sigh, Roulan's body slumped in defeat—only to collide with a muscular, rock-solid chest.
"Watch where you're going, you idiot!"
The harsh voice snapped her back to reality. Roulan glanced up to meet the glare of a towering, broad-shouldered man who had yet to look directly at her in hatred.
"Oh, it's you," he sneered, his disdain clear. "The worthless girl without magic powers. Why are you even here? Your presence at an event like this is an insult to all the mages of our great kingdom."
Roulan stepped back instinctively, his words cutting deep. It was true—she was believed to be devoid of magic. Or at least, that was what everyone thought.
Before she could reply, an elderly woman approached and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Remember, she is one of the king's honored guests," the woman admonished the man. "Do not forget yourself, Commander, "
The burly man bit his lip, forced to bow respectfully to the elderly lady. But as he turned to leave, he shot Roulan a parting glare. "We'll meet again, hybrid. Pray that you're lucky enough to avoid my wrath when that happens."
Roulan didn't bother responding to his threat. Her focus was on the task ahead. She scanned the grand hall, her heart racing. She had less than three hours to find someone to kiss and escape the system's punishment.
"Alright, Arona," she thought to herself, adopting a determined expression. "It's just one kiss. You don't need to find some tall, with dark playful character, just handsome prince—someone who'll set the world on fire for you. Fuck pick anyone. Hurry!"
She brushed past the elderly woman without so much as a word of thanks, her urgency overriding social decorum. The older woman, however, seemed unbothered, as if she understood Roulan's silent turmoil.
"Look at her—Duke Flack's daughter," one woman whispered disdainfully. "I heard her father died from the shame of having a powerless daughter. Pathetic."
"Well, that's what happens when a powerful mage like Duke Flack marries a vampire," another added mockingly. "The result? A cursed hybrid like her."
Roulan ignored their scornful remarks. All that mattered was completing the task. The sharp, lingering pain in her body—a constant reminder of her failure in the system's first task—was enough to keep her focused.
She wandered onto a vast balcony overlooking the most beautiful gardens in the kingdom. From this height, the sky seemed clearer, more radiant. Her eyes landed on a figure standing near the railing—a broad-shouldered man whose posture exuded power. Even from behind, there was something magnetic about him. For reasons she couldn't explain, her instincts screamed that he was the one.
Her heart raced as she approached. Standing before him, she hesitated for only a moment before grabbing the collar of his shirt. She planned to make the kiss quick and fleeting, then vanish like Cinderella before midnight.
"No one will find me after this," she thought, closing her eyes tightly to avoid memorizing his features. She didn't want to remember the face of the man who would share her first kiss.
But as her lips neared his, he caught her wrist, halting her in her tracks.
"Hold on, miss," he said, his tone sharp with irritation. "I'm not your Prince Charming. Are you drunk?"
His words broke her trance. Roulan froze, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I…I…"
She stammered, mortified by her boldness. Her gaze darted around nervously, seeking an escape from the awkward situation.
"Are you even a noble?" she blurted out, desperate to salvage her plan.
The man raised an eyebrow, his patience clearly thinning. "No. I'm Sir Alexander's attendant—a simple knight with a modest salary. And no, I'm not one of the wealthy men you're so obviously scheming to seduce."
Roulan's heart sank. "He's useless to me, then I'll go find another man," she muttered under her breath, loud enough for him to hear.
The blond knight stared at her in stunned disbelief.