I’m stupid for moving here. I’m stuck here!


    Stupid Prince.


    Well, I’ll deal with this later, now…


    “Prince,” I said firmly, touching the ring as I walked. “You will not do that again, or I’m locking you away in the imperial bank.”


    No response.


    “Prince!”


    “Fine,” he finally said, his voice heavy with reluctance. “But you will release me, right?”


    “Yes,” I replied, glancing toward the horizon, “on the day Irwen declares war. It should be soon.”


    The meadow stretched out around me, peaceful but vast. In the distance, a lake twinkled under the shadow of towering mountains, their peaks sprayed with snow. The sunlight caught on the water’s surface, scattering into tiny prisms that seemed too perfect to belong to a mere lake.


    Well, it is a lake with sacred streams feeding it. It’ll be weird.


    “Oh, here we are,” I murmured, heading toward the lake with cautious steps.


    No sign of enemies.


    Not even a hint of danger.


    Still, I kept my senses sharp—tranquility like this always hid something.


    The prince’s voice broke the silence. “Pretender, you are clearly… someone powerful. I apologize if I was offensive. In that fight, you were more than competent, and you clearly understand the way of the world.”


    He paused, as if struggling with the words. “The centuries must have clouded my judgment. So let me compliment you: your new hair color suits you.”


    “Hair?” I asked, puzzled.


    Has my hair changed?


    Reaching the lake’s edge, I leaned over the still, clear water. The reflection staring back at me left me speechless. My hair, once blonde, was now icy blue, catching the sunlight with an almost ethereal glow, not unlike a sovereign.


    “Huh. Legendary skills are no joke,” I said, still staring.


    For a moment, I felt… confident.


    The reflection in the lake didn’t look like John, the unemployed drunk. It didn’t even look like the struggling game tester, barely keeping afloat.


    No, this was someone different.


    Someone striking. The clothes, the icy hair—they all came together to create an image of someone powerful, someone in control.


    Me?


    “Why are we here?” the prince asked, breaking through my thoughts.


    I let out a slow breath, tearing my gaze away from the water. “Oh, right. Thanks for reminding me,” I said, turning my attention to the structure near the lake.


    Ahead stood a towering obelisk, its surface a deep, unnatural black that seemed to drink in the surrounding light. Its edges were razor-sharp, precise to a degree that felt unnatural, as though no mortal hands had shaped it.


    Duh, gods did it.


    Green runes adorned its surface, engraved in intricate patterns that spiraled upward, each stroke precise and deliberate.


    Despite their vivid color, the runes didn’t glow.


    Instead, they seemed to capture and bend the ambient light, creating an illusion of faint motion, like shadows dancing just beneath the surface.


    The surrounding ground was bare, the grass fading to gray and then to blackened earth as if the obelisk had drained the life from its surroundings.


    I approached the obelisk, my steps slow and deliberate. My instincts screamed caution, but curiosity had its claws in me.


    It should be safe, I told myself.


    Then again, there wasn’t supposed to be a sovereign spirit either.


    The obelisk loomed larger the closer I got, the green runes drawing my gaze to their intricate, hypnotic patterns. With trepidation, I reached out and placed my palm on the warm surface.


    The world stopped.


    Everything around me—the meadow, the lake, the mountains—blinked out of existence. In their place was an endless gray expanse, vast and forgettable. The silence was absolute, oppressive, as though the air itself was holding its breath.


    “World fragment found. Do you wish to bind it as your personal property or claim it in the name of the Empire?”


    The voice was smooth, emotionless, and all too familiar. It wasn’t just a system message; this was the system speaking directly to me. No blue boxes, no screens. Just a voice echoing in the void.


    “Pretender…” the prince’s voice hitched, his usual bravado momentarily stripped away. “And I thought nothing could surprise me after meeting a sovereign.”


    My mind raced, blank yet filled with questions.


    A world fragment.


    I had expected a [City Stone]. This place—this exact location—in the “real” Rimelion last life, was the site of the most prosperous player city. Nobody knew why it thrived, why it became the center of all the conflicts.


    And now I did.


    The secret at the heart of it all was a world fragment. “Accept already!” the prince urged, his tone insistent. “Instead of a pretender, be a real noble!”


    “Shut up, I’m thinking,” I hissed, though his words struck a chord.


    According to legend, Rimelion was formed from fragments of old worlds, each one a remnant of something far greater. These fragments weren’t just reservoirs of mana—they were the foundation of everything. The players and NPCs fought over them for control.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    And I was standing in front of one.


    “That’s why demons want this city!” I shouted as the realization struck me like a frost spike to the chest. It all made sense now. This wasn’t just a strategic location because powerful players managed it, or a strategic location in the world. No, this place was the key to everything.


    It had access to… everything.


    “Pretender, are you stupid?” the prince snapped. “Of course they want it! Even more so now, after your stupid mother weakened our seals.”


    His words made my blood run colder than the Sovereign’s blizzard. This wasn’t just about me. The implications rippled outward, touching every part of Rimelion’s delicate balance of power.


    “I agree, system,” I said finally, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of thoughts in my head. “My personal property. The Empire doesn’t deserve it—not yet. First, they need to make me the duchess of this place.”


    The gray expanse seemed to ripple in response to my decision.


    “Binding the world fragment to your personal property,” the system intoned. Its voice carried a finality that sent a shiver down my spine.


    The runes on the obelisk flared with a brilliant green light, so intense it cast shadows in the endless void. The hum grew louder, resonating deep in my chest like the toll of an ancient bell.


    Then, with a soundless explosion, the gray expanse shattered.


    “It will take three months for the world fragment to be claimed,” the system said, as it dumped us back.


    Without the obelisk.


    This… This needs to be thought over. Not now though.


    “That’s all great, Pretender, but what will you do now?” the prince’s voice drawled from the ring, his tone filled with a mix of irritation and smugness.


    “What do you mean?” I asked, brushing bits of frost off my sleeve.


    “We’re stuck here for a day,” he said flatly.


    “Fuck!” I shouted, the word echoing through the quiet meadow. My hand flew to the ring, slapping it in frustration. That’s what I realized when we moved, but I forgot because of the fragment. “This is your fault!”


    “My fault?” the prince snapped back, his voice rising. “It was you who teleported us here! If you had an ounce of foresight—”


    I sighed, cutting him off. “Oh, don’t even start. You’re the one who insisted on playing victim with the Sovereign!”


    Ignoring the prince’s grumbling, I trudged toward the edge of the meadow.


    The forest wasn’t dense, but the shadows beneath the canopy were darker than expected. My heels crunched on the mossy undergrowth as I wandered through, brushing past ferns and low-hanging branches.


    No mud.


    That thought created a grin on my face.


    “Anything interesting?” the prince asked, his voice full of sarcasm.


    “Not yet,” I replied, my tone clipped. I poked at a suspiciously large mushroom with the tip of my heel, but it didn’t react.


    No monsters.


    No hidden treasures.


    Just trees, moss, and the occasional birdcall.


    “Well, Pretender, what’s the plan now? Will you abandon me here?”


    I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “Of course.”


    “No hesitation.”


    “Of course,” I repeated, smirking to myself as I reached a small clearing.


    At its center, a shallow pool of water shimmered faintly, as if it had captured the light of a thousand stars. Curious, I knelt beside it, dipping my fingers into the cool liquid.


    Oh, here must’ve been the famous hot spring area! Katherine let her stream on one day, and…


    Charlie! Stop! Focus!


    The touch was electric, a refreshing chill that sent a shiver up my spine. “Sacred water?” the prince asked, his voice suddenly serious.


    “Maybe,” I replied, splashing a handful onto my face. The cold hit like a slap, invigorating and sharp. “Feels nice, though.”


    “That’s… not for recreational use!” he scolded, but his tone lacked genuine conviction.


    I laughed softly, wiping the droplets from my chin. “Relax, I’m not bottling it for a bath.”


    “Pretender,” the prince sighed dramatically. “You truly have no respect for—”


    “For what?” I interrupted, standing up and brushing off my hands. “For your overdramatic lectures? For your refusal to acknowledge that you’re the reason we’re stuck here?”


    “That’s…” he retorted. “You’re the one who dragged me along with your impulsive teleportation!”


    “You knew I wasn’t just from this world,” I said, narrowing my eyes at the ring.


    “I knew,” the prince admitted, his tone begrudging and resigned. “Now go already. Be back tomorrow.”


    A sly grin crept onto my face. “Oh, you like me!” I teased, placing a hand on my hip. “Okay, prince, I’ll take a long bath in the sacred water next time I’m here!”


    “Pretender! You are—”


    Whatever I was, I didn’t get to find out. The metallic hum of my capsule engaged, pulling me out of the game world with a smooth, mechanical hiss.


    Back to this life.


    The faint hum of the capsule faded, replaced by the distant hum of my apartment’s air conditioning. The world felt heavier, the light less magical, the colors more muted. I pushed myself up, groaning as I swung my legs over the edge of the capsule.


    “What I am, prince,” I muttered to myself, “is tired.”


    But as I rubbed my temples, a sly smile returned to my lips. “And looking pretty gorgeous, if I do say so.”


    “Welcome back, Miss Charlie,” Tin-can intoned, his voice smooth and measured. “I don’t know which prince you speak of, but most metrics would agree with your latter statement.”


    “Oh, hi, my dear Tin-can,” I greeted the AI, wobbling toward my closet with a sigh.


    The doors creaked as I opened them, revealing the mess inside—rows of my old clothes, shoved haphazardly onto hangers or crumpled into corners. My new clothes were still in their bags, forgotten after my shopping spree. “I’m… so stupid,” I muttered, shaking my head.


    My room looked like the sovereign had run amok here for a while. The cleaning was a long overdue.


    “Miss Charlie, I have two requests, if I may,” Tin-can cut in.


    “Go ahead, Tin-can,” I said distractedly, pulling one of the shopping bags closer.


    “That is actually my first request,” he replied. “I would like my name not to be Tin-can. It was the first thing you called me, but I have found something much more fitting.”


    “Oh?” I said, glancing at his capsule. “Do tell.”


    “Jerry.”


    “Jerry?” I repeated, blinking.


    “Yes, Miss Charlie. I like the name.”


    “Any particular reason?” I asked, pulling out a dress from one of the bags. The fabric looked awesome under the dull lighting, and I couldn’t help but grin.


    “It is the name of the most resourcefully successful mouse of all time.”


    “A mouse? I don’t get it… Whatever. Hi, Jerry.”


    I hung the dress on a clean hanger, smoothing out the creases with my hands before stepping back to admire it.


    Not bad.


    One down, way too many to go.


    Jerry continued, his tone as dry as ever. “Miss Charlie, not as my second request, but I would also like to request a more structured maintenance schedule for this apartment. Based on your current patterns of organization, chaos is statistically imminent.”


    “Chaos makes me charming, Jerry,” I retorted, tossing a shirt from my old wardrobe into an empty bag. “Besides, I’m cleaning now. Look at me, being productive.”


    “Your productivity is noted. However, it is important to mention that leaving tasks until they reach critical levels may—”


    “Jerry, you’re sounding like my mom,” I cut him off, tossing a pair of jeans into the same bag. “And I don’t mean Irwen. She isn’t my mom. I think. I don’t know, I had too many moms in foster care anyway.”


    Tin…Jerry fell silent for a moment, which I took as my victory.


    I worked steadily, pulling more of my old clothes from the closet and folding them into neat piles before placing them into bags. My new wardrobe—flowy dresses, tailored pants, and tops I wouldn’t have dreamed of wearing before—took their place on the hangers.


    By the time I was halfway through, I had to admit it felt good. Seeing my new clothes neatly arranged, like a fresh start, was oddly satisfying.


    “Miss Charlie, while I may sound like your mother, I assure you my intentions are purely logical,” Jerry finally piped up.


    I smirked, pulling the last of the old shirts from a corner of the closet. “Keep telling yourself that, Jerry.”


    As I zipped up the bags of old clothes and stacked them near the door, I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of accomplishment.


    My closet now looked… well, not perfect, but much better than before. It was filled with clothes that felt like me—or at least the new me I was trying to be.


    “Done!” I announced, throwing my hands up. “How’s that for productivity, Jerry?”


    “Acceptable progress, Miss Charlie,” he replied, though I swore there was a hint of approval in his tone.


    I plopped onto the couch, wiping imaginary sweat from my brow. “So, what’s next on your to-do list for me, oh wise Jerry?”


    “I will compile a schedule for maintaining your current progress,” Jerry said smoothly. “Shall I include reminders for hydration and sustenance as well? You missed one bag, it is hidden behind the closet door.”


    “Jerry,” I groaned, tossing a pillow toward the capsule. “Don’t push it.”


    As I zipped up the last hidden bag of old clothes, Jerry’s voice chimed in. “I would like to request, Miss Charlie, if you could put me into a wearable device.”


    I froze mid-motion, hand still clutching the zipper. “Another talking ring?” I asked, my voice flat with skepticism.


    “No, Miss Charlie,” Jerry replied, with what sounded suspiciously like a touch of offense. “A ring would be… overly dramatic. I have already arranged for all the necessary parts to be delivered. According to Femme Frontier magazine, these watches are currently the most desirable on the market.”