DSM 01

Chapter 1

An empty room.

“Hoo…”

Shatrina, seated at her desk, quietly picked up her pen.

Normally, she would have been asleep by now, but tonight she couldn’t bring herself to lie down in bed with an easy mind. The situation was far too serious for that.

She’d probably get scolded if the maids caught her, but there were only a few of them to begin with, and they had already returned to their own rooms.

Time entirely to herself.

She dipped the pen nib into the inkwell, lifted it, and slowly began scribbling something onto a yellowed sheet of paper.

After listing the chilling professions, she nodded with a satisfied expression.

If the maids had seen this, they would have screamed in shock. It was hardly something one would expect from an innocent crown princess.

But contrary to what they believed, Shatrina was a girl far more mature than her age suggested.

Not just mature—her way of thinking, her perspective, everything about her was different from others.

Well, it couldn’t be helped.

‘I’ve lived for hundreds of years.’

A sigh she had been suppressing for days finally escaped. They said sighing too often became a habit, but staying still felt like she would burst from sheer frustration.

Just how many times had she possessed someone now? And it would’ve been one thing if it were ordinary possessions—but no, it was always something outrageous.

‘Do I have to possess bodies like these every time?’

Her teeth ground together at this absurd situation. Seeing it with her own eyes made the reality before her even more ridiculous than she’d imagined.

This was exactly why she’d wanted to escape reality for a bit.

‘But this isn’t the time for that.’

She’d be lucky if she didn’t jump out the window on impulse.

She tossed the pen down and stood up. Moving carefully, Shatrina stopped in front of a vanity roughly her height.

A girl with long, jet-black hair glared fiercely back at her from the mirror.

Beyond the faint candlelight, crimson eyes gleamed—exactly as she had expected.

“Ha!”

Her beautiful lips twisted sharply.

Having confirmed it with her own eyes, there was no choice but to accept it.

“Damn it.”

Four possessions.

No—since she’d possessed someone again this time, did that make it the fifth?

She slowly raised her hand and touched her face.

In her previous life, her skin had been relatively rough, but now her palm was filled with smooth, pale cheeks.

Her appearance was on an entirely different level. Pretty, well-defined features, deep black hair, and red eyes. She’d stand out no matter where she went.

But there was one fatal problem that prevented her from feeling happy about it.

This body’s status.

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake.’

Shatrina recalled a grim novel she had read a long time ago.

A tragic supporting character who died early—Supporting Character No. 1.

A character who exited the story in its early stages.

“Damn it.”

A bleak, R-rated novel where only one person survived. The second character to die in the story—a pitiful supporting role.

The person she had possessed this time was none other than Shatrina.

And according to the original story, one week from now—

“Am I dying again?!”

She was scheduled to die.

Five times.

That was how many times I had possessed characters from novels I’d read.

And it was also how many times I had died.

Before I was caught in this insane cycle, I had been nothing more than an ordinary office worker in my twenties.

Even the first time I died, nothing about my day was unusual. I was just heading home after working overtime.

Then, out of nowhere, a dump truck veered onto the sidewalk—and through sheer bad luck, it hit me.

Sudden, yes, but not particularly special.

The real problem started after that.

—My beloved child.

Just before my eyes closed, I heard a very small voice.

The surroundings were filled with screams, yet that voice alone was calm and gentle.

—Grant me my request.
—……
—Then I will let you live.

The being who introduced himself as a god suddenly made me an offer.

To fulfill his request.

As time passed, that moment began to feel almost like a dream.

But one thing was certain: I had accepted his proposal—and ever since, I’d been repeatedly possessing others.

First an assassin. Then an archmage, a mercenary, and a magic swordsman.

One after another, I possessed characters from novels I’d read in my past life.

But I had never once fulfilled his request.

No—rather, I couldn’t.

Just before my first death, the mission the god gave me was simple.

—Kill the demon.

‘…This is a scam.’

Strangely enough, across all my past lives, I never once encountered a demon.

I searched the entire continent, but every attempt ended in failure.

I didn’t even know whether “demon” meant an actual demon, or merely a demon-like being.

So over the course of four lives, I personally dealt with anyone who could plausibly be called a demon.

I had to try something. Given the roles of the people I possessed, encountering such figures was as natural as breathing.

But nothing changed.

And once again, I possessed someone new.

Damn it.

“Life…”

I propped my foot up on the table in front of the sofa and let out a long sigh.

Day two of possession.

After getting a rough grasp of the situation, I already wanted to go home.

…I mean, seriously.

‘You couldn’t even give me a break after killing me?’

If you’re going to do this, at least allow some downtime. No matter how many times I went through it, this was something I could never get used to.

“Why did it have to be Shatrina…?”

I lowered my foot and leaned back against the sofa.

I didn’t want to admit it, but honestly, this body had a very high chance of dying quickly.

Because in this novel, Shatrina was nothing more than a trivial supporting character.

A crown princess who nursed her sickly husband, only to die under false accusations.

Worse still, the one who framed her was the greatest mastermind in the setting—her husband’s father, Emperor Lambert, the biological father of the Fourth Prince.

In other words, her father-in-law.

—That child killed my son.

The emperor, who had actually killed his own sick son first, accused his daughter-in-law of murder.

Shatrina, a princess from an enemy nation, was the perfect scapegoat.

After executing her, the emperor used her “crime” as justification to immediately invade her homeland.

Everything was planned from the start. The emperor used his own son and daughter-in-law as nothing more than seeds of war.

‘Bastard.’

Among all the masterminds I’d seen, that emperor ranked easily in the top three for sheer insanity.

‘…No. I still have time.’

The situation was awful, but at least there was time left. Not much—but it was still better than waking up in front of a guillotine.

One week from now, the emperor would send assassins after the Fourth Prince.

The day after the prince’s corpse was discovered, I would be thrown not into the palace—but into a cold prison cell.

So I had to do something with the time I had left.

‘I don’t want to die again.’

Dying once or twice was more than enough.

I absolutely refused to experience death again.

That lingering discomfort every time I died—I was sick of it.

First things first—

‘Let’s meet the Fourth Prince.’

Strike while the iron’s hot. Deciding to see my husband first, I immediately left the room.

“Y-Your Highness?”

As I stepped out, a maid staggered back in surprise. Her reaction naturally put me in a bad mood.

‘What?’

For the past two days since my possession, the maids had treated me like dust in the air.

It wasn’t pleasant, but it was understandable. The Fourth Prince himself held little power, and his treatment extended to me. On top of that, I was from an enemy nation.

But today felt different. This level of shock was strange.

An unfamiliar unease crept up my spine.

“Why?”

Hiding my suspicion, I slowly looked the maid up and down. She hurriedly cleared her throat, trying—and failing badly—to hide something.

“W-Where are you going?”

“The prince’s palace.”

My tone naturally turned sharp in response to her attitude.

The moment she heard that, the maid suddenly held her breath.

…What?

‘What’s wrong with her?’

“W-Where did you say you were going?”

“To the prince’s palace.”

I tilted my chin toward the long corridor, signaling her to lead the way.

But her response was odd.

“N-No, you can’t!”

“…Hm?”

Her bold refusal left me momentarily stunned.

But she shook her head quickly, dead serious.

“Not today.”

‘Not today?’

Frowning, I replayed her words. Her speech and overall demeanor were suspicious.

“Guide me.”

Ignoring her objection, I repeated myself. Apparently, she hadn’t expected that reaction and began stammering.

“I-I told you, you can’t!”

“Oh?”

Then I’d just go alone.

I turned around immediately. The maid stomped her feet in panic.

‘It’s not like she’s the only maid here.’

People could be found if you looked.

“Where are you going?!”

…To the prince’s palace. Talking had already become tiresome, so I continued walking in silence.

At that moment, I sensed movement behind me.

I spun around sharply. The maid flinched back, her hand hovering in midair—only to be caught by mine.

I kicked the nearest knee I could see.

“Ahh!”

The maid screamed as she collapsed to the floor.

Tightening my grip, I whispered softly,

“Are you going to guide me?”

Her eyes shook violently, filled with shock and confusion.

Seeing that, I smiled faintly.

“Good choice.”

Lead the way.

In this grim novel, Dead, the position of the Fourth Prince—Shatrina’s husband—was extremely ambiguous.

Though born of the empress, her influence was weak.

A concubine backed by a powerful maternal family seized control of the inner palace.

Not the eldest son, and sickly from birth, the Fourth Prince was practically treated as nonexistent by his father, the emperor.

The fact that he was named and then immediately sent to the battlefield spoke volumes about his neglect.

“Your Highness!”
“Y-Your Highness?!”

Yes. This situation wasn’t entirely unexpected.

But still—

“This is worse than I thought.”

Led to the prince’s palace by the maid, I pressed my fingers to my forehead at the sight before me.

Maids clustered in front of the room. The atmosphere was chaotic.

Clicking my tongue, I pushed past them and opened the door.

The first thing I saw was a boy collapsed face-down on the floor.

“!”

“……”

Watching him quietly, I swallowed hard.

His emaciated back was covered in vivid red wounds.

My gaze lifted naturally.

A neatly dressed man tilted his head slowly, his expression blank.

“…Your Highness?”

A whip dangled from his hand.