Chapter 01
Crunch, crunch.
Tiny kitten paw prints were stamped one by one into the untouched white snow, where no other traces could be seen.
The sensation of the cold snow touching its paw pads felt unfamiliar.
Still, people had been saying it was warmer these past few days, so it should have been less cold—but it was just as chilly as ever, enough to make its fur stand on end.
Spring was cold, summer was still chilly, autumn was brisk, and winter was even colder.
‘Now that I think about it, I’ve always been cold… I don’t think I’ve ever felt hot before.’
Even so, after constantly trembling from the cold, it seemed the cold had become somewhat familiar.
Every time it opened its mouth, white breath puffed out.
‘Damn it… why do they make me do things like this….’
A slightly unusual black-furred kitten (19 years old) was lamenting its life.
‘Who the hell said cats live easy lives? I’m going to track that person down to the ends of the continent and argue with them.’
Irritated for no real reason, it kicked the snow in front of it with its front paws.
‘I’ll definitely confront them.’
The innocent snow it kicked scattered in all directions.
Even humans who were said to have lived hard lives in the past must have had it better than me. At least none of them had to climb snowy mountains to pick flowers.
And yet here I was, wandering through a winter mountain because that damned Celestine Simond suddenly said she wanted to see flowers.
Even though the Simond estate already had plenty of flowers just for her.
This was nothing more than malicious harassment directed at me.
To hell with this.
‘You’d think I’d be used to how the Simond family treats me by now… but it still stings.’
Or maybe it was less sadness and more annoyance.
‘The noble white cats’—the Simond family.
The Simond family was one of the high-ranking noble houses.
‘Because they’re the leaders of the cat-folk.’
On the Beast Continent, white cats symbolized good fortune, while black cats symbolized misfortune.
And every member of the Simond bloodline was a white cat—this made the family itself a symbol of luck.
“Fortunate Simond.”
That’s what people called them.
And they took great pride in it.
Well, they had reason to.
It showed they were descendants of Arithea, a beastfolk being like an untouchable star.
Then one day, in a family where only white cats had been born for generations, a black cat was born.
That black cat was me—a freak.
“Something with such wicked energy will bring ruin to our family!”
“Why is that lump of misfortune still alive?”
“Who’s your sister? Don’t call me that. You’ll contaminate me.”
As expected, those noble white cats hated me.
No—not just hatred. They despised and loathed my very existence. I was their stain.
But I had my doubts too.
Why was a small black cat born among those noble white ones?
Was I really even part of the Simond family?
They tormented me relentlessly while thoroughly hiding my existence, as if I should never have existed in this world.
As if they feared something.
From the age of six, I never properly called a family member’s name, nor did anyone call mine. I was nothing more than their outlet for anger.
My name? I don’t know.
Everyone just called me “misfortune.”
I just hoped that wasn’t actually my name.
Because if it was… that would be truly sad.
Those who called themselves my family were busy tormenting me. At first, it was small errands—bring water, put on shoes, polish them—but over time, it escalated.
When they spoke cruel words with angel-like white hair, it made that hair seem more vicious than anything.
If I polished their shoes, they would say they were tainted with dirty energy and throw them away in front of everyone.
If I brought them drinks, they would pour them over my head.
If I went through hell to pick flowers in winter, they would claim they contained wicked energy and trample and burn them in front of everyone.
Wow. Thinking about it now, they really had outstanding personalities.
‘Trash that can’t even be incinerated.’
At nine, I finally managed my first human transformation—later than others. I got angry at Celestine’s absurd demands and tried to resist a few times.
“I suddenly feel like seeing flowers. Go pick some.”
“Here.”
“Where are the flowers?”
At the time, I smiled brightly and held my hands like a flower, saying:
“Here.”
And then—
Smack!
I was struck across the face in front of everyone.
“Anne, throw these gloves away.”
From that day on, Lady Simond and Celestine beat me all over.
Yes, I admit my resistance was strange.
But I didn’t hit Celestine, and that hardly counted as rebellion—wasn’t that too much?
As time passed, the punishments grew harsher, and eventually I gave up resisting and chose to live quietly.
And as if they had been waiting for that, the moment I became obedient, they started making even more absurd demands.
Thinking about it again… they were truly remarkable people.
Still, my life was bearable in one sense—I could endure it.
No matter how much I was hurt, trampled emotionally, or treated like I didn’t exist, I could endure.
…At least until that day.
“I will remove that lump of misfortune’s bad luck.”
The moment the head of the family said that, everyone praised his mercy.
To think he would not only allow that “misfortune” to stay in the estate, but even remove its bad luck! How noble!
It was ironic—they were praising him for accepting his own child.
The servants snickered and kicked me lightly.
“You should be grateful. A lump of misfortune like you should’ve been thrown out already, but you get to stay thanks to His Grace’s mercy.”
“He’s so kind, taking in something like that. If it were me, I’d have thrown it away long ago.”
“Exactly. It’s unsettling to keep something that brings misfortune.”
“But His Grace said he’d remove your bad luck.”
“Even if it’s removed, don’t forget your nature. You’re still filth that brings others misfortune.”
“You’re only alive because this is the lucky Simond family. Anywhere else, you’d already be dead from your bad luck.”
“That’s your destined fate.”
It was strange that servants bullied a member of the Simond family—but no one stopped them.
If anything, they encouraged it.
My existence was a disgrace to the family. Inside, they treated me like this, while outside they hid my existence completely.
So no matter how cruel they were, it would never be known beyond the estate.
Because I wasn’t supposed to exist.
Even the butler avoided me as if I were filthy.
Naturally, as people ignored it, the abuse only grew worse.
After the head’s declaration, Lady Simond and Celestine stopped beating me for punishment.
They only occasionally gave me strange errands while looking at me with contempt.
Instead, something far worse began.
An unimaginable hell.
It was a nightmare beyond reason.
Pain so intense it crushed the mind of even a beastfolk.
Relentless agony that destroyed my sanity and made normal life impossible.
Compared to this, everything before felt like child’s play.
My veins screamed constantly in unbearable pain.
“…Doctor…”
“Still… a half success…”
Those were always the last words I heard before losing consciousness.
Whenever they came, I would run desperately through the mansion, trying to avoid that pain.
It was a desperate attempt to survive.
My stitched wounds would burst open from the strain.
But the result was always the same—I’d be caught and dragged to that place, whether it was an infirmary or a laboratory.
Someone once said giving up makes things easier.
Yes. It did.
My resistance was useless, and the helplessness growing inside me eventually consumed me.
After I stopped running, I couldn’t even move from the tattered box I lay in.
They said sleep dulled the pain, so I tried to fall asleep before the experiments began.
Still, someone came once a day to check if I was alive.
Others came often, writing notes as they observed my condition.
I didn’t know why. I couldn’t even move.
My condition never changed.
I lay in that box, and whenever I woke up, I was covered in blood and unable to move.
But it hurt less than tearing open my wounds while trying to escape.
And then—
“Tch. That one’s a failure.”
With those words, and a look of contempt—
my hell ended.
I think I saw a flicker of fear in their eyes.
Of course, they still watched me.
But I was no longer dragged to that horrific place of scissors, needles, knives, and drugs.
For a while, no one paid attention to me.
After the final experiment, I lay in that box for days, unable to move.
It hurt terribly.
Something tore through my body, stabbing everywhere.
The body that could once transform into a human could no longer even dream of it.
It felt like my heart was frozen over, my entire body burning and freezing at the same time.
A contradictory, extreme pain.
Even breathing was difficult in that agony.
And then, I lost consciousness.
That’s when it happened.
‘…Oh, shit.’
I regained memories of my past life.
‘My life.’
