Chapter 1
Dusk.
Huff… huff… huff…
Pushing through the dense reed field, the woman dragged her feet forward as if they no longer belonged to her. From her lips escaped ragged, labored breaths without pause.
Her clothes were stained with crimson blood and dirt, torn in several places by sharp cuts. Pressing one hand against the wound at her side to stem the bleeding, she forced herself onward with increasingly heavy steps.
But had she lost too much blood? Her vision blurred, dizziness washing over her in waves, and at last she could no longer go on. She collapsed where she stood.
Cough!
The moment she fell, a dark-red clot of blood burst from her mouth. Violent, spasmodic coughing followed, thick streaks of blood running down her lips. When the coughing finally ceased, the utterly exhausted woman lay flat on her back, as if she had been thrown to the ground.
Tap… tap… tap…
Then she heard it—footsteps approaching rapidly from afar.
It seemed the blade-wielders hired by Chairman Choi were not limited to the four she had already eliminated.
Well, of course. His son was dead. No matter how much of a worthless scoundrel he had been, he was still the only son Chairman Choi had. Moreover, due to her decisive tip-off and the evidence she had submitted, one of his subsidiaries had been driven to the brink of bankruptcy, causing massive financial damage.
His rage must have reached its peak. Chairman Choi would never stop the pursuit until he confirmed her death.
But it no longer mattered.
She had already achieved everything she set out to do. There was not a single shred of desire or attachment left in her life.
Eight years old—summer.
Her parents and she had gone on a summer vacation to the southern coast. Perhaps it was a mistake to have chosen such a remote lodging.
Four drunken men, reeking of alcohol, attacked her mother on her way back from a convenience store. When her mother was late returning, the girl and her father grew worried and went out to meet her. That was when they witnessed the horrific scene.
Even after seeing the father and daughter, the young men in their twenties did not leave the mother alone. When her father rushed in to pull them away, he was instead beaten brutally by all of them at once.
The girl’s scream, mixed with tears, eventually drew nearby passersby, and the beastly violence came to an end. But as a result, her mother lost the child she was carrying, and her father suffered severe injuries that required 24 weeks of treatment.
Under Korea’s Act on Special Cases Concerning the Punishment of Sexual Crimes, group rape offenders were subject to at least seven years in prison or even life imprisonment. However, because the perpetrators were sons of powerful figures, they received suspended sentences—mere slap-on-the-wrist punishment.
Their claims—that because the mother did not refuse their offer, it was a consensual encounter, and that their intoxication diminished responsibility—were accepted. Even the assault on her father was ruled mutual violence, resulting only in fines.
Her father appealed. The trial dragged on endlessly, during which her mother was repeatedly subjected to humiliation and sexual shame in court.
On the day the appeal was also lost, her mother took her own life.
When the girl found her mother lying like a crumpled sheet in a pool of crimson blood, she fainted from shock. When she awoke, she had lost all memories of her previous life.
Her father, unable to endure the situation, placed her in a friend’s orphanage and prepared his final measure: exposing the case to television stations, newspapers, and women’s organizations to bring it into public light. But before he could act, he was killed in a hit-and-run accident.
She regained her lost memories in her third year working as a surgeon at a university hospital. A woman, brought in covered in blood after suffering a similar crime as her mother, triggered the unlocking of her sealed memories.
That night, she heard the full story from the orphanage director.
She stood at a crossroads between revenge and a stable life as a skilled surgeon with guaranteed wealth and honor.
The conflict did not last long.
The image of her mother appearing in dreams every night, her unborn younger sibling who never saw the light of day, and the burning hatred toward those who had killed even her father—all of it outweighed the promise of wealth and prestige.
Choosing revenge, she immediately began investigating the perpetrators. They were now living successful lives as a lawyer, financier, broadcaster, and businessman.
Their success was a tragedy in itself. With inherited power and wealth layered upon their family influence, they became untouchable beings in society.
They committed assault, arson, even murder without hesitation. If their crimes were exposed, they resolved it with money; if that failed, they erased their victims from the world as accidents—just as they had done to her father.
To openly reveal herself against such powerful figures would be no different from a moth flying into fire.
She was neither foolish nor reckless.
A gentleman’s revenge is never too late even after ten years.
She left her hospital job and joined the National Intelligence Service, believing it would aid her vengeance.
After completing basic training as an NIS operative, she became a field doctor in charge of agents, spending more than half the year overseas. Working closely with field operatives, she naturally learned combat and specialized weapon techniques, and within a few years her skills advanced to the point she was deployed not as a doctor, but as a black operative.
Even while carrying out missions, she made time for revenge and eliminated her third target without difficulty.
But as the saying goes—long tails get stepped on.
She had varied her methods of elimination to avoid leaving any traceable connection. Yet after the third target’s death, the final target, Chairman Choi’s son Choi Seungmin, began investigating her.
Not wanting to cause damage to her workplace, she resigned immediately upon hearing the news.
She disappeared without a trace, sinking underground as if vanishing into the depths.
To find her, Choi Seungmin hired professional fixers.
But they failed to locate her.
Instead, Choi Seungmin himself ended up drinking a glass of alcohol handed to him by a woman disguised as a nightclub employee—and met his end.
“Kgh…!”
Suddenly, a sharp pain surged through her chest, as if someone had grabbed her heart and twisted it.
Strength drained from her entire body, and her eyes closed against her will.
They say that when people die, those without religion are met by their departed family members.
Would her parents be waiting for her too?
As her consciousness faded like a flickering light, that was her final thought in this world.
Imperial Calendar Year 409.
In the end, her parents were not waiting for her.
When she opened her eyes, she realized she had been reborn while retaining all memories of her past life.
Most officially recognized reincarnators are said to lose their memories of their previous lives before the age of six or seven. But she was different.
Even now, at sixteen years old, her memories remained vividly intact.
“Young lady, the viscount is looking for you.”
While she was conducting experiments comparing the effects of herbal fruits, stems, and roots, her personal maid and assistant, Anna, entered and informed her.
“Alright. I’ll finish this first, so you may leave for now. Ah, Gordon—where is he? He was supposed to come to my lab today, but he hasn’t shown up yet.”
Gordon was the new disciple taken in by Morgan Hart, a former imperial palace physician, after her.
“I heard he went on a house call to Reville. He probably won’t be back until the afternoon.”
A short while later, after finishing her experiment, Freya went to the study of her maternal uncle, Viscount Harrington, located in the main building of the lord’s manor.
The viscount’s face, as he greeted her, was dark.
“You called for me?”
“This letter is from Ken.”
Her uncle handed her a single letter.
Ken was her maternal cousin, currently attending the Imperial Academy in the capital.
Freya silently began reading the letter. By the time she finished, her expression had darkened just as much as her uncle’s.
“Both your father’s sudden worsening illness and your sister’s condition… in my opinion, you should go home as soon as possible.”
“Yes… I think I should.”
