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Among web novel writers, there’s a saying that’s become almost a rule: You can tell if a novel will succeed from its first line.

Conversely, you can also tell if it will fail from the first line.

The moment the editor read the first line of my highly anticipated work, which I’d been writing for three years, they said:

“To be honest… you just don’t have a talent for writing web novels.”

I was dumbfounded and asked in disbelief, staring at the editor who had just delivered this news with a blank expression.

“You’ve only been reading for about 10 seconds.”

“Is there really any need to finish a novel that starts with ‘In the year 172 of the Imperial Calendar’?”

“But the story gets more interesting later on. Can’t you read just a bit more? Maybe just three more chapters…?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but have you thought about changing genres?”

I couldn’t believe the editor’s sudden suggestion.

“You struggle with writing female characters in a three-dimensional way, don’t you? Of course, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Thanks to that, when male characters interact, there’s an unusual synergy. I’ve always thought that whenever I read your work.”

Their sharp observation hit a nerve. You have to know women to write women well.

Having been a shut-in since I was 20, there was no way I could understand women.

So the female characters in my novels were always one of two types: the cliché villainess or the girl crush.

As I gloomily sipped my coffee, the editor spoke in a nonchalant tone.

“In that case, why not try writing something with just male characters? Like BL, for example.”

The editor gave a subtle smile as they finished speaking. The unexpected turn of events made me choke on my coffee.

“P-PD, I… I dreamed of becoming the next best thing… I entered the web novel market with that goal. And now you’re suddenly suggesting I change genres? That’s like telling a caterpillar to jump!”

“Even a caterpillar will jump if it’s desperate enough.”

“That’s not what I meant…”

“Think back to your first work from three years ago. Remember the most popular combination back then?”

Once again, I was at a loss for words. The episodes featuring the male lead and his male sidekick always had the most comments.

The story’s popularity skyrocketed because of their dynamic. But some readers did say, ‘This author writes female characters terribly.’

I knew I was terrible at writing female characters, but no matter how bad I was, BL wasn’t the answer. I responded with a shaky voice.

“I’m not gay, and… romance isn’t even what I want to write in the first place. I want to write heavy medieval fantasy with deep messages.”

“That’s exactly where your talent lies. The male friendships you write are oddly intense, almost like pure, untainted love because there’s no sexual nuance.”

So I had a talent for writing Boys’ Love?

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the backhanded compliment.

The editor, sensing my complete loss of will, delivered the final blow.

“Let’s do this. Just write it as you usually do, without pushing it to 19+. All you have to do is add a touch of bromance.”

“Bromance… You say that like it’s no big deal.”

“You’re hitting a slump because you’re trying too hard to perfect what you’ve been doing.”

I kept my mouth shut at the editor’s cold reaction. I knew they were saying all this because they cared about me.

“In that case, you need to try something new. Change this story from a medieval fantasy to BL. Stop playing around with settings that only you find interesting. Make it light and kitschy.”

“Light and kitschy…?”

“Yes, light and kitschy. Can you revise the manuscript by the end of next month?”

Honestly, this wasn’t the time for me to be picky about where to lie down.

Debt collectors knocked on my door every day. I clenched my fists on my lap.

Fine, it’s all or nothing. As soon as I nodded reluctantly, the editor stood up.

“And visit the salon, will you? You were born handsome, so why don’t you take care of yourself?”

“I don’t have any money. My gas has been shut off since last month, so I’ve been taking cold showers.”

“Goodness. Then you need to work even harder. Let’s do our best, author.”

I awkwardly smiled back at the editor, who smiled warmly at me.

Her tone might have been a bit harsh, but she was a good person who had always taken my manuscripts seriously since my first work.

Groaning with my head in my hands, I bit my lower lip.

I gathered my strength and opened my cheap, old laptop once more.

“Alright, let’s write this as if it’s my last…”

That’s how I began my first BL novel, ‘The Servant Extra Hides His Power’.

As the editor predicted, the BL novel I wrote became immensely popular from the moment it launched. The publishing company, eager to ride the wave, suggested daily serialization.

But that was a mistake. As the serialization schedule tightened, the quality of my writing naturally declined.

The initial praise was overshadowed by comments criticizing the story and people dropping it.

Daily serialization, a flipped day and night schedule, irregular eating habits, and the barrage of hateful comments… After repeating this life for a year, I felt a wave of relief when I finally collapsed.

So this is how I end up collapsing. But I don’t have money for hospital bills.

How will I pay off my debt…?

My rent is overdue too.

Even as I was on the verge of dying from overwork, all I could think about was money.

I even wanted to die rather than spend a fortune on hospitalization.

‘I want to make a lot of money. I want to eat delicious food whenever I want. I want to take long, hot showers.’

My blurred vision caught sight of a medal hanging on the wall. I also noticed a frame that I hadn’t touched since I turned it upside down years ago. As I felt my hands start to stiffen, I let out a self-deprecating laugh.

I blinked three times. The first time, my vision was blurred by tears, so I couldn’t see clearly. The second time, I saw the narrow, cramped one-room apartment. The problem was the third time.

When I finally forced my eyes open again…

A large, rough-looking man was glaring down at me.

✽ ✽ ✽

‘…Is this a dream?’

I’m 178 cm tall. I’ve never had the experience of being looked down on like this. The man, who was staring at me with a cold expression, spoke in a low, grave voice.

“Your prophecy was wrong again. Because of you, I’ve been thoroughly humiliated.”

“…”

“What excuse will you make this time? You already used the ‘I haven’t been here long’ excuse last time, didn’t you?”

As I shifted my gaze slightly, I caught a glimpse of my face reflected in an ornately crafted full-length mirror.

The room was dim, so I couldn’t see clearly, but the silhouette I saw was unmistakably female. Instinctively, I pinched one of my cheeks.

‘…It hurts, so this isn’t a dream.’

The cheek I pinched was way too soft to be that of Ji Eunsoo, an adult male.

As I stood there dumbfounded with my cheek pinched, the man clicked his tongue in annoyance and left the room.

I could faintly hear him muttering, “I can’t believe I brought someone like that and called her a saint.”

My legs gave out. Even after the strange man left, I remained collapsed on the floor for a long time.

Sure, my current pitiful state was disgusting, but what did it matter?

“This… this is definitely transmigration…”

Normally, someone who’s been transmigrated would marvel at their newfound beauty or wealth, but none of that registered in my mind.

The fact that I transmigrated as a female character didn’t even bother me.

I mean, who cares when you’ve transmigrated, something that only happens in novels?

There was only one thing that mattered to Ji Eunsoo right now.

‘This means… I don’t have to work anymore.’

It meant I could live as an unemployed bum.

I shot up from the floor and stretched my arms upwards. This was a silent scream of joy. Goodbye, acid reflux.

Goodbye, stress-induced stomach cramps.

Goodbye, the cursed life of Ji Eunsoo.

As I basked in the euphoria, I finally snapped back to reality.

“Wait, but who exactly have I transmigrated? I hope it’s a novel I’m familiar with…”

Judging by the surroundings and the clothes I was wearing, this wasn’t a modern setting. My eyes gleamed with excitement.

If this was a medieval fantasy novel, then I had this in the bag. It was my favorite genre, after all.

Which author’s novel could this be?

‘Legend of the Sun Sculptor’ that I stayed up all night reading in middle school?

Or ‘Ella Stein, the Destroyer’, which still holds the top spot in my heart as the best novel ever?

My heart raced at the thought that this might be the world of dragons, magic, and all the wonders I had always longed for.

“…But what’s this strange, familiar feeling coming from… down there?”

I froze, my joy abruptly halted.

The face in the mirror was undoubtedly that of a noble lady, yet there was a peculiar discomfort in my thigh.

I hesitantly gripped my dress tightly.

My hand touched something soft and spongy.

“Wh-what…?”

I quickly pulled my hand back, swallowing a scream.

My already pale face turned even whiter as I looked back into the mirror.

Now that I thought about it, there was something oddly familiar about this face.

A sense of déjà vu, like I’d seen it somewhere before.

Without thinking, a familiar name slipped from my lips.

“Jeanne…”

Pale skin, sharp eyes, a beauty mark beneath lips that exuded a cold allure, long dark brown hair cascading down to her waist, and lashes that conveyed a brooding atmosphere. T

here was no way this beautiful face could be connected to that spongy… thing.

But I knew it because I had written it. This was definitely Jeanne.

Jeanne was a character who had been adopted into a ducal family in place of his twin sister.

He pretended to be his sickly sister to protect her, enduring countless humiliations before finally becoming a villain.

“I’m Jeanne?”

Shocked, I stumbled backward, hitting the edge of a table.

Objects spilled from the table, and I picked up a rolling seal with trembling hands.

On the seal were two snakes entwined, guarding a crown of thorns.

The moment I saw that symbol, the main character’s lines from the novel I had written flashed through my mind.

“The snakes never let go once they start squeezing, even if it’s a crown of thorns. Their greed will influence His highness Carlisle’s actions in the future.”

“But the Efilia family is one of the founding families of the empire. Duke Carlotte is the biggest supporter of the Imperial Academy. We can’t deal with them without a solid reason.”

Luke, the main character, was the only aide the Crown Prince, Carlisle, trusted. Unlike Jeanne, who was constantly hysterical because Carlisle never gave her attention, Luke was always calm and intelligent.

Luke advised Carlisle, who was troubled over how to deal with the Efilia family that constantly hindered him.

“We just need to create a pretext.”

“A pretext?”

“According to recent rumors in the social circles, Lady Jeanne is extremely jealous and vain. There’s even a rumor that she brings commoner men into her room at night. If we use Lady Jeanne well, we can suppress the Efilia family’s excessive power.”

I muttered, gripping my smooth hair tightly.

“And so, Carlisle abandoned Jeanne for a year after their engagement… and then executed her for trying to kill Luke while hiding her gender.”

A scale balanced in my mind.

Living as a poor web novel writer vs. Becoming a cross-dressing villain who gets executed by guillotine.

The scale tipped wildly before settling to one side.

I shivered at the unfamiliar sensation of my hair slipping over my shoulders as I tucked it behind my ears.

“Damn it, I have no choice.”

This was the beginning of a new chapter in my life, from hard mode to ultra-hard mode.

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