Chapter 1
I Was Reincarnated into a Novel Destined for Destruction
Three weeks before the incident.
If I had to explain my situation, it would go something like this.
I died after being hit by a car—and was reincarnated inside a novel.
Usually, when people talk about reincarnation or possession in a novel, they imagine a noble lady living in luxury, wearing glamorous dresses and surrounded by handsome men.
Until recently, my life wasn’t all that different either. Until recently, that is.
This world had social classes, high society, and lavish parties—one that reminded you of industrialized 19th-century Europe—
But it was about to be destroyed.
Because of a virus.
I was reincarnated into a B-grade, apocalypse survival romance novel titled Love in a Ruined World.
And not just as anyone, but as Cherry Sinclair—a troublesome side character who dies after endangering the sub male lead’s life.
I realized this in the early spring of my nineteenth year.
Three years ago, my parents died in an accident, leaving me alone in the world.
I wasn’t lonely. The enormous inheritance they left behind made sure of that.
Money really is the best.
I wasn’t a noble, but I was born into the bourgeois class—wealthier than most nobles—so I lived quite happily.
I could just throw money around and live like a reckless brat!
“Wrap this one too. And this as well.”
That day, I went on yet another extravagant shopping spree at a shoe store. Afterward, I strutted through the bustling streets, humming cheerfully.
My maid, Susanna, struggled to follow behind me with her arms full of shopping bags. She stood out so much it was almost embarrassing.
Whispers from noble ladies who recognized me drifted over.
“Isn’t that Lady Sinclair?”
“I wonder whose design that dress is.”
“That hat is lovely.”
Heh. I brushed my hair back and smiled smugly.
I wasn’t a noble, but nobles admired me all the same. It was thrilling—intoxicating, even.
The newspapers constantly labeled me a thoughtless heiress and featured me in sensational headlines, but I didn’t mind. Attention was still attention.
Back then, I lived without a care in the world, unaware of the dark clouds gathering over my future.
“Miss, please wait a moment.”
After finishing our shopping, Susanna loaded the luggage onto a four-wheeled carriage. The steam automobile I was riding in didn’t have enough space for the bags.
I stood nearby and watched quietly as she struggled with the heavy boxes filled with shoes.
She looks exhausted.
After making sure no one was watching, I lifted the boxes with one hand and placed them into the carriage.
“Wow… Miss, you’re incredibly strong.”
Susanna clapped in amazement. I shrugged casually. As she said, I was stronger than most people.
I wasn’t born this way. As a child, I’d been frail. But after taking some medicine my parents had obtained, a few years passed—and I gained this strength.
Still, brute strength wasn’t considered a virtue for a high-society woman. Since I’d always wanted to become a noble, I’d desperately hidden it.
“Huh?”
Just as I was about to board the steam automobile, a sudden chill ran down my spine. Seeing me hesitate with one foot inside, Susanna asked,
“What’s wrong, Miss?”
“It’s nothing, just…”
What is this ominous feeling?
A strange sensation suddenly washed over me. Thinking it was just my imagination, I tried to step inside again—but lost my balance and slipped.
Crash!
My head slammed against the ground.
I couldn’t even scream. Susanna hurriedly helped me up, her face pale with shock.
The pain from hitting the back of my head against the hard pavement was overwhelming. It felt as if someone had split my skull in half with an axe.
And through that crack, memories poured in—like a flood.
Memories that felt like mine, yet not mine, yet somehow mine—vivid, as if they had happened yesterday.
What the hell is this?
That was when I suddenly realized it.
Unbelievable as it sounded, I had a past life.
And this world I had been reincarnated into was the setting of a novel I had read in that past life.
A novel titled Love in a Ruined World.
Damn it. What kind of ridiculous, novel-like nonsense was this?
Life really did work on the worst possible timing—something I vaguely remembered a heroine in a survival novel once saying.
“Miss, are you really all right?”
“I’m fine.”
I wasn’t fine at all, but I let Susanna support me as I climbed into the car.
My head was still throbbing. Leaning back against the seat, I thought quietly.
The novel that resurfaced after I hit my head was the apocalypse survival romance Love in a Ruined World.
Also known as Ruined Love, it told the story of the heroine Aurora forming a “survival team” with the male leads after the world’s collapse in order to find a cure.
The novel featured various survivor camps, and the size of a camp equaled power.
Aurora conquered these camps one by one, gradually seizing control.
But the problem was—
The novel was discontinued.
The reason the virus spread was never properly explained.
The only clear information was that two years later, Aurora’s group would meet a scientist male lead capable of developing a cure—
And that they would then discover her brother, Eden, was immune to the virus.
Damn it.
And as if that weren’t enough, all Cherry ever did in the original story was whine about how Aurora’s group didn’t take care of her.
Cherry’s end?
She threw a tantrum, got bitten by a virus monster, and died. Damn it all.
“Miss… are you crying?”
Susanna, sitting beside me, handed me a handkerchief with a startled expression.
Leaning my head against the seat, quietly shedding tears, I replied,
“No. This is sweat.”
“…Pardon?”
She stared at me in confusion. I took the handkerchief and wiped away the tears on my cheeks.
That’s right. I’m not sad. These aren’t tears.
Of all novels to be reincarnated into, why Love in a Ruined World? Why an apocalypse?!
Damn it. Why are you doing this to me?
The capital of the Kingdom of Graydon—Benton.
The Sinclair family townhouse, located in the heart of the city, was extravagantly ornate.
Golden statues adorned the pristine white exterior, flaunting the mansion’s grandeur, while lavender covered the roof.
It was obvious the owner valued flamboyance over harmony.
On the third floor was the largest room, complete with a walk-in closet.
A three-tier dessert tray was always set on the table, scented candles filling the room with a soft floral fragrance.
Beside it stood a bed decorated entirely in gold—and I was lying on it.
The moment I returned home, I collapsed onto the bed without even eating.
Because I wanted to deny this unbelievable reality.
Even in a world ravaged by COVID, I’d never once needed a PCR test—a true unicorn. I’d thanked God for my luck, only to die suddenly in a traffic accident.
And now I was reborn into a novel, in a world destined to end because of a virus? The difficulty level had skyrocketed.
So that’s why you let me live as a unicorn—just to screw me over even harder later.
“If the world were to end tomorrow, I would plant an apple tree today.”
There was a saying like that.
But Cherry Sinclair had recently lost her family and had no one she loved. Needless to say, she had no interest in apple trees either.
Because of my parents’ business, I’d traveled constantly and had no friends—no cousins, either.
Well… there is Harrison.
Harrison Howard.
The Sinclair family’s legal advisor. We weren’t blood-related, but we’d grown up together and were close like real siblings.
I hadn’t lived with the household staff for long either, so the only person I felt attached to was my maid, Susanna.
As I lay there crying, Susanna came into my room.
“Miss Cherry. The newspapers you asked for.”
She was holding several papers from different dates. Rubbing my eyes, I sat up and took them.
“Thank you.”
I skimmed through them quickly. After a while, I finally found the article I was looking for.
[An In-Depth Analysis of Cherry Sinclair’s Spending Habits! Just How Far Does the Thoughtless Heiress’s Extravagance Go…!]
Ah—this wasn’t it.
The article detailed my spending patterns and showcased the dresses I’d worn.
Whenever my clothes or jewelry appeared in newspapers or magazines, the designs would sell out instantly.
They criticize me, yet they’re obsessed.
Shaking my head, I read the article below.
[A Grand Funeral at the Marquess of Casey’s Estate! Family spokesperson claims the deceased were household staff suffering from an infectious disease…!]
This was it.
Just as I remembered from my past life, something was happening at the Marquess of Casey’s estate.
This is insane. Does that mean my memories are real?
The tragedy of this novel began with the Marquess of Casey’s suspicious experiments. Alchemists sponsored by him conducted unethical research, eventually spreading a catastrophic virus. To evade responsibility, the family covered everything up.
In the novel, exactly three months after this article was published, the world ended.
When I checked the publication date—
Two months had already passed.
“What the hell is this?”
That meant only twenty-one days remained until the apocalypse.
Less than a month.
“This is insane—twenty-one days is way too short!”
I grabbed my hair in despair.
