Arianne stared at the system window.
Then stared a little longer.
Then looked away.
Then looked back.
The number stubbornly refused to change.
Future Survival Probability: 13%
“…”
That was an ugly number.
A very ugly number.
The kind of number that belonged on failed exams and dying batteries.
Not on living people.
Arianne pointed at the screen.
“I would like to file a complaint.”
The system ignored her.
“I’ve been in this world for less than a day.”
Nothing.
“I’m eight years old.”
Nothing.
“I don’t know how to fight.”
Nothing.
The screen remained completely unmoved by her suffering.
Arianne sighed.
The system clearly subscribed to the philosophy of throwing children into dangerous situations and hoping for the best.
A very concerning philosophy.
She flopped backward onto the bed.
The expensive bed.
The expensive room.
The expensive mansion.
And somehow she still felt poor.
Because despite everything around her…
This room didn’t belong to someone loved.
It belonged to someone tolerated.
Arianne stared at the ceiling.
The original memories surfaced again.
Small pieces.
Tiny fragments.
The kind that hurt more because they seemed ordinary.
A birthday cake.
Seven candles.
A small smile.
A little girl waiting.
The memory shifted.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Nobody came.
Because Fiona’s training session had lasted longer than expected.
The adults promised they would celebrate later.
They never did.
The memory ended.
Arianne closed her eyes.
“…Ouch.”
Another memory appeared.
School.
A sports event.
Children running around excitedly.
Parents cheering.
A small girl searched the crowd.
Looking for familiar faces.
None appeared.
Because Fiona was being interviewed by a local news station that day.
Again.
The memory faded.
Arianne rubbed her forehead.
The original Arianne hadn’t been hated.
That would have been easier.
At least hatred was attention.
No.
The real problem was worse.
She had simply become forgettable.
The moment Fiona awakened her fire ability…
The entire household shifted around her.
Like flowers turning toward sunlight.
Everyone wanted to be close to the genius.
The future star.
The child newspapers couldn’t stop talking about.
And Arianne?
Arianne became background scenery.
A chair in the corner.
A decoration.
Something people noticed only when it was missing.
Arianne hated that feeling.
Maybe because she understood it.
Her previous life wasn’t exactly the same.
But she knew what it felt like to be overlooked.
To work hard while someone else got the praise.
To quietly carry responsibilities while louder people received attention.
The original Arianne was only eight.
Eight.
A child shouldn’t have to work for affection.
Yet somehow…
She spent years trying.
Arianne sighed.
Then sat up.
The original owner deserved better.
Much better.
A soft green light suddenly flickered around her fingertips.
Arianne blinked.
The light disappeared almost immediately.
“…Huh.”
That was new.
She stared at her hand.
Nothing happened.
The system window appeared.
[Spirit Gardener]
Passive Growth Synchronization Activated
“…What does that mean?”
No answer.
Of course.
Arianne was beginning to suspect the system enjoyed being mysterious.
It probably thought it was being dramatic.
Unfortunately, Arianne preferred explanations.
The system preferred suffering.
Their relationship was not off to a great start.
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Not loud.
Not aggressive.
Just enough to announce someone’s presence.
The door opened before she could answer.
A servant entered.
A middle-aged woman.
Neatly dressed.
Professional.
Careful.
Very careful.
Like someone constantly trying not to make mistakes.
“Miss Arianne.”
The woman hesitated.
Then spoke again.
“Madam wishes to see you downstairs.”
Arianne blinked.
Madam.
Not Mother.
The original memories immediately reacted.
Apparently that wasn’t unusual.
Most servants referred to Mrs.
Rowland as Madam when speaking to Arianne.
A small thing.
Yet somehow it felt important.
The servant looked uncomfortable.
Almost sympathetic.
That was interesting.
Arianne smiled politely.
“Thank you.”
The woman looked relieved.
Then quickly left.
Arianne frowned.
That reaction was strange.
Very strange.
Almost like the servant expected trouble.
Which probably meant trouble was waiting downstairs.
Wonderful.
Her second day in another world continued to exceed expectations.
Arianne climbed off the bed.
Straightened her clothes.
Then headed toward the door.
The hallway outside was enormous.
Seriously enormous.
The Rowlands were absurdly wealthy.
Paintings lined the walls.
Expensive decorations filled every corner.
Large windows overlooked carefully maintained gardens.
Everything looked perfect.
Beautiful.
Elegant.
Cold.
The mansion didn’t feel like a home.
It felt like a display piece.
A place where appearances mattered more than people.
Arianne walked quietly.
The original memories helping her navigate.
As she moved through the mansion, she noticed something.
Servants.
Lots of them.
And every single one reacted differently when they saw her.
Some looked away.
Some looked sympathetic.
Some looked nervous.
Almost nobody looked surprised.
Arianne’s stomach sank.
That wasn’t a good sign.
Because it suggested today’s meeting wasn’t unusual.
Meaning the original Arianne had probably been called downstairs like this many times before.
And those meetings likely never ended well.
The realization left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Eventually she reached the main staircase.
The grand entrance hall stretched below.
Marble floors.
Crystal chandeliers.
Expensive furniture.
Enough money to buy several farms.
Arianne almost cried.
Imagine being this rich and still making terrible life decisions.
Tragic.
Absolutely tragic.
As she descended the stairs, voices drifted through the hallway ahead.
Three voices.
One male.
One female.
One child.
Arianne immediately recognized them.
Mr.
Rowland.
Mrs.
Rowland.
Fiona.
The atmosphere felt strangely tense.
Arianne slowed her steps.
Not enough to be obvious.
Just enough to listen.
“…sure it was an accident.”
Fiona’s voice.
Soft.
Gentle.
Perfectly innocent.
Arianne immediately became suspicious.
The original memories agreed.
Whenever Fiona sounded this sweet…
Someone else’s life usually became complicated.
Mrs.
Rowland sighed.
“Even so…”
The rest became difficult to hear.
Arianne frowned.
Something was definitely happening.
And somehow…
She doubted it would benefit her.
A servant waiting near the doorway noticed her arrival.
The man immediately straightened.
“Miss Arianne.”
His voice was loud enough for the people inside to hear.
The conversation abruptly stopped.
Silence followed.
Arianne stared at the closed door.
The feeling in her stomach grew stronger.
This wasn’t a family discussion.
This wasn’t a casual meeting.
This felt like something else.
A judgment.
A hearing.
A trial.
And somehow…
Arianne already knew who was standing in the defendant’s position.
The servant pushed open the door.
“Miss Arianne has arrived.”
Every eye in the room turned toward her.
Mr.
Rowland.
Mrs.
Rowland.
Fiona.
The moment their gazes landed on her…
The original memories reacted again.
Anxiety.
Fear.
Resignation.
Not because she expected kindness.
Because she already knew kindness wasn’t coming.
And for the first time since arriving in this world…
Arianne felt genuinely angry.
Not for herself.
For the little girl who had stood here before.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Without anyone standing beside her.
The room was silent.
Too silent.
Arianne stood near the entrance, looking at the people sitting in front of her.
The Rowland Family.
The family that had raised the original Arianne.
The family that should have protected her.
And yet…
The first thing she felt wasn’t warmth.
It wasn’t familiarity.
It wasn’t happiness.
It was tension.
Mr.
Rowland sat at the head of the room.
A serious expression covered his face.
He looked like the kind of person who was respected outside.
A successful businessman.
A wealthy man.
A person who could probably make important decisions without hesitation.
But right now…
He wasn’t looking at Arianne like a father.
He was looking at her like a problem.
Beside him was Mrs.
Rowland.
Her expression was harder to read.
Not angry.
Not cruel.
Just tired.
And then there was Fiona.
Fiona sat quietly.
Hands folded neatly.
Back straight.
A perfect picture of a well-behaved child.
If someone else saw her…
They would probably think:
What a lovely daughter.
Arianne knew better.
Because memories did not lie.
“Come here, Arianne.”
Mr.
Rowland’s voice was calm.
Not gentle.
Arianne walked forward.
She stopped a few steps away.
“What happened?”
She asked.
The question surprised them.
Mrs.
Rowland frowned slightly.
“You don’t know?”
Arianne tilted her head.
“No.”
A small pause.
Fiona looked at her.
A tiny flicker of surprise crossed her face.
Too fast for most people to notice.
But Arianne noticed.
Interesting.
Mr.
Rowland placed something on the table.
A broken crystal.
Even without knowing much about this world, Arianne could tell it wasn’t ordinary.
It gave off a faint magical feeling.
“This was in the training room.”
Mr.
Rowland said.
Arianne waited.
“And?”
His expression changed slightly.
“You were seen near that area.”
There it was.
The accusation.
Arianne almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was predictable.
She had been awake for less than a day.
She had no memories of breaking anything.
She barely understood the house.
And somehow…
She was already suspected.
“What makes you think I broke it?”
Arianne asked.
The room became quiet.
Mr.
Rowland frowned.
“You were there.”
“That doesn’t mean I broke it.”
Arianne’s answer was simple.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Maybe the original Arianne never answered like that.
Maybe she usually lowered her head.
Apologized.
Accepted blame.
But this Arianne wasn’t the same.
She was an adult inside.
An exhausted office worker who had spent years dealing with unreasonable demands.
Being accused without proof?
She had experience with that.
Fiona suddenly spoke.
“Father.”
Her voice was soft.
Everyone looked at her.
“I don’t think Sister did it.”
Arianne narrowed her eyes.
Here we go.
Because she had read enough novels to know.
The most dangerous words were often:
“I don’t think she did it.”
Fiona continued.
“Sister probably didn’t mean to.”
Arianne almost sighed.
There it was.
Not defending.
Not accusing.
Something in between.
A perfect trap.
Because now everyone was thinking:
She didn’t mean to.
Not:
She didn’t do it.
Mrs.
Rowland’s expression softened slightly.
“Fiona, you’re too kind.”
Arianne almost stared.
Too kind?
The girl had just planted suspicion while looking innocent.
That was not kindness.
That was talent.
Fiona looked down..
“I just don’t want Sister to be punished if it was an accident.”
Arianne:
“…”
Amazing.
Absolutely amazing.
If she hadn’t inherited the original memories, she might have actually believed this performance.
But she knew.
Fiona had always been good at this.
Whenever something went wrong…
She appeared innocent.
Whenever Arianne was blamed…
Fiona became the understanding sister.
And somehow…
That made everything worse.
Mr.
Rowland looked back at Arianne.
“Did you enter the training room today?”
Arianne thought.
The answer was probably yes.
The original memories showed she had passed by it many times.
But she didn’t remember today.
“No.”
The answer was honest.
Mr.
Rowland studied her.
“You are certain?”
Arianne frowned.
“Yes.”
A small silence.
Then Fiona spoke again.
“But Sister…”
Arianne looked at her.
Fiona hesitated.
Just for a moment.
“I saw you near there this morning.”
The room changed.
There it was.
Arianne almost smiled.
Not because she was happy.
Because now she understood.
The plan.
Fiona wasn’t trying to prove she broke it.
She was creating doubt.
Arianne was already known as the weak child.
The unreliable child.
The child who caused trouble.
So Fiona didn’t need evidence.
She only needed suspicion.
Arianne looked at Fiona.
The girl smiled sadly.
A perfect expression.
A perfect performance.
“You must have forgotten.”
Arianne stared.
Forgotten?
An adult woman’s memories suddenly mixed with a child’s.
And for the first time…
She understood something.
The original Arianne probably did forget.
Not because she was lying.
Because she was constantly anxious.
Constantly scared.
Constantly trying to avoid trouble.
Fear could make people doubt themselves.
Arianne’s expression changed slightly.
This wasn’t just manipulation.
It was a system.
A family system where everyone already expected the worst from her.
She took a slow breath.
“I don’t remember entering the training room.”
Mr.
Rowland’s face hardened.
“So you admit you might have.”
Arianne stared.
There it was.
The logic.
The kind that made no sense.
“I said I don’t remember.”
“Which means you cannot deny it.”
Arianne was speechless for a second.
Wow.
She had dealt with difficult managers.
But this was impressive.
Before she could respond…
A notification appeared.
Ding.
Arianne froze.
Not now.
Please not now.
The system window appeared.
[Warning.]
Her eyes moved across the screen.
[The First Seed has changed location.]
Arianne frowned.
Changed location?
Then another line appeared.
Distance: 1.8 km
Her heartbeat increased.
The target was moving closer.
Why?
Another notification.
[Target Condition: Critical.]
Arianne’s expression became serious.
Critical?
This wasn’t just someone who might have problems later.
Something was happening now.
Someone was in danger.
“Miss Arianne?”
Mr.
Rowland’s voice pulled her back.
She looked up.
The family was still staring at her.
Still waiting for her answer.
Still focused on a broken crystal.
Arianne suddenly found it strange.
This family was discussing a damaged object…
while somewhere nearby, a person’s life was falling apart.
The difference was obvious.
She looked at Fiona.
The girl was still wearing that innocent expression.
Arianne understood something.
In the original story…
This was probably how everything happened.
Small moments.
Small choices.
Small people being ignored.
Until something became impossible to fix.
The system window flashed again.
[Target Approaching.]
Arianne’s eyes widened.
The number changed.
Distance: 0.9 km
What?
Less than one kilometer?
Another change.
Distance: 0.5 km
Arianne stood frozen.
The First Seed was almost here.
But that was impossible.
The target wasn’t supposed to be here.
Not according to the novel.
Unless…
Arianne slowly realized something.
Her existence had already changed the story.
The future she knew was no longer reliable.
And that was terrifying.
Because she had entered this world thinking she had knowledge.
But maybe…
She didn’t know anything anymore.
The system flashed one final time.
[The First Seed has entered the area.]
Arianne’s eyes moved to the window.
Outside the mansion.
Something had arrived.
Something that should not have been here.
Then the final message appeared.
[Quest Target Located.]
[Target: Unknown.]
Arianne stared.
Unknown?
The system had never shown that before.
And for the first time since waking up…
Arianne felt something she hadn’t felt yet.
Not confusion.
Not frustration.
Fear.
Because whoever this person was…
They were important enough for the system to interfere.
And their future…
Was about to change.