The moment the other person looked her way, Freya felt every hair on her body stand on end.
A primal fear surged from the depths of her being, as if a voice inside her was screaming, Run!
Run now!
The sensation was like a mouse spotting a cat or a rabbit seeing a snake—an instinct etched into the deepest recesses of her genes, a visceral dread of predators.
It was precisely this fear that drove small creatures to flee instantly, thereby maximizing their chances of survival.
Yet humanity’s greatest evolutionary triumph lies in its ability to suppress primal instincts with reason, to consciously override its innate impulses.
Freya swallowed hard and forced herself to keep moving forward.
After all, she was only in a simulation.
Even the worst outcome—dying prematurely—wouldn’t matter much.
“Hey, you!
What are you doing lurking around my place?” Freya lowered her voice as much as possible, but its natural timbre betrayed her lack of intimidation.
Instead of sounding menacing, she resembled a hissing kitten, all puffed up but harmless.
But the “pervert” acted as if he hadn’t heard Freya’s words.
He staggered forward like a drunken man, swaying from side to side as he lurched toward her, muttering something strange.
Because of the distance and his soft voice, Freya couldn’t make out what he was saying.
She frowned, her right palm gripping the Revolver slick with sweat, but she didn’t stop, continuing her advance as if they were both rushing toward each other.
When they were only two steps apart, the “pervert” reached out his right hand, seemingly trying to grab the girl before him.
But Freya reacted swiftly.
She drew the Revolver, gripped it with both hands, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.
As it was her first time firing a gun, with no prior training, her aim was bound to be poor.
But at such close range, precise aiming wasn’t necessary.
Bang!
The crisp gunshot echoed through the deserted street.
Even though she had braced herself, Freya’s ears rang, and her wrists went numb.
The gun shop owner hadn’t lied—this weapon packed a serious punch.
Visibly, the front of the stalker’s shirt was rapidly staining crimson.
A normal person taking a bullet to the gut would likely be clutching their stomach, writhing on the ground and groaning in agony.
Yet, bizarrely, this man seemed utterly unfazed, his right hand continuing forward to clamp down on Freya’s shoulder.
“Hiss~”
It was Freya who gasped sharply instead, her shoulder feeling as if it were being crushed in a vise, the pain excruciating.
“How can this guy be so strong?!”
She swiftly raised her pistol, aiming for his head this time.
But as she did, a white blur flashed past, followed by a piercing pain in her wrist.
A long, bony tail with distinct segments had emerged from the stalker’s back, its tip ending in a sharp, curved bone spur.
This spur had pierced Freya’s wrist.
At the same moment, she finally deciphered what the stalker was muttering:
“So fragrant…
so hungry…”
What kind of monster is this?!
Freya’s eyes widened in disbelief.
No normal person could shrug off a gunshot to the abdomen like it was nothing, and who has a tail growing out of their rear end?!
Freya had initially believed that the world she’d transmigrated to was a perfectly ordinary one, save for its slightly outdated technology.
Now, it seemed she was wrong.
As she stood frozen in shock, with a ‘thwip’ sound, the tailbone retracted rapidly and then thrust forward again, piercing her chest.
The speed was blindingly fast—too fast for her to even see, let alone react.
Freya clenched her jaw, frantically chanting in her mind, “End Simulation!”
Instantly, the entire world seemed to freeze as if a pause button had been pressed.
Freya herself felt like someone who had been holding their breath underwater for far too long, finally surfacing for air.
She threw her head back and instinctively gasped for breath.
Huff…
Huff…
But what greeted her wasn’t the night street or that strange pervert, but rather her laptop on the desk and the streaks of sunlight filtering through the window.
This was precisely the moment she had first transmigrated, the starting point of the simulation.
The events that had just transpired felt like a dream, but after a moment to catch her breath, Freya glanced at the System Page displayed before her and knew it was no mere dream.
Simulation complete.
Duration: 15 hours.
Save this save slot?
A small window appeared before Freya, displaying a 3D avatar: a miniature, meticulously wrapped-up version of herself, complete with goggles, a mask, and gloves.
The avatar bore visible wounds on its wrists and chest, from which blood dripped steadily.
This was undoubtedly an unsuccessful save slot.
Even if she saved it and summoned the avatar, the injuries were so severe that it likely wouldn’t survive long without immediate medical attention.
But how could Freya possibly take another version of herself to the hospital?
Her gaze initially lingered on “Don’t Save,” but a sudden realization prompted her to decisively select “Save.”
Choose save slot location: 00, 01
Obviously, she’d choose 01.
Overwriting 00 would be suicidal.
Freya rose and went to the bathroom.
As she stared at the System Page, she mentally commanded, “Summon save slot 01.”
In the next instant, a black figure materialized a meter in front of her.
Freya felt her vision split in two—one soul, one will, simultaneously controlling two bodies.
To be honest, this feeling was quite novel.
But the novelty didn’t last long.
Both Freyas exclaimed almost simultaneously, “Hisss, it hurts, it hurts…!”
Freya 01 swiftly tossed the revolver in her hand onto the floor, then dropped the bullet box from her belt and the money-filled satchel slung across her back.
Once she’d done all that, the original Freya quickly ordered, “Recall the Save Slot!
Hurry!”
And just like that, her other self vanished into thin air before her eyes, leaving behind only the weapon, the money, and a few drops of blood on the floor.
When she’d been observing the 3D avatar earlier, Freya had noticed that all her possessions were carried on her body.
So she’d wondered if she could “withdraw” them into reality—and to her surprise, it had actually worked.
First, she cleaned up the bloodstains in the bathroom and secured the revolver.
Finally, she opened the satchel.
In the simulation, she’d borrowed 100,000 Ducats from Brother Scar and spent 54,000 on the gun, leaving her with 46,000 Ducats.
Compared to her original 3,000 Ducats, this was more than fifteen times her previous wealth.
“With this, I’ll never have to worry about money again!”
After all, if I ever need cash, I can just enter the simulation, borrow money from Brother Scar, and withdraw it.
Brother Scar, you’re a true saint!
Having realized this, Freya began to recall that strange ‘stalker’.
She returned to her bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed, crossed her legs, and rhythmically tapped her cute little slippered feet against the floor, making a tap-tap sound.
Without a doubt, that ‘stalker’ is likely the ‘death crisis’ looming three days from now.
Perhaps he’s been lurking outside for too long and will finally lose control, burst into my home, and…
devour me?
It’s worth noting that this ‘devouring’ is meant literally.
“Moreover, his demeanor was clearly not that of a normal person.
Does this world possess some kind of supernatural power?” As this thought occurred to Freya, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement.
After all, having transmigrated to another world, who wouldn’t fantasize about acquiring god-like abilities, capable of reshaping reality and doing whatever they pleased?
“I need to figure out the truth behind this supernatural power.”
As she pondered, Freya glanced at the System Page.
A countdown timer showed “59 minutes remaining” under the “Start Simulation” button.
The cooldown period for simulations wasn’t surprising; what was odd was how short it was.
Could it be because my last simulation was so brief?
After all, I only lived for 15 hours.
With an hour to spare, Freya went to wash up and fix her hair.
As she considered what hairstyle to choose, she hesitated.
The original owner had poured all her energy into studying and working, barely managing to stay afloat.
She had no time for personal grooming.
In Freya’s memories, the original owner either wore her hair loose or in a simple ponytail—nothing more.
As for her previous life, she had no memories of “herself” at all, let alone any knowledge of hairstyles.
But…
now that she was so adorable, wouldn’t it be a waste not to dress up a little?
Now that she had resolved her immediate life-threatening crisis, with the System’s support and ample funds, Freya was determined to enjoy life and find ways to live more joyfully.
After taking a quick look around her small rented apartment, she realized there wasn’t a single mirror.
This made it impossible to practice hairstyling.
“Oh well, I’ll just leave it for now.
I’ll buy a mirror later when I have time and practice slowly then.”
After taking care of her personal hygiene, Freya went out for breakfast, ordering the exact same meal she had eaten in the simulation because she found it quite tasty.
During her meal, she spotted the two Blondies who worked for Brother Scar again.
This time, however, she ignored them completely and focused on her own business.
By the time Freya returned home, exactly one hour had passed (though she had been occasionally glancing at the System’s countdown).
Standing at her doorstep, she silently murmured, “Start Simulation, select Save Slot 00…”
The familiar sensation of diving underwater washed over her once more.
The moment Freya opened her eyes again, she immediately sprang into action.
Given the existence of supernatural powers in this world, it’s logical to assume there must be official organizations dedicated to combating supernatural creatures.
Otherwise, wouldn’t those perverted monsters be free to devour people in the streets, turning the world into their personal all-you-can-eat buffet?
Therefore, Freya’s plan was to call the police!
She hoped to avoid this life-threatening crisis while simultaneously gaining insights into the truth of this world and the nature of these supernatural forces.
Drawing on the memories of the original host, Freya quickly located the nearest police station.
Just as when she had sought a loan from Brother Scar earlier, she didn’t need to feign much.
By simply lowering her head and softening her voice, she could easily project the image of a pitiful, bullied kitten.
Sure enough, the moment she walked in, the two officers in the station’s main hall immediately approached her, asking, “What seems to be the problem?”
Freya replied, “I…
I suspect I’m being stalked by a strange man…
For several days now, I’ve been hearing strange noises near my house.
And just last night, around ten o’clock, I glanced out the window and suddenly saw someone standing outside…”
The two police officers exchanged a glance.
While such peeping incidents weren’t particularly rare, they were notoriously difficult to handle.
Even if the police apprehended the perpetrator, if the suspect flatly denied it—claiming they were just passing by and hadn’t been peeping at all—the lack of cameras or other evidence in this era meant the officers had no choice but to release them.
Moreover, these voyeurs were merely peeping from a distance; they weren’t breaking into homes to rob or murder, posing no real threat.
As a result, the police generally ignored such cases.
One of the officers reassured Freya, “It’s alright, it’s alright.
Just have your dad lock the doors and windows tightly at night and draw the curtains.
These types are usually cowards—they only dare to watch, never to do anything more extreme.”
Freya shook her head.
“I don’t have a dad…”
“Oh…” The officer paused, taken aback.
“What about your mom?
Have her invite some friends over to stay for a while.
You won’t be so scared with more people around.”
Freya replied, “I don’t have a mom either…”
This was the truth.
The original owner of Freya’s body had grown up in an orphanage and never knew her parents.
“Ah…
well…” The police officer opened his mouth, looking at Freya, who had been keeping her head down the whole time, her mood seemingly very low.
He murmured, “I should just die…”
“Yeah,” the other officer chimed in.
“You really should just die.”
If it were a family of three, peeping Toms would likely hesitate to escalate their behavior.
But if this young girl lived alone, she was in grave danger.
As the officers pondered this, Freya continued, “And…
and I don’t think he’s human.
He looked so terrifying!
In the dark, his eyes glowed red, and he had a white bony tail behind him!”
At this, both officers froze.
One asked, “Little girl…
are you absolutely sure you didn’t missee anything?”
Freya insisted, “I’m absolutely certain!
If you don’t believe me, come to my house tonight.
He’ll definitely be back!”