Haechal Orphanage, Age 3 (International Age: 2, 33 months).
Lee Chaeri was wearing her favorite T-shirt, which had a yellow duck printed on it.
Chaeri liked ducks.
Her pants were her absolute favorite: denim overalls. A perfect day.
“Chaeri, from now on, you have to listen carefully to your mom and dad.”
Today was the day Chaeri would get parents.
“Yesh.”
“How’s your hair? Pretty, right?”
Her hair was styled into two Pucca buns, crafted with the skilled hands of veteran childcare worker Kim Myung-ja.
Since she was responsible for too many children, Myung-ja usually had to suppress her desire to do elaborate hairstyles. But today, she poured all her energy into Chaeri.
“It is vewwy pweety, Kim Myung-ja sseon-saeng-nim.”
Myung-ja’s eyes became slightly red with emotion as she gazed at Chaeri.
But the most eye-catching thing about the child was her light pink hair.
With the emergence of Towers and Awakeners, bizarre-looking people were becoming more common, yet pink hair was still incredibly rare.
Just like her hair, Chaeri was a special child.
To put it simply, she was a genius.
She had learned to communicate at just 18 months—an incredibly fast rate for language development.
Now, at just 33 months old, she could already read and write.
Lee Chaeri had broken every record at the orphanage.
She even held the achievement for the earliest potty training.
“Thank you, Kim Myung-ja sseon-saeng-nim.”
Myung-ja gazed at the mature child.
How mature could a three-year-old be?
But from what Myung-ja had seen, Chaeri possessed the composure of at least an elementary school student—probably fourth grade or higher.
“You remember my number, right?”
“Yesh.”
“If anything happens, call me.”
“Yesh.”
The child known as Haechal Orphanage’s genius was already quite adept at using a phone.
A month ago, an anonymous donor had given all the children kids’ phones, which was a relief.
At least, that was the official story.
In reality, Myung-ja had secretly bought one for Chaeri out of her own pocket.
She was worried.
‘They seem like good people, but…’
The adoptive parents seemed perfect on paper.
The soon-to-be father was a famous doctor who had been featured on TV multiple times, and the mother was a stay-at-home mom.
Of course, they had no criminal records.
More than the father being a doctor, what reassured Myung-ja was that the mother was a homemaker.
She would have more time to take care of Chaeri.
Even so, the worry wouldn’t go away.
They would provide a much better environment than the orphanage.
Still, she felt uneasy.
“Do not worry, Kim Myung-ja sseon-saeng-nim.”
Chaeri firmly held Myung-ja’s hand.
“Lee Chaeri is vewwy smart.”
“Yes, you are. You’re a smart and kind child.”
This was evident from her speech.
She had picked up the “Da-na-ka” style of speaking from a military reality show on TV and now used it flawlessly.
There probably wasn’t another three-year-old in the entire country who could master it after watching a show just a few times.
“Kim Myung-ja sseon-saeng-nim, let’s take a picture together.”
“Hmm? A picture?”
Myung-ja was a little surprised.
Haechal Orphanage’s genius, Lee Chaeri, was not very childlike in many ways.
She usually found taking pictures bothersome.
“Yesh.”
Chaeri suddenly looked at Myung-ja suspiciously.
“Do you not know how to take a selfie?”
“Of course, I do!”
Myung-ja quickly wiped away her tears and forced a bright smile.
She grabbed Chaeri’s kids’ phone with one hand and switched to selfie mode.
Then, the tiny girl wrapped her small hands tightly around Myung-ja’s other arm.
Using a voice command, she gave the order:
“Take picchure.”
The kid’s phone, ever loyal, recognized the imperfect pronunciation and obeyed.
Click!
“Take picchure.”
Click!
“Take picchure.”
Click!
“Take picchure.”
Click!
Chaeri kept taking pictures non-stop, still clinging to Myung-ja’s arm.
“Why are you taking so many?”
“Lee Chaeri… is vewwy little.”
“Huh?”
What did being little have to do with taking pictures?
“Kim Myung-ja face… will become blurry.”
At three years old.
This was an age where it was hard to forget someone even if they wanted to.
“Lee Chaeri… will remembuh Kim Myung-ja.”
Myung-ja quietly wiped her tears again.
Chaeri pulled some tissues from the table and handed them to her.
“I am not going far. Still in Seoul. Do not cry.”
“Thank you, Chaeri.”
This child was truly something.
A child who was strangely cynical.
A child who rarely showed emotional ups and downs, making her cutely aloof.
A child who, despite being just four heads tall, sometimes looked as if she had already figured out the ways of the world.
A child who gave subtle yet powerful comfort whenever work at the orphanage became tough and exhausting.
And sometimes, like now, a child who was simply sweet.
“Sseon-saeng-nim must not forget Lee Chaeri. Promise.”
Chaeri held out her pinky finger.
A big and small pinky intertwined.
A very big promise was made.
****
One day earlier.
In the dead of night, while everyone else was sound asleep, Chaeri lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling with alert eyes.
Sigh. Living in a three-year-old body isn’t easy.
Chaeri (age 3) was naturally intelligent, but she hadn’t been born a genius capable of shattering every record at Haechal Orphanage.
The reason she was considered smart was simple—she was a reincarnator.
If I lose focus even for a moment, I start acting like a real toddler.
Her short tongue was proof of that. Her mind and body often felt disconnected.
If she wasn’t extremely careful, she would end up talking like a baby.
By now, she had accepted what she couldn’t control and learned how to balance her stamina and mental energy efficiently.
She had reached the level of exerting just the right amount of intelligence at just the right moment.
In fact, the only reason she used the military-style “Da-na-ka” speech pattern wasn’t because she liked the show Super Soldier, but because speaking that way consumed far less mental energy.
Good thing I still have the mental endurance of a K-exam student.
Before reincarnating, Cha Sung-eun had been a senior in high school.
An orphan who, after losing her parents, had been forced to live with her aunt’s family—constantly walking on eggshells.
It was hell.
It hadn’t always been that way.
Her aunt and uncle weren’t outright villains—just relatives.
There had always been a subtle favoritism toward her cousin, Eun-seok, but Sung-eun had accepted it as something inevitable.
But one day, everything changed.
While playing in a valley, Sung-eun had been caught in a sudden accident.
Her cousin, Eun-seok, had saved her… but in doing so, he had been swept away by the rapids and died.
That was the moment Sung-eun’s personal hell began.
“You killed my son.”
The grief of losing a child turned into anger—directed at Sung-eun.
Already consumed by guilt, believing “It’s my fault he died”, Sung-eun simply accepted their hatred.
Her uncle began to physically abuse her. She often went hungry.
More than anything, she wanted to escape reality.
Her only escape was the world of web novels.
But Sung-eun had no money.
She had no allowance, nor could she get a part-time job.
After Eun-seok’s death, her aunt had fallen into deep depression, and Sung-eun had been left to handle all the housework.
With no money, she had relied on Kakao Page’s “Wait and Read for Free” system to immerse herself in novels.
Whenever she got lucky in an event and earned some cash, she would buy a chapter from her favorite novel.
Rather than reading multiple stories, she had obsessively re-read a single one.
The novel she had read hundreds of times was called “The Ultimate Villain Was a Human.”
I never expected to wake up inside that novel.
She had become Lee Chaeri—a character from The Ultimate Villain Was a Human.
And not just any character.
Chaeri was the final boss—the villain even worse than the main antagonist.
Reincarnating as a novel’s villain? That’s cliché.
But as long as some nonsense like the “Law of Canon Preservation” didn’t force her into a predetermined fate, survival here wouldn’t be too difficult.
She did feel a pang of regret at being an orphan again, but it wasn’t unbearable.
Thanks to Kim Myung-ja, she had experienced an adult’s love for the first time.
That’s enough.
She absentmindedly picked her nose.
My survival strategy is perfect.
Tomorrow was adoption day.
Chaeri was going to a decent household—a couple struggling with infertility.
“Call us Mom and Dad.”
For a while after being adopted, she had received an abundance of love.
The original Lee Chaeri had learned what parental affection felt like during this time.
Her sadness over leaving Kim Myung-ja had faded quickly, replaced by the warm light of family.
But that light had only lasted three months.
“H-Honey… I’m pregnant.”
“Really? You’re pregnant?!”
The couple had conceived their own child.
“What about Chaeri?”
“If we had known, we should have waited a few more months before adopting…”
Regret set in.
For the sake of social appearances, they couldn’t just return Chaeri to the orphanage.
Meanwhile, the baby in the womb continued to grow.
“People say it’s good for a boy to have an older sister.”
“Chaeri is mature and kind—she’ll be great at taking care of the baby.”
Time passed.
Chaeri accumulated countless emotional wounds.
Later, her adoptive father started abusing her.
There had been extenuating circumstances known only to readers of the novel, but the fact remained—Chaeri had suffered deeply.
Her adoptive father had claimed, “I blacked out. I don’t remember anything.”
(And he genuinely didn’t remember.)
Because of that, the matter had been brushed aside.
Instead of blaming her husband, the mother turned her resentment toward Chaeri.
“We should never have taken in someone like you.”
Chaeri had been a victim.
Fifteen years later, for the first time, she had spoken up.
“I didn’t do anything wrong.”
She had even called the police.
That day, Chaeri had become “the most evil girl in the world.”
Her mother had slapped her.
And after enduring everything, she had finally become the novel’s final villain.
Now, the moment had arrived.
“Call us Mom and Dad.”
Her new adoptive parents stood before her.
Wearing her favorite duck-print T-shirt and denim overalls, her Pucca buns (styled by Kim Myung-ja) added to her confidence.
Chaeri’s secret weapon was the deep bow she had learned from Myung-ja.
“Yes! Kim Ha-seon eommoni! Lee Ji-seok abaji! Nice to meet you! I am Lee Chaeri!”
She had made a decision.
I won’t become the villain of this story.
The future from the novel hadn’t happened yet.
Her survival strategy was perfect.
At least, that’s what she thought.
