Felis had to be hospitalized for an unpredictable amount of time. The doctors and mages tried their best to restore his magic core, but it seemed impossible. I read about the forbidden magic he used—there are only two recorded survivors of it. Most who attempt it lose their lives, or at the very least, a significant part of their bodies.

A magic powerful enough to erase everything in its path, but at the cost of all mana and life force—it's the ultimate sacrificial spell. Surviving such a spell would have meant Felis had the potential to become one of the rare 12-cycle mages, the pinnacle of magic mastery. And yet, he lost it all in a single tragic incident.

I wouldn't say it's my fault; this was the magical equivalent of a random road crash in the modern world—a disaster that no one could have foreseen. My family promised to compensate him, but it weighs heavy on us. My father has been restless ever since learning Felis lost his magic. He blames himself for ever letting us go into the forest that day.

Then, I recalled something the god said: "Things happen because they must happen." That quote only irritated me more. After everything—the dragon, Felis's sacrifice—where was the cheat skill I was supposed to have? Nothing had manifested, not even now.

I finally calmed myself down after a few days and began studying magic on my own again. As I practiced, I made a strange discovery: I could copy and paste magic cycles and move them freely. And it didn't even cost me any mana. This newfound ability allowed me to cast spells faster, bypassing the need to assemble the magic cycle manually each time. All I had to do was copy an existing one I had used before. Perhaps this was my cheat skill after all.

And I thought my day would pass peacefully. One day, a noble family came to visit our house. At first, I thought it was just another random noble visit—nothing special. But I was wrong. So, so wrong. I tried to keep my composure, to be kind and respectful, but these people were so unbelievably annoying that I found myself wanting to burn them alive. The urge to make them scream in agony clawed at me.

When they arrived, I walked alongside my parents to greet them, but they completely ignored us, walking past as if we were invisible. My eyebrow twitched. They sat themselves in the guest room without waiting for an invitation and had the audacity to spit out the food we served them.

"Ew, what is this slop? Pig food! Bring us something better!" one of them sneered, their voice dripping with disdain.

I could feel the vein on my forehead threatening to burst. What the actual hell were they? Not to be rude, but they were the ugliest people I'd ever seen in both of my lives. I mean, seriously, even a certain infamous mukbang guy I remembered from my past life looked better than these snobby ingrates.

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Their appearance was almost comical. The father was round like a giant ball, the mother was stick-thin, and the two kids... I couldn't even describe them properly. Was I hallucinating?

I thought they'd leave once we served them the food they wanted—food so expensive I hadn't even tasted it since coming to this world. Clearly, their status was high, and my parents were still doing their best to be polite.

Then came the bombshell: they wanted to stay for a whole week. A whole week, because of some rumor about a dragon roaming nearby. They could have easily taken the kingdom's safer route. It was the most secure path in the entire continent! But no—they wanted to inconvenience us.

We offered them the guest room, which was more than big enough for five people. But of course, they rejected it. They demanded separate rooms for each of them. In the end, I had to give up my room, and my father had to give up his. Now, my entire family would be squeezed into my mother's bedroom for a week.

As if that wasn't enough, the first night was chaos. Every time they heard an animal sound from outside—whether it was a bird or a fox—they screamed like banshees, running around the house in a panic. One week of this? There was no way I could survive.

That chaotic night, despite everything, I somehow managed to fall asleep. And then I had a dream. It was that familiar white room again.

Sitting on a couch was the so-called god. The same one who threw me into this world. He looked up and casually poured tea into a cup as I approached him.

"How's your new life?" he asked, his tone far too casual for my liking.

"Are you kidding me?" I snapped.

He raised a finger, wagging it playfully. "Oy, remember, things happen because they must happen. At least this time, you're not the victim. I literally can't control fate, you know?"

"Why... why didn't you give me my cheat?" I demanded. The frustration I'd been bottling up all came spilling out.

He sighed, taking a sip of his tea before answering. "The current you wouldn't be able to use it. I'm not bluffing—you'd die instantly if you tried. It's not even a combat cheat, for that matter."

I stared at him, confused and angry. "Then when can I use it?"

He set the cup down with an exasperated look. "Why are you so fixated on this cheat? Why not search for your true identity?"

"What? I'm the daughter of a baron. I don't have any special skills or anything like that. What am I supposed to be searching for?"

He shrugged, leaning back into the couch. "If that's how you see yourself, then fine. But anyway, time's up. Something big is about to happen. Be prepared."

I reached out, desperate for answers. "Please, don't riddle me! Just tell me—"

But before I could finish, everything faded, and I woke up.

"Sigh..."