The question hung heavy in the quiet apartment: What should I do for the audition?
I leaned back in the creaky chair, staring at the ceiling as my mind turned the problem over and over. Singing? Dancing? I had no real talent for either in my old life as Military Park Shiwon. Drills and survival had been my rhythm, not melodies or choreography.
But this body… this new Park Shiwon? I had no idea what hidden skills might be buried in the parts of her consciousness that were slowly merging with mine.
I turned back to the computer and started typing song titles from my past life, hoping something familiar would pop up. After a few tries, I facepalmed hard. 'Right. I'm in another world. A novel world at that. None of my old favorites existed here.'
I switched tactics and simply searched "songs." Dozens of results appeared. I clicked on one at random titled "Goodbye, My Love." The moment I pressed play, a soft piano intro filled the small room, soon joined by gentle acoustic guitar strings.
"Even though I was hurt by the words that you blurt…"
I nodded along as the music continued. It wasn't a bad song at all. The lyrics told a quiet, bittersweet story—two women in a relationship, harsh words leading to a painful breakup. One still carried lingering love, but any chance of reconciliation felt bleak. Hence the farewell. The melody was simple, the emotion raw but not overwhelming. The lyrics were easy to remember, and the beat flowed naturally.
"This could work for an audition," I muttered.
Then doubt crept in. My new voice was undeniably soothing—gentle and clear, like morning dew on petals—but having a pleasant speaking voice didn't automatically mean I could sing. I frowned and replayed the track again and again, listening carefully to the vocal delivery.
After the nth listen, I started humming along under my breath. Surprisingly, it sounded… good. The soft, slightly nasal tone of this body blended nicely with the song's intimate feel. Still, humming in private was one thing. Performing it properly for an audition was another.
I kept replaying the video, committing every line to memory until the lyrics sat firmly in my head. My shoulders grew stiff from leaning forward so long. I twisted my upper body, feeling the satisfying pop of tension releasing, then sighed deeply.
Even if my singing wasn't perfect, I would make it passable. I patted both cheeks with determination. This was my chance to start gathering spiritual power. I couldn't afford to half-ass it.
_+_+_+_+_+_+_
Meanwhile, in another rundown apartment only a few rooms away, a different newly-minted Saintess was spiraling.
"That scheming fox…" the girl with short layered red hair muttered darkly. She ruffled her hair in frustration, pink eyes narrowed at her own reflection. Soft yet defined features stared back—cute, almost doll-like, with a delicate charm that would normally be pleasing. Right now, though, her face was twisted in pure irritation.
At 5'8", she stood noticeably tall for a woman, her height adding an unexpected, striking contrast to her lovable appearance. But her mouth was far from idle.
"Fuck!" she shouted, her low, smooth voice echoing off the thin walls. She didn't worry about disturbing the neighbors—one was an elderly grandma with terrible hearing, and the other was some unknown tenant she had never even glimpsed since moving in.
She slumped onto the floor and hugged her knees tightly to her chest. "That bastard didn't tell me that agreeing to become a Saintess would turn me into a woman!"
Yes, this was Han Seorin—formerly a he, now very much a she. She still couldn't fully process what had happened. She had casually agreed to become a Saintess thinking it would let her do something meaningful with her ordinary life. She never expected the fine print: only females could hold the title, so the contract had rewritten her body on the spot.
She should have seen it coming. These things always happened in the novels she used to read. Why the hell had she fallen for the exact same trick?
It wasn't something she could just shrug off. Her old body—her "little baby maker," as she bitterly thought of it—was gone. The fox spirit (Pam, she had named it) had casually mentioned it could be restored later, but Han Seorin had no idea whether that was a real promise or just bait until the divine fruit was remade. All she knew for certain was that she had to gather fame and spiritual power if she ever wanted any chance of returning to her original form.
And now? How was she supposed to work? Her old IDs and documents were useless… or so she thought.
She pulled out her wallet and flipped it open, wanting to stare at her old male face for a moment of nostalgia. Instead—
"Eh?!" she screamed.
The ID photo staring back at her was the face she had now—the short red hair, the pink eyes, the soft features. Everything else—name, date of birth, address—remained exactly the same. She quickly checked the other cards. All of them had updated to match her new appearance without any gaps.
Han Seorin let out a long, shaky breath of relief. "Ha… at least I don't have to deal with all that tedious paperwork again."
She hugged the wallet and IDs to her chest, then wrapped her arms around herself tightly.
Now the only thing left was to gather enough fame to fulfill her end of the bargain and hopefully get her old body back.