"Umbarabara! Umbarabara! Heed thy call—summon the lost soul back to this land. Umbarabara! Umbarabara!"

Synchronized chants reverberated in the spacious hall. Coco knitted her brows. After being hit by a truck, she opened her eyes for the first time. And when she did, she was taken aback by what welcomed her.

The ground shook at the combination of inaudible chants and strange dances of a group of masked, white-robed men. They stood circularly outside of something that looked like an occult ritual formation.

Leading the ritual was a woman in her twenties, with pixie cut hair. She wore a flamboyant costume that looked like what priestesses from the past might wear.

With convulsing eyes, the priestess chanted, "Umbarabara! Umbarabara!"

Her right hand held a chicken leg and roasted meat on the left. She ate in alternation within each verse of incantation.

“Wow, this scammer is a riot,” Coco felt it was too funny. Could she be more obvious?

‘This is the future of scamming.’

She pitied the sacrifice and wondered who would have such bad luck. She did not wonder for long. Her brain was finally able to process the sensation of itchy, rough ropes that tied her limbs tightly.

Whut.

“I am the sacrifice?!” Wasn’t she run over by a truck? She’s alive?

She looked around and tried to find a familiar figure. But everyone was unfamiliar to her. They don’t look like natives. No, they don’t look normal.

She tried to sound nice, “Just shut up and untie me,” but it did not end well.

The priestess looked terrible as she stared at the center of the formation, ‘Tch. The girl is awake.’

“An unwanted entity was summoned. Quick! Bring out the best ceremonial sacrifices,” she urged the people to bring more meat, “This will be a hard battle.”

“Priestess Sophia, will my daughter be alright?” a gentle lady with brown hair and blue eyes approached the priestess. She clasped her hands tearfully while her husband supported her. The man wore a serious expression, but his emerald-green eyes could not hide his worry.

‘Daughter?’

This couple must have mistaken her for their daughter somehow. Based on their elegant features, even Coco would be ashamed to say she was their daughter.

She was sure she hadn’t met them before. Yet, she had this weird connection with them. A kind of emotional attachment she could not put her finger on.

“If it were any other priestess,” Priestess Sophia sighed exaggeratedly, “I’m afraid you’ll lose your daughter. But fear not, I’m not one of those quacks.”

Coco almost snorted. She admired the priestess’s thick face but she could not swallow being used for personal interests.

Priestess Sophia could have been successful in the scamming industry. Too bad, she messed with the wrong person. She forcefully stopped herself from smirking.

‘You said an unwanted entity was summoned? I will show you what kind of unwanted entity I could be.’

A coarse voice, unbefitting of a girl, escaped from Coco’s mouth, “Puto vos esse molestissimos. Morologus es! (I think that you are very annoying. You’re talking like a moron!)”

She’s not an unwanted entity if she could not even speak Latin. Coco was pleased with herself when she saw the horror on the priestess’s face. Her face was… amusing.

It clearly painted what was on her mind, ‘Did I really summon something I shouldn’t have?’

The priestess turned her gaze to her clients and gulped. Their eyes were full expectations. She bit her lips. She already reached the point of no return. If she stopped, the Duke and Duchess of Alisdair would chase after her head.

Coco saw the strengthening resolve in Priestess Sophia’s eyes. The latter resolutely held another drumstick, “With the power bestowed to me by these ceremonial sacrifices, I exorcise you!”

“Ede faecum! (Eat shit!)” She wiggled around with convulsing eyes to increase the effect. Her wrists hurt the more she moved. The pain made her confirm that she was still alive. Although, with a lot of things, jumbled memories that didn’t even belong to her, in her mind. But because of this crazy ritual, she could not even sort herself.

"Umbarabara! Umbarabara!"

The confrontation was fierce, and she was running out of Latin. In a single breath, she managed to shriek the last bit of Latin curse words she knew, “Faciem durum cacantis habe (You have the face of a man with severe constipation)!”

Coco dramatically looked down on her knees. She raised her head slowly, making the heart of the spectators tighten. They exclaimed in joy when they a pair of clear, emerald-green eyes met theirs.

“Mother? Father?” Her mouth was dry as sand, but she forced herself to speak. She wanted to throw up at her pretentious act.

The priestess completed the ritual and declared, "Our calls were heard! Praise to Umbarabara!"

"Praise to Umbarabara!"

Coco heaved a sigh of relief. Finally.

Her sanity took a toll by being surrounded by crazies.

"Thank you so much, Priestess Sophia," Duchess Suzanne tried to stop herself from crying.

"Not at all," the priestess waved her hands repeatedly. However, her smug face betrayed her humble words, 'Little things.'

Duke Dale motioned his hand, calling the white-haired head butler. In the butler's wrinkly hands was a medium-sized pouch made from high-quality material.

"Accept this small token of gratitude. This might be mere material things in your eyes, but we will be really glad if you accept this."

'Oi, oi. Aren't you confusing your priorities? My limbs are still tied, duh!'

Coco was at loss for words. She had been receiving a lot of plot twists in her life lately.

"How could I accept such a thing?"

'Even if you say that, why are you reaching out for the pouch?'

Coco could not help but roll her eyes. Suzanne incidentally saw that. She cried, "Something is wrong with my daughter!"

"Uhh, you have nothing to worry about, Duchess. It was just a side effect caused by using the one-time ancestral soul summoning heirloom of our esteemed household," Priestess Sophia said with an abnormal level of confidence.

"Reluctantly, we used it. She won't be able to wake up without the one-time ancestral—"

'—soul summoning heirloom of your esteemed household. We get it!'

"Is that so? Alfonse," Duke Corliss called for his butler again, whispering an order.

When Alfonse returned, he was holding a smaller pouch than what he brought a while ago. Although smaller, its quality was undoubtedly higher.

Before Duke Corliss could open his mouth, the priestess grabbed the pouch, "My, my, I am burdened to receive this treasure."

The priestess hurriedly stashed the reward in her satchel, "Farewell, Duke and Duchess Corliss. I and my devoted followers will depart now. We are busy people with a lot of appointments," the crazy priestess hurriedly left with her devoted followers, as if afraid that the duke will reclaim the rewards after some realizations.

Only after they left was Coco finally released from the bindings. She winced as she massaged the marks left on her wrists and limbs.

“Colette, my dear,” Suzanne hugged her tightly. Dale only watched at the side, with eyes that spoke a thousand words.

It warmed her heart and put it on edge the next instant.

“Colette? I’m not Colette,” the next moment, pain assaulted her without warning. She crouched on the floor, leaving the whole mansion in a state of panic.

The jumbled memories from before started to organize themselves in her brain. She was confused. She had two selves? Two vastly different selves.

In her mind, an illusory, yet vivid play unfolded. And she was part of it. Not she, but the other she.

She lived in a large mansion, aesthetically adorned with paintings and sculptures. Everything looked expensive and exuded a noble feeling.

Coco was put in the shoes of the other her. She experienced what the other experienced in the past fifteen years.

From the setting to the people that surrounded her, it only led her to a single conclusion. She transmigrated as Colette Corliss, the villainess of the otome game she used to play.

She could not control her actions. Like a robot, she experienced Colette’s life firsthand. And it was not the kind life she would have led.

Her every action constricted Coco. It was refined, elegant, and not her at all. In fact, it was so unlike Colette’s personality in the game. It made her doubt what she knew.

She clearly remembered what Eva said to her the first time they met in front of a game poster of Heartstrings: Sweet Lullaby. And no matter how long it has been, she could not forget.

“You know, I based Colette’s personality on you.”

Coco just laughed it out, “But today’s the first time we met.”

“Today is the first time you met me. But I already saw you before,” Eva paused, “Among the crowd, your actions are very… distinctive.”

It was one of those writer or designer things. They observe people for inspiration.

“I don’t know how to feel to have a villainess molded after me?”

Eva laughed, “You should be honored. Not everyone gets to be a character model for Madison Soft.”

But, from what she experienced so far, Colette was just another dull girl who followed the handbook of how a noblewoman should act. If she was really living inside the game, she wouldn’t be able to play the role of the villainess.

Soon, the play came to an end.

Coco and Colette. They led very different lives. Coco didn’t know why their lives even intertwined.

The only glaring similarity they had was their lack of abundant friends. But she was luckier because she had Eva. While Colette only had tea party friends—children of lower ranked nobility who smiled at her with ulterior motives.

Oh. They had another glaring difference. She had loving parents, the very parents who called her Colette and stared at her with worried eyes while she crouched on the floor.

She removed her hands from her head. Some memories were still out of place. She had not fully absorbed the huge infodump that always came along with transmigration. It was like cramming all your reviewers for a major exam. But the reviewers were worth fifteen effing years. Transmigrators sure had it rough.

Coco met the eyes of her new parents, as it seemed. They were right, “I am Colette.”

She cast a complicated gaze at the Corliss couple, unable to understand what she was supposed to feel. She clearly loved them, her body does, and she did not like it one bit.

“Can I take a rest?”

She needed a breather. Badly.

The couple’s eyes met. With tacit understanding, they let Alfonse bring Coco to her room.

She sunk on the soft bed and thought back on her past life.

“I think Eva was actually Nostradamus, damn,” her voice held no hint of blame.

She thought that she would have regrets, but there was none. It was as if when she breathed her last on earth, she was also freed from its shackles.

When she died, she saw the flashback of her whole life. She almost thought it was a sitcom. The faces of her ex-family were comedy shows. Damn.

 “I hope Eva won’t mourn for a long time,” she puffed her cheeks indignantly, “But she still has to mourn because I am such a loss, duh.”

Taking over Colette’s body confused her sense of identity. She should do something that would differentiate herself from Colette.

Especially to her new parents. They were radiating with affection that she was not used to, and it bothers her. Because she was not supposed to be the receiver, but the real Colette.

“So, I became a villainess in an otome game, huh?”

There’s nothing to worry about. She can just use her game knowledge to avoid death flags or something, right?

Besides, she's a transmigrator—a winner in life. Recalling the tales of the predecessors she read about in novels, she held a bit of expectation on a promising life ahead. For all she knows, a reverse harem was already waiting for her.

 ‘What could possibly go wrong?’