On the outskirts of the capital, tucked into the quiet mountains, stood a lonely French-style villa.
Elegant.
Luxurious.
And eerily silent.
From the outside it looked like the kind of mansion featured in glossy magazines—arched windows, pale stone walls, ivy curling around the balcony rails.
But tonight, the house felt less like a home and more like a beautiful cage.
Inside the master bedroom on the second floor, Aria Larkspur floated beside an ornate iron bed.
Yes.
Floated.
Because at the moment, Aria did not technically possess a body.
She folded her arms and stared down at the woman lying motionless on the bed.
"…Not bad," she murmured.
Objectively speaking, the girl on the bed was stunning.
Delicate features. Long lashes resting against pale skin. Soft lips that still kept their elegant shape even without color.
Her figure was slender but well-proportioned—every curve balanced perfectly, as if some overly meticulous sculptor had designed her.
In short…
A masterpiece.
Aria tilted her head.
"Well," she muttered smugly, "at least the Bureau didn't give me an ugly body this time."
---
For ten consecutive years, Aria Larkspur had been one of the top agents of the Dimensional Transit Bureau.
Give her a collapsing storyline, a hostile villain, or a broken world narrative—she fixed it all.
Which was precisely why the new director had thrown her into this nightmare of a mission.
A so-called special storyline.
The White Moonlight Project.
It sounded poetic.
Romantic, even.
The task description was ridiculously simple:
Enter each world.
Play the role of the male protagonist's "White Moonlight."
Raise his trust value until the storyline stabilizes.
Easy.
At least that's what Aria had thought when she signed the contract.
Then she saw the mission difficulty rating.
S-Class.
And not just any S-Class.
A legendary one.
The kind of mission that had already swallowed dozens of agents.
The world line was unstable. The protagonists were psychologically… questionable. And the trust values?
Almost impossible to raise.
The Bureau was so desperate that they had offered Aria double the usual bonus to take the job.
Aria had accepted immediately.
Because Aria Larkspur had two defining personality traits.
One: confidence.
Two: an alarming love for money.
---
But right now…
She was stuck as a floating spirit above a hospital bed.
And she hated it.
Aria drifted irritably across the room like a very elegant ghost.
"I hate this stage," she complained.
Her system's lazy voice echoed in her mind.
"Host, please be patient. The body hasn't reached the activation point yet."
Aria rolled her eyes.
"Do you know how vulnerable I am right now?"
As a spirit, she had zero defense.
If someone somehow possessed the ability to harm souls—
Poof.
Mission over.
Agent gone.
Very embarrassing report for the Bureau.
Aria sighed dramatically and floated back toward the bed.
The girl lying there—her temporary body—had been in a vegetative state for two years.
Two years.
Aria leaned closer and studied her own face.
The eyelashes were thick.
The nose straight.
The expression calm and fragile.
"Hmm," she mused. "She looks like me. Maybe… eighty percent."
The system made a mechanical cough.
"Host, you say that every mission."
"Well," Aria said shamelessly, "when you're beautiful, consistency is important."
---
Just as she was about to continue admiring herself—
The system suddenly froze.
Then alarms exploded in her mind.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
"Warning," the system whispered urgently. "Someone is approaching."
Aria frowned.
The bedroom door opened silently.
A man stepped inside.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
His black coat fell perfectly against his frame, his posture straight and controlled.
Even without speaking, his presence carried an overwhelming pressure.
Aria's instincts screamed.
Danger.
Her spirit form stiffened.
Because even in her non-physical state…
She could feel his aura.
And it was terrifyingly strong.
The man walked slowly toward the bed.
His expression was cold, almost indifferent.
He glanced at the unconscious girl on the bed—Aria's body—for barely two seconds.
Then—
Suddenly—
His gaze shifted.
Sharp.
Precise.
Directly toward the spot where Aria's spirit hovered.
Her heart nearly stopped.
Wait.
Wait wait wait—
Can he see me?!
Impossible.
This was supposed to be an ordinary modern world.
No magic.
No spiritual perception.
No supernatural nonsense.
And yet—
The man stepped closer.
Closer.
Closer.
Their faces were now barely two fingers apart.
Aria held her breath.
Her mind raced.
This mission is cursed.
Absolutely cursed.
If someone walked into the room right now, they would see something ridiculous—
A powerful, intimidating man leaning forward…
Staring intensely at empty air.
But Aria knew.
He was looking exactly where she was.
Her pulse thundered.
She didn't dare move.
Didn't dare blink.
Then suddenly—
The system's voice burst through her mind.
"Countdown initiating."
"Three."
"Two."
"One."
"Host may now enter the body."
A glowing red START button appeared in front of her.
Aria slammed it without hesitation.
---
A sharp gasp broke the silence of the room.
The girl on the bed opened her eyes.
Aria Larkspur had returned to the world of the living.
Her lungs burned as she inhaled for the first time in two years.
Her body felt heavy.
Weak.
Dry.
Like a plant that had been forgotten in the desert.
Her throat burned.
"Water," she croaked.
Her voice sounded hoarse and fragile.
But she didn't care.
Water.
She needed water immediately.
Without thinking, Aria grabbed the nearest thing she could reach.
Unfortunately…
That thing happened to be the man's suit jacket.
Her fingers tightened around the fabric.
"Water," she repeated weakly. "Please."
---
The man looked down at her hand.
His eyes were dark.
Unreadable.
Then, without warning, he pulled his sleeve away.
Not violently.
But firmly.
A faint trace of annoyance crossed his expression.
Apparently he didn't enjoy being grabbed.
He walked to the table nearby and poured a glass of water.
Cold water.
Very cold.
He handed it to her without a word.
Aria didn't care about the temperature.
She grabbed the glass with both hands and drank the entire thing in one go.
He watched her quietly.
His gaze was deep and calculating.
Finally he spoke.
"I'll call the doctor."
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
---
Within minutes, the room filled with medical staff.
Machines beeped.
Doctors ran tests.
Aria endured the entire process like a very patient laboratory specimen.
Which was annoying.
Because whenever she asked questions—
No one answered.
They treated her like a decorative prop.
She lay there quietly while her mind raced.
Two years in a coma.
Living in this man's villa.
Constant medical care.
And the male lead of this world…
Her eyes flicked toward the door.
Is him.
Ethan Vale.
Her childhood friend.
Her mission target.
The man who was supposed to see her as his White Moonlight.
---
A while later, Ethan returned to the room.
His footsteps were almost silent.
Aria noticed immediately.
Interesting.
A man with absolute control over the situation…
Yet he still moved like someone who expected danger.
She closed the book that had been placed beside her bed.
Then she looked up.
Her gray-black eyes met his.
A soft smile curved her lips.
Gentle.
Harmless.
"Welcome back," she said quietly.
Her voice sounded warm and sincere.
But inside her mind—
Aria Larkspur was already calculating.
Trust value target: 100.
Current estimate…
Probably negative.
She sighed inwardly.
Great.
First mission in this cursed world…
And the male lead already looks like he might murder me.
Still—
Aria smiled sweetly at him.
After all…
Being someone's White Moonlight required excellent acting.
---