My room was strewn with an assortment of empty alcohol bottles, the acrid scent of stale liquor permeating the air. The dim light cast shadows on the chaotic mess, yet, I lacked the willpower to clean up the broken glass or even rise from my disheveled bed. Time had become a blur, and I couldn't fathom how long I had been trapped in this state of despair.

No amount of liquor could wash away the overwhelming waves of regret and desolation that consumed me. It was a relentless tide that refused to recede, gnawing at my soul unceasingly. But it was too late for regrets now; they served no purpose in the face of my irreversible actions.

As the image of my family flashed in my mind once again, a sob tore its way out of my throat, leaving my breathing labored and heavy. Tears cascaded down my already tear-stained face.

"I'm sorry, Mom, Dad, Brother..."

I cupped my face in my hands and sobbed. But no matter how much I cried or pleaded, they couldn't be brought back to life.

Deep down, I knew it was my fault, my terrible mistake that had caused the accident that stole them from me. Exhaustion weighed me down, both physically and emotionally. Existing felt unbearable, an excruciating pain that seeped into every fiber of my being.

In the midst of my torment, the shrill ring of the phone on my bedside table shattered the silence. It was CEO Martinez, undoubtedly concerned about my well-being. Irritated, I seized the phone and flung it across the room, a release for the mounting frustration and anguish that consumed me.

Time lost its meaning as I succumbed to an endless torrent of tears. Sometime past midnight, drained both physically and mentally, I lay down and closed my eyes, desperately hoping that when I awoke, it would all prove to be nothing more than a cruel nightmare. Oh, how I wished for a chance to see them again, to beg for forgiveness as a remorseful daughter.

In that moment, I would have given anything, even my own life, to be reunited with them. The yearning for their presence burned fiercely within me, a flame fueled by regret and an insatiable desire to make amends.

***

"Do you wish to see your family again?"

A voice, deep and hauntingly detached, echoed through my mind. It seemed almost inhuman, as if emanating from a higher entity... like my CEO. Was I trapped in a dream?

The question lingered, its weight pressing upon me. Was I truly willing to go to any extent to reunite with my loved ones?

Battling exhaustion, I opened my weary eyes—or so I thought. Instead of the familiar sight of my room, I found myself peering into the depths of my own consciousness.

All of a sudden, a glowing blue window screen materialized before me. It took a while for me to recognize what it was. Memories of the countless isekai novels and system-themed comics I had devoured in my youth stirred within ne. In those stories, protagonists on the verge of death would be granted a reprieve in the form of a "status window," bestowing them with new opportunities, skills, and powers.

Yet, my circumstances diverged from theirs. I had already achieved almost everything I desired in life—wealth, prestige, and a coveted position as a director in a multinational company. I owed my success to the tireless efforts of my parents and my own relentless drive. No cheats or shortcuts had propelled me here, just the sacrifices of those who loved me and my unwavering dedication.

I loved my job, I loved the company I was working in, I loved my boss. But in pursuit of the things I loved, I had abandoned the people who loved me – the very people who got me where I was in life.

Weary, I gazed at the luminous window screen before me, its words blazoned in bold, white letters: DO YOU WISH TO MEET YOUR FAMILY ONCE AGAIN?

A wry laugh escaped my lips. Dreams, they say, are manifestations of our deepest thoughts and desires. Had my younger self yearned for an isekai adventure with a system? Perhaps. It seemed my dream was a fusion of past and present desires, a bittersweet concoction.

What a strangely pleasant dream it was.

But it couldn't hurt to entertain it, could it?

"Yes," I answered silently.

In an instant, my surroundings shifted. Suddenly, I found myself seated at my office desk, dressed impeccably in formal attire. My long, black hair was neatly tied back into a ponytail. Night had fallen, the window blinds drawn, and the office lights extinguished. The only illumination came from the glowing window screen, casting an ethereal glow upon my surroundings.

Though initially taken aback, I swiftly regained my composure. A surge of vitality coursed through me, reminiscent of the days before the crushing news of my family's demise. It was as if the lingering effects of my binge-drinking had vanished. I could feel the chair beneath me, the cool touch of the glass on the table. This dream felt incredibly vivid, almost tangible.

Once again, the blue window materialized before me.

A sense of urgency washed over me as a new message appeared in bold capital letters: "TIME IS RUNNING OUT..."

"Is this dream coming to an end soon?" I asked, propping my head lazily on my hands, refusing to take this surreal experience seriously.

'The Keeper of the Underworld is waiting for you...' the voice responded, its detached tone evoking a shiver down my spine.

"You mean I'm dead?" I replied, a furrow forming on my brow. This dreamlike scenario felt both unsettling and strangely amusing.

The message shifted, transforming into a new sentence: "DO YOU WANT TO MEET YOUR FAMILY?"

Naturally, the answer was a resounding yes. Yet, the whole situation appeared dubious to me.

'Complete the missions assigned to you, and you'll have the chance to meet your family,' the voice conveyed.

"What kind of missions?" I inquired, clasping my hands together. "Please don't tell me I have to reincarnate as a young noblewoman in a fantasy world and capture love interests." A hint of amusement tinged my voice.

'Close,' the voice responded tersely.

"Fine," I replied, determination lacing my words. "I'll undertake those missions, but only if it means reuniting with my family."

With the vanishing of the previous message, a lengthy scroll unfurled before me, towering in height. A feather pen hovered nearby, as if eager for my signature. 

"Please sign the contract to officially become an agent of the Great Librarian. You'll carry out missions on their behalf. Just in case you are wondering, both the blue screen and this voice are my manifestations," the detached voice echoed in my mind once again.

Rising from my chair, I approached the scroll, carefully taking hold of its weight. Written in intricate, small letters of some archaic font, the scroll presented an overwhelming list of conditions. It shifted in my grasp, adjusting to display the segment I wished to read. At the end, I caught a glimpse of the number "777."

"Wait, why are there 777 terms and conditions? Not to mention, I can barely read a single letter." I said.

'If you're truly willing to do anything for your family, these conditions shouldn't pose a problem. Remember, time is running out,' the voice coolly responded.

The convoluted terms and conditions, intentionally designed to confuse and complicate matters, coupled with the urgency of time running out only heightened my suspicion. Even without reading a single line, I could sense the sketchiness of this contract.

"So, you mentioned a keeper of the underworld... Does that mean I'm dead?" I inquired.

'Yes, you succumbed to alcohol poisoning approximately 2 and a half minutes ago,' the voice confirmed.

"Then hurry up and transport me to the underworld so I can be reunited with my parents and brother," I pleaded, a hint of tears threatening to resurface. Clenching my teeth, I fought to contain my emotions.

"In the underworld, no one retains their memories. Upon crossing into that realm, all recollections vanish. Memories bring longing, and longing brings pain. The deceased do not feel pain," the voice explained.

"How, then, will you help me see my family?"

'Once you accumulate 7000 points, you will be able to return to your world, to the timeline of your choice. If you wish, you can return to a time when your family was alive,' the voice elucidated.

"What if you're lying? How can one simply turn back time?" I voiced my skepticism.

"Refer to Point 177 of the contract," the scroll responded, seamlessly adjusting its position to display the requested information. Squinting my eyes, I read the words:

The Grand Librarian shall never lie to their agent under any circumstance. However, they retain the right to withhold information at their discretion.

So many questions remained unanswered. Missions? Points? Who exactly was this Grand Librarian? None of it made sense. Before I could voice my doubts, the voice interjected.

"Everything will be explained in due time. You have three seconds to sign."

After all, this was likely just a dream, a fleeting three-minute reverie. And if, for some inexplicable reason, it wasn't merely a whimsical manifestation of my desires, I should be grateful for the opportunity to reunite with my family, however slim the chance. Without hesitation, I seized the feather pen and signed the contract.

Little did I know what I had gotten myself into.

***

I opened my eyes, greeted by the stunning sight of a crimson canopy above me. Slowly, I sat up, taking in my surroundings. Luxurious red silk curtains enveloped the bed on all sides, their soft texture inviting my touch. The faint scent of lavender wafted through the air, a gentle reminder of serenity amidst the unfamiliar.

"Where on earth am I?" I muttered to myself, the throbbing pain in my head grounding me in reality. This was no dream. Memories flooded my mind, but they weren't my own. I clutched my head, wincing as a flurry of images clashed within me, merging my memories with those of another person.

'Agent, please remain calm and allow the information to integrate. Your mind will adjust soon enough,' a cool, genderless voice echoed in my head, its familiarity both soothing and unnerving.

I took a deep breath, attempting to steady myself amidst the chaos. The voice persisted, cutting through the confusion. "Good morning, Agent. Your first mission has begun."

Agent? Mission? It rang a bell. Fragments from the previous night started to piece together, confirming that the strange events I experienced were indeed real.

With a determined resolve, I pulled the string nearby, parting the curtains to reveal a dimly lit room. A solitary candle cast a faint glow, perched upon a small bedside table, barely illuminating my surroundings.

The voice continued, 'Agent, you can communicate with me through your thoughts. When you wish to initiate contact, simply call out to me. Otherwise, I won't be able to respond. My own initiation will be rare.'

"Does that mean you're only active when I reach out?" I asked, cautiously making my way toward the flickering candlelight, my gaze fixated on a tall mirror adorning the adjacent wall.

'Yes, something along those lines. However, I'm not entirely dormant when we're not in communication. You'll come to understand more about this later,' the System replied.

"So, you only access my thoughts when we're actively communicating?" I clarified, lifting the candlestand and approaching the mirror.

'Exactly. It aligns with Point 200 of the contract you signed, ensuring the Agent's freedom of thought and expression. I won't intrude on your mind outside of our interactions,' the System assured me, prompting a sigh of relief to escape my lips.

"Agent, are you prepared to receive the mission's details?" the voice inquired.

"Wait," I interrupted, captivated by the reflection staring back at me from the dimly lit mirror. Through the soft candlelight, I beheld the image of a teenage girl with short, wavy pink hair and piercing blue eyes. Her petite frame and delicate features exuded a sense of familiarity.

"Wait, she is..." I muttered, my mind racing to make the connection. This girl, I had seen her countless times before. She was a recurring character in the comics I avidly devoured, an easily identifiable 3D asset utilized by artists for background scenes. Her signature pause and presence were etched into my memory.

I extended the fingers of my left hand and tilted my head to the right, as if engaging in conversation with another person. The resemblance was undeniable. I had indeed taken on the body of the 3D asset girl, forever caught in the act of gossiping at extravagant parties.

"System, are these memories I received earlier hers?" I pondered aloud, returning the candlestand to its rightful place before retracing my steps to the bed.

'Yes,' the System confirmed. "You will gradually gain access to the host's memories within the next hour."

"So, I truly transmigrated into someone else's body," I mused, a pang of guilt tugging at my conscience. Despite her digital origins, she was undeniably a person belonging to this world, with loved ones and a life of her own.

"Now, this body is yours," the System declared. "You are Maxine Sinclaire Ashbourne, the eldest child of Earl Ashbourne, aged 20."

"Sinclair Ashbourne?" I asked, perplexed by the discrepancy in surnames. "Is Sinclaire her mother's maiden name?"

"It is not," the System clarified. The misalignment of names was likely an odd coincidence. Sensing that the System wouldn't provide a direct answer, I decided to table further inquiries for now.

"But why a 3D asset of all people?" I asked, a little disappointed. It would have been thrilling to possess a villainess like those favored by isekai protagonists.

With a resigned sigh, I thought to myself, 'Oh well, beggars can't be choosers.'

"There are various reasons for that," the System responded promptly. "However, I urge you to focus on the task at hand. Agent, are you ready to receive the details of the mission?"

"Yes," I nodded resolutely.