Chapter 1. 

A Dream Come True—Now with Memes

---

When I opened my eyes, the first thing that popped into my head was:

I fell asleep on my manga again…

Well, what else could possibly explain a wooden ceiling, the smell of hay, and a prickly mattress trying to turn my back into a hedgehog’s armor?

I even snorted, amused, until I turned my head—and noticed that the leg poking out from under the blanket was definitely not mine.

First off, it was way too pale. Second, way too skinny. Third… was that even my leg?

I waved my foot in the air, just to check. The foot obediently waved back. Suspicious.

Okay. Deep breath, Saya, this is just… oh, hell, I have no idea what this is. Where am I? Who am I? And why does my forehead hurt so much?

The more I tried to calm down, the more I started to panic.

Trying to get my bearings, I attempted to get up, but that turned out to be way harder than expected.

I managed to sit up, nearly getting tangled in what passed for a nightgown—a piece of cloth that wrapped around my legs like a boa constrictor playing "guess who’s dinner."

My gaze fell on a small mirror leaning against the wall.

Looking back at me was a girl of about sixteen, with chestnut hair, a dazed expression, and a massive lump on her forehead.

Well, that explains the throbbing pain—feels like someone opened a portal to hell right in my skull.

“So, Saya, let’s think: where are you and why do you look like this?”

I tried to remember last night. I vaguely recalled a late-night isekai manga binge. And… that’s it.

So much for logic. Which means: this is a dream. The only ray of hope here is that I might still be asleep.

Great, I’m in an isekai dream. I said aloud, trying to convince myself, and mentally added:

Just not a harem, please… I even clasped my hands in prayer, just in case any deity was listening.

I glanced again at my reddened forehead and that lump.

Conclusion: someone hit me with something. The question is—why? And can I sue in a dream court?

I tried to recall anything from this body’s past, like they always do in isekai stories. But… nothing. Only my own memories.

Of course. I didn’t win the transmigration lottery. No starter pack, no cheat codes—classic.

Deciding to play along for the sake of survival, I headed to the dresser and pulled out something that looked suspiciously like a maid uniform.

“If this really is a maid outfit… my condolences to everyone forced to wear this.”

The clothes were so worn out they looked like they’d been stolen from a scarecrow, forgotten in the rain, and never ironed. Dirty, wrinkled, and with a suspicious smell.

I glanced around the room and realized it looked more like a storage closet. Or maybe a rental locker with the vibe of "someone definitely lived—and died—here."

Thick dust, foggy windows, a single wall lamp with a faintly glowing crystal as the only light source.

Furniture? A bed (if you can even call it that), a tiny wardrobe (almost my height), a cracked mirror, a desk buried under a century of dust, and a single, lonely chair.

No books, no curtains, no carpet, not even a trash can.
Nothing. Nada.

Well, now I know for sure—I got isekai’d, but without the promo code or starter bonus,

I thought gloomily, tying a belt around my waist that looked more like an angry reptile having a bad day.

That’s when someone knocked on the door.

“Mira, are you planning to sleep the whole day away?” came an irritated voice.

“Just because you got hit with a teapot by mistake doesn’t mean you can skip work!

Mira—that must be this body’s name. Perfect. Better remember that before I get fired… or burned at the stake.

Wait. Did she just say—hit with a teapot?!

Resolutely, I opened the door.

Standing there was a maid with a stone-cold face and a uniform that looked leagues better than my ragged tragedy.

“If you’re up on your feet, go to Miss Evelyn’s room. You know you’re the only one allowed in her chambers.”

With that, she left, leaving me stunned.

What do you mean I’m the only one allowed in her chambers…?

Naturally, my first reflex was to think of something dirty.

But I quickly shook my head to banish that idea, as if trying to delete a virus from my brain.

No perverts, no harems, no fanservice… please, at least for the first week.

Slightly recovered, I glanced in the direction the maid had gone, when I was hit with a sudden realization:

“Wait… where am I even supposed to go?!