I swear, these aren’t a corpse’s eyes—they’re still moving!

The moment those eyes opened, they locked onto me—or rather, my face, which was way too close. Then they widened in pure terror.

She scrambled backward, utterly shaken, and pushed herself up off the floor, one finger jabbing at me, her pupils trembling uncontrollably.

“Y-you! Who are you?!”

Is this really me?

Yes, the face and body matched mine exactly, but the aura had shifted. I couldn’t pinpoint what felt off, but it just wasn’t *me*. What truly unsettled me was the voice. My once-boyish tone now sounded neutral—thinner, sharper.

No, nothing about this felt right.

“I” seemed to notice the strangeness too. She stood, examining her hands, her clothes, then touched her newly shortened hair before glaring at me.

With gritted teeth, “I” sounded furious.

“Who are you?! Why are you inside my body?!”

“What? Your body?!”

I flinched back, scrambling upright from the floor.

*Your body. Your body.*

That meant the person inside my body right now was—

“No… way! This is *your* body?”

“Of course it’s mine!”

“Then you’re…”

Black eyes fixed on me, cold as ice. “Eunice.”

I sprang to my feet and bolted.

No kidding—I had to run now. Eunice had already killed me once. If she realized I’d stolen her body, she’d kill me again. I wasn’t reliving that nightmare.

“Stop right there!”

I ignored her shout, sprinting for the door, praying it would open.

Maybe I ran too fast. Maybe I wasn’t used to these clothes. Or maybe panic tripped me—I face-planted flat on the ground with a humiliating thud. My arms stung from the fall. I tried to push up and run again, but a hand clamped my shoulder, slamming me back down.

The one pinning me was “me”—Eunice, to be precise, wearing my body.

That familiar-yet-alien face held an expression I’d never seen before: all warmth stripped away, leaving only icy detachment.

My body no longer looked like my old self. It resembled a gender-neutral girl stuffed into boy’s clothes, stained with my dried blood.

Honestly, it was hard to tell if “he” was a tomboyish girl or a delicate cross-dresser—just a weird vibe from the shifted aura.

Eunice’s voice, compared to my old one, was distinctly thinner, colder.

“Talk. Who are you.”

Her gaze was terrifying. Anyone finding their body hijacked wouldn’t stay calm. I avoided staring into “my own” eyes.

I forced my head up. Her eyes mirrored that moment when she’d accused me of stealing the sword—pure murder in their depths.

She was probably thinking *kill him, kill him, kill him*.

“I-I’m…”

I stumbled over the words.

“Get out of my body now!”

Her voice shook with rage, those black pupils sharp as knife points. “Give me back my body. And who *are* you?”

I had to explain. An enraged Eunice might kill me—would I even revive again? I wasn’t risking it.

I steadied my breath. “I’m the original owner of this body you’re in.”

Though she pinned me in a “ground-dong” pose, she kept her distance, protecting her stolen form.

“Original owner? Truth?”

My explanation cooled her slightly. She released my shoulder and sat back, still eyeing me with frost.

“Absolutely true.”

I rubbed my sore shoulder and sat up, tugging at the black dress. It felt alien.

“Don’t touch it.”

I jerked my hand away.

Eunice leaned closer, voice low. “Want to live? Keep your hands off—everywhere.”

I nodded frantically.

She pressed, “Why run?”

“You’d kill me.”

“Did I say that?”

“Seriously? You already killed me once.”

Her eyes turned glacial, drilling into mine.

“So you *are* that despicable thief?”

“Thief? I just pulled out that iron sword—and I gave it back!”

“That’s the Demonic Sword Talcaros. Not an iron sword.” Eunice corrected sharply. She stood, scanning the room, but the sword was gone.

She sat facing me again, her expression darkening. “Where’s the Demonic Sword?”

“Demonic Sword? I returned it to you.”

“You’re lying!”

Her anger flared. She lunged, slamming me down again.

Even in the witch’s body, I had no strength—just an ordinary girl now.

Though she pinned me, Eunice still kept her distance. She was fiercely guarding her body, refusing to let even my hijacked form touch it.

That intense disgust stung… Seriously, she’d stolen *my* body and still acted like this?

Eunice was reeling from losing control—only rage and panic left.

“Bastard! Give me back my body! Or I’ll kill you again!”

“I don’t know how this happened! And you stabbed me, remember?”

No remorse flickered in her eyes.

“Your life means nothing to me. One stab? I’d kill you a thousand times to reclaim the Demonic Sword you stole.”

…A true demoness. Her words chilled me to the bone.

“We’ve never met. No grudge. Why kill me? I didn’t mean to take the sword—I gave it back!”

“Only the first to draw the Demonic Sword becomes its master. Gains immense power. Becomes the Demon King of the demon race.”

“You mean… because I drew it, I became its master? That’s why you killed me?”

“Correct.”

Finally, I understood why Eunice murdered me.

I sighed. What a pointless death.

She wanted the sword, but I’d accidentally pulled it out. She saw me as a thief and killed me without hesitation.

“That sword—I did draw it. But it looked like a plain iron blade. Nothing special.”

Eunice made me stand, her tone icy. “Know what happened after I killed you with that sword?”

“What?”

“It turned to black mist and seeped into your wound.”