The Dark Lord’s palace… its backyard shrouded in darkness… ah, no—bathed in bright sunshine. Hmm… who says a Dark Lord’s palace can’t have a sunny backyard? Anyway… in that sun-drenched courtyard stood a girl with flowing, silky black hair, her face half-hidden by a mask. Her crimson eyes fixed intently on a massive cauldron before her. Bubbles churned in the thick, green liquid inside, and unidentifiable reptilian limbs occasionally surfaced. Clearly, this wasn’t meant for human consumption…

Yet the black-haired girl studied the bubbling brew for a long moment, then gave a slight nod. She removed her mask, picked up a ladle, and seemed ready to drink??

Well, whether she drinks it or not—let’s describe her first. Beautiful. Stunningly beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful. Don’t blame the lack of adjectives; this girl, though not yet fully grown, already possessed such peerless beauty that mortal words for loveliness gasped for breath. She seemed like a divine favorite, yet this holy radiance clashed with her demonic crimson eyes and the jet-black hair unique to the Demon Race. Her scarlet lips glistened like fresh blood, and her delicate tongue darted out to lick them as she faced the cauldron’s mystery—making her allure utterly bewitching. Saintly grace and demonic charm fused seamlessly within her, feeling utterly natural. The only flaw? Such a gorgeous girl wore a plain, undecorated black robe. Its loose folds pooled on the ground, hiding her slender frame—a true pity.

Suddenly, the girl nodded at the cauldron. She scooped a bowl of the murky liquid and raised it to drink. Just as she tilted the bowl—

A fiery streak split the distant sky. She looked up. A colossal mushroom cloud bloomed on the horizon, followed by a low, thunderous roar…

The girl frowned. "These heroes are so annoying. Always causing trouble…"

"Your Highness, shall I drive them away?" A voice piped up from near her feet. She glanced down—a half-meter-tall green Goblin stood there.

"No need," she replied dismissively. "Those arrogant heroes buzz around like flies, year-round, day and night, ‘adventuring’ here to overthrow my Dark Lord father. But aside from the Sword Saint of Wind eight years ago—who actually reached the palace steps—no one’s come close since. Now, they just make irritating noise in the Dark Forest. Besides…" Her voice turned flat. "Father hasn’t been in the palace for years."

"Humans are the most ignorant, arrogant creatures!" the Goblin chirped excitedly, his tiny frame trembling with zeal. "They don’t grasp the Demon Race’s true power! I heard even the mighty Sword Saint of Wind was defeated eight years ago—not by the Dark Lord, but by our Demon Queen! She crushed him with a single powerful spell!"

"Michael…" The girl spoke his name calmly. "You’ve only recently joined the Demon Race. You don’t know the truth. Mother didn’t use any magic. She just… picked up a rice spoon. Knocked that ‘Sword Saint’ out cold. One spoon." A faint smirk touched her lips. "These days, he’s farming in the Demon Race Grand Canyon."

"Eh…?" Goblin Michael froze.

"Stop daydreaming. Take your minions to the Endless Abyss. Fetch magic herbs for me. The palace doesn’t need guarding—the Dark Forest’s harsh terrain, twisted paths, and monsters are protection enough. Now, roll away!" With that, she kicked Michael—the Goblin King feared across human kingdoms. Yes, the Goblin King. Shorter than a meter, yet terrifyingly strong.

"Yes! Your Highness!" Michael bounced off happily, as if her kick were a royal blessing.

With Michael gone and the distant heroes ignored, the girl’s full attention returned to her bowl.

"May this Demon Potion from the Ancient Demon Race Codex—brewed with Golden Sand Lizard—work." She tipped her head back and gulped the vile liquid in one go.

"BLEGH! BLEGH! BLEGH! Tastes worse than soapy water mixed with cola and dish soap!!" Her lovely face scrunched into a dumpling as she spat, her voice raspy from the potion. Don’t ask why she compared it to that specific mix—she’d never tasted it. Just… don’t dwell on it.

"Ugh… dizzy… spinning… must get back… kicking in…" Moments after drinking, the world tilted. She knew the potion was taking effect. Staggering toward the castle, she stumbled into her room and collapsed onto her enormous bed.

"Why does this make my head spin so much? But… as long as it works. Yeah… hope it works…" she mumbled, pulling the snow-white quilt over herself with a delicate hand.

Sleep slowly claimed her. Her dream world shimmered with impossible sights: skyscrapers piercing clouds, surging crowds, strange metal boxes racing everywhere, lights brighter than any magic illuminating the night…

"I want to go home…" A tear slipped from the sleeping girl’s eye as she whispered.

Her name was Rebecca Mi. Princess of the Demon Race. Eldest daughter of the Dark Lord. The most beloved figure in the entire Dark World. Truly—because the Dark Lord doted on his daughter fiercely. Offend the Dark Lord, and you might live. Offend Princess Rebecca? He’d erase you without question. Even now, with their strained relationship, he’d still "humanely dispose" of anyone who hurt her…

The Dark Lord had given Rebecca everything in the Dark World. Every wish granted. Except one. Neither he nor the Demon Queen would allow her to choose—or even hint at wanting—this: to become a boy.

Yes. To become a boy.

Demon Race infants were genderless, free to choose their form before adulthood. But the Dark Lord had used magic to fix Rebecca as female at birth. "I wanted a daughter," he’d declared. So, as an infant, Princess Rebecca was locked into girlhood—robbed of her choice.

It was a terrible setup. Rebecca—truly a boy from Earth’s China—knew it. After a plane explosion, he’d woken in this bizarre world as a baby girl. A classic isekai case…

Even with his thick-skinned nature, the shock and confusion lasted years. Luckily, as a baby, his strange expressions were dismissed as childish whims. After two years in swaddling clothes, he accepted reality and began adapting. He devoured knowledge like a parched sponge, studying this world obsessively. Though unmeasured, his progress left even the mighty Dark Lord speechless. The Dark World rejoiced—a brilliant heir had arrived! But no one knew Rebecca studied so fiercely just to stay busy. Idle moments brought memories of home. Earth. His parents here loved him deeply, indulging his every whim… yet a distance remained. The mighty Dark Lord never guessed his daughter housed a mature soul; he blamed her "genius’s aloofness."

Then Rebecca learned the truth: Demon Race youth chose their gender. When he asked why he’d been made female before adulthood, his parents admitted it—they’d wanted a daughter. They’d stolen his choice.

That broke him. Already lonely from crossing worlds, now trapped in a girl’s body, stripped of his dignity as a man… Returning home felt impossible, but becoming male was still within reach. Yet when he begged to be a boy, his parents refused coldly. The chasm between father and daughter began to crack.

Once seen as diligent and obedient, Rebecca now clashed with her parents. The Dark Lord, who granted every wish, drew a hard line here: he wanted a daughter. His pride as a ruler wouldn’t bend.

Slowly, the respectful distance Rebecca kept turned to arguments. The indulgent father became a stern critic. And Princess Rebecca drifted further from the parents who loved her… but never understood her heart.