The D@mn Mirror was Defective!

Dear readers, I left you hanging on that last chapter. You might even have thoughts of clobbering me since that was, in fact, the very first chapter of this story. But I genuinely beg your pardon. I have not gathered my wits about just yet.

In this absurd situation, who would?

I woke up in a nauseatingly pink room, even more lavish than the hotel suite I remember sleeping at. Out of a force of habit, my training kicked in. So I stayed still, my breath barely notable as I observed my surroundings. I checked myself for injuries and found none. I even checked the sheets and the side of my bed.

Thankfully, there was no other person besides me, nor was there a stain on the immaculately white bedding. Phew, that's a relief. At least this wasn't the worst-case scenario where I ended up in a one-night stand with a man I knocked out. What wishful thinking. That would really be embarrassing!

I knew I was mostly safe. I couldn't feel any threat from where I was. Just a headache.

The bedroom was quite huge. You could stuff my entire team's bunk in it, and you'd still have space to roam in. The bed was soft. It was so fluffy that I almost wanted to drift off to sleep again if it were a different circumstance. It was a four-poster bed with billowing, white curtains. There was an intricate, round vanity littered with what I presume was makeup and skin care products. A small study with a reading table and a couple of settees right beside the floor-to-ceiling French windows leading to an expansive balcony. The entire room had that medieval, European feel to it.

This situation was oddly similar to the transmigration novels I have read. It was giving me an ominous feeling.

"C'mon, Bai Feng Jiu. That thought is absurd. Quit it." I murmured to myself in admonition.

'But just in case, it wouldn't hurt to check, right? You never know.' The little devil Jiu whispered in a sing-song voice to my mind.

Resigning to my doubts, I slowly went down from the bed and approached the vanity. My footsteps light and without any sounds. But you bet my heart was pounding nervously, and it rang in my ears like resounding battle drums.

I have always been relaxed during missions, even if I sometimes have to take a life to accomplish it. I was doing my duty for my country, for it was the one that enabled me to continue living. Though, in a corner of my heart, it was a little tiring.

My mind was drifting off again.

I reached the round vanity mirror and lifted my eyes to look. Then, all hell broke loose.

It didn't.

I was exaggerating.

It was all in my mind. It snapped. What wouldn't? My poor brain. The damn mirror was defective!

Who was this?

Who was this petite, smöl bishoujo in the mirror?

That can't be me! I'm a friggin' giant, alright. Where have my muscles gone? My beloved abs! Where did you go? My well-developed biceps, come back! And what in the world of f*cks, my pecs, err...my non-existent breasts suddenly grew overnight? Wait... My height? My height?! Oh gods in the heavens above, give me back my height!

I slumped unceremoniously on the floor in despair. Flabbergasted was understating it. The vivid figure still flashed in my mind. Taunting. That isn't me. I don't look like that. I ain't cute, man. I look like a dude, except without the thing down there. I don't have long, wavy, sakura-pink hair so silky it was a sin. I don't have a small, oval face with soft edges so delicate it was questionable. I don't have a small, pert nose that reddened in the slightest cold. I don't have cheeks that seem as if they have a permanent blush.

I don't have these obviously heart-shaped lips the color of red plum blossoms in the winter. I don't have brows like willows evoking gentleness at each curve. The only feature I recognized from this face was my signature phoenix eyes. Yet even the eye color was wrong! I have inky black pupils. Not jeweled peridot ones. They do look super pretty, though. But that's beside the point.

Right. It's the mirror, isn't it? It was defective. It's playing a prank on me. I'll look again. It may reflect my original look back.

Dear readers, I will say this. It did not reflect my original look back.

So there I sat, on the floor, with my soul leaving my body. Angelic voices singing could be heard echoing in the room.

Kidding.

That, ladies and gentlemen, was the sound of my sanity breaking.

To rub salt to the injury, the light headache I had suddenly intensified into an overbearingly painful one.

"F*ck!" That was the last thing I could say before I passed out. My thoughts were along the lines of this being the proverbial onslaught of the host's memories. Tsk! What a cliché.

Expectedly, the memories did come next. And as I sifted through, I couldn't help but curse a little bit more. This was no longer a case of a defective mirror. This was, through and through, a case of a damned transmigration.