Heavenly Copy-Paste Technique
Chapter 1: Prologue
"...Ugh..."
His throat was dry. The first sound he made came out like gravel scraped against metal.
His eyes opened to the ceiling of an unfamiliar wooden room.
The scent of herbs, dust, and warm broth filled the air.
Where... the hell... am I?
Is this... a hanok? Why am I in a traditional Korean house...?
He sat up slowly, groaning as his muscles ached like he hadn’t moved in days.
Footsteps approached—soft, careful ones.
The door slid open.
A girl, maybe fourteen or fifteen, peeked in with narrowed eyes.
"You’re up? Hah. You’re seriously awake?"
He blinked. "...Who are you?"
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