The night sky above Valor City was perfect—too perfect.
A billion stars twinkled like diamonds, but none could outshine the glowing rooftop of the Valor Sky Tower. Champagne flowed. Classical music played. Gold confetti rained gently from a helicopter hovering above.
And standing right at the edge, barefoot in a silk red gown soaked with tears, was Mireya Storm.
Her 18th birthday.
Her last breath.
Across from her, holding a wine glass like a trophy and wearing a black tux tailored to perfection, stood Elric Valor—the man she had loved more than life itself.
The man who was about to kill her.
"I gave you everything," she whispered, voice cracking like broken glass. "I followed you like a fool, Elric. And this is what I get?"
Elric stepped closer, swirling his wine lazily. "You were loyal. Obedient. Useful. But love?" He scoffed. "You thought you, a maid from the slums, could ever rise to my level? Your existence was always... temporary."
The words cut deeper than any blade.
Mireya laughed bitterly, wiping her tears with trembling fingers. "You used me. Lied to me. And now you're done, so you want to throw me away like garbage?"
"No," Elric said coldly. "Garbage gets recycled. You won't."
Then, slowly, he raised the glass in a mock toast.
"To loyalty. And to knowing your place."
And with a wicked smile, he pushed her.
The world spun.
Wind roared.
Stars turned upside down.
Mireya's body plunged from the 81st floor like a discarded memory, her red gown fluttering like broken wings. The last thing she saw was Elric raising his glass, as if her death was nothing but entertainment.
Her heart didn't break.
It burned.
If there's a next life… I'll return. And you'll beg for my mercy, Elric Valor.
Darkness. Silence. Nothing.
Then—a scream ripped through the void.
Mireya gasped awake, bolting upright on a velvet bed. Her chest heaved. Her skin was drenched in sweat. But this wasn't the afterlife.
It was... luxury.
A chandelier glittered above. Walls carved with golden dragons. Velvet sheets. Silk curtains swaying with the breeze of a humming A/C.
What the hell?
Then she saw it—her reflection.
She stood up and staggered to the full-length mirror.
It was still her… but not quite.
Her cheekbones were sharper. Her eyes brighter. Her body stronger. And etched faintly across her wrist was a strange, glowing mark—a red sigil in the shape of a phoenix wing.
Before she could process anything further, a voice echoed inside her head, clear, cold, and... annoyed.
"System activated. Welcome, Host. You have reincarnated. Congratulations."
Mireya froze.
What… what was that?
"You are now bound to the Revenge System. Mission: Face-slap your enemies, rise to power, collect 9999 points. Current balance: 0. Let's destroy some lives."
She blinked. "Wait, what?! Revenge System? You mean like… a literal system?!"
"No, a cooking app. Of course a system, genius."
Mireya gawked. "Oh great. A sarcastic robot voice in my head. I'm in hell."
"Correction. You're in the body of Mira Black, heiress of the legendary Stormblood line. You've got powers, money, and a golden invitation to the most elite school in the world: Valora High. Oh, and Elric Valor has reincarnated too… as your classmate."
Silence.
Mireya's lips curled slowly into a smile—vicious and beautiful.
"Elric's alive? In the same school?"
> "Confirmed. Same face. Same ego. Same betrayal waiting to happen."
She stepped back, stared at her new reflection, and took a deep breath.
"So, I've been reborn with power, a system, and a second chance." She clenched her fist, power flickering around her fingertips. "Then let's make it hurt. Elric won't just fall. He'll kneel."
---
KNOCK. KNOCK.
A butler entered with a bow. "Young Miss. Your helicopter is ready. It's time to leave for Valora High."
She turned slowly, eyes gleaming with fire and purpose.
"I hope they're ready."
She walked to the window, her red pajamas fluttering like royalty, and stared down at the world that once crushed her.
"Because this time… I'm not the maid."
"I'm the storm."
The words echoed in the air like prophecy. Her voice wasn't loud, but it thundered through the mansion like a warning shot.
The butler stiffened, unsure whether to respond or simply stay out of her way. Wise man—he chose silence.
Mireya—no, Mira Black now—moved with a calm that screamed danger. She opened the closet, expecting high school uniforms.
What she saw made her pause.
Gold-stitched blazer. Custom black boots. Crest of the Stormblood House embossed across the chest. Even the tie was layered with actual diamonds. Not rhinestones. Diamonds.
Mira blinked. "This isn't a school uniform. This is a declaration of war."
"Rich girl perks. Stormblood heirs aren't ordinary," the system chirped in her head. "Also, Valora High isn't a school. It's a battlefield wearing a tie."
She dressed fast.
Buttoned blazer. Slick tie. One hand through her dark, newly voluminous curls. A single swipe of red gloss. She wasn't trying to be pretty.
She was trying to look dangerous.
And she did.
---
As she stepped into the marble hallway, another notification popped into her mind.
[DING!] Quest Activated: "First Slap, First Glory"
Objective: Face-slap your first enemy within 24 hours.
Reward: +500 Reputation Points, 1 Skill Unlock
Penalty for Failure: Public embarrassment and -20 Reputation.
Mira smirked. "Slap someone in a day? You should've asked me to wait before I slap three."
"Now we're talking."
Outside, the helicopter blades roared to life.
She climbed in, legs crossed, gaze steady as they rose over Valor City. This wasn't the view from a servant's window anymore. It was the view of a queen rising.
Down below, people were ants.
Soon, they'd know her name.
Not as a maid.
But as the girl who came back from death to rewrite fate.
---
[Scene Break – Valora High, Arrival]
The school gates were made of obsidian stone, carved with ancient runes and newer symbols of powerful houses. Armed guards stood like statues. Drones scanned the air. Even the birds here looked rich.
The moment Mira stepped down from the helicopter, students turned to stare.
Gossip sparked like wildfire.
"Who's that?"
"She's not on the elite heir list—wait, is that Stormblood silk?"
"That girl's energy... did you feel that?!"
Mira didn't blink.
She walked like she owned the ground. Her heels clicked against the pavement like a countdown. She didn't need to introduce herself.
Her presence spoke for her.
Until—
BAM!
A student bumped into her shoulder hard. Papers flew. Laughter followed.
"Watch where you're going, peasant," said a tall girl with orange curls and too much perfume. "Or did your fake heiress act already fall apart?"
[DING!] Enemy detected: Bianca Valencia. Affiliation: Gold House. Status: Professional Bully.
Mira didn't hesitate.
She dropped her bag, turned sharply, and slapped Bianca so hard the girl spun like a faulty ballerina.
The crowd gasped. A few phones flew into recording mode.
Bianca froze, one hand on her cheek, eyes wide with disbelief. "You... you hit me?!"
Mira stepped closer, her voice low, calm, and sharp like broken glass. "That wasn't a hit. That was a reminder."
"R-reminder of what?!"
"That this time... I don't kneel. I don't beg. And I don't play nice with girls who stink of insecurity."
[DING!] Quest Complete: First Slap, First Glory.
+500 Reputation
Skill Unlocked: Verbal Destruction (Passive)
The system clapped in her mind. "Host, that was delicious."
Mira turned, picked up her bag, and tossed a wink at the still-shocked crowd.
"I'm Mira Black. Stormblood heir. Get used to the sound of my heels. You'll be hearing them a lot… especially on your necks."
A stunned silence swallowed the crowd. It wasn't just the slap anymore—it was the audacity. The presence. The undeniable force of the girl who had just arrived but already felt like she owned the place.
Bianca clutched her face in disbelief, humiliated beyond repair. Her designer gloss smeared. Her pride cracked.
"You'll regret this," she hissed, venom dripping from her voice.
Mira's gaze didn't even flinch. She tilted her head slightly, her voice smooth like silk laced with steel.
"Wrong," she said coolly. "You'll regret speaking first."
Bianca stepped back, rattled. The crowd slowly parted as Mira strode past them, every click of her heel a warning shot, every step dripping with effortless power.
[DING!] Bonus Reward: Public Dominance Badge Earned.
Title Unlocked: "First Day Demon"
"Host," the system hummed with delight, "your entrance was rated 10/10. Enemies trembling. Reputation spreading. Boys drooling. Envy activated. You are now officially... That Girl."
Mira smirked slightly. As it should be.
---
Across the courtyard, behind tinted glasses, a boy leaned against a pillar, arms folded.
Tall. Jet-black hair. Piercing gray eyes like thunderclouds. He watched her closely.
His expression unreadable.
His heart?
Unsettled.
Elric Valor recognized that walk.
That confidence. That fire.
It couldn't be. No—it wasn't possible.
She was dead.
He had made sure of it.
And yet…
His fingers curled unconsciously, remembering the last time he saw that same defiant gaze—on a girl falling off a rooftop.
"Mireya?" he muttered under his breath.
The name felt like a ghost returning to claim what was hers.
His smirk faded.
Something cold slithered down his spine.
The game had changed.
And he no longer controlled the board.
---
Meanwhile, inside the main hall, a storm was brewing.
Whispers filled the marble corridors.
"Did you see what she did to Bianca?" "She walked in like she owned Valora." "Who is she?" "Stormblood? I thought that line was extinct." "No one slaps Bianca and gets away with it… unless they're powerful."
Mira walked past them all, head high, expression calm, but inside, she was already calculating.
Faces. Names. Threat levels.
"Host," the system chimed again, "VIP notice: Valora High's Top 5 Elite Males detected nearby. Want to scan?"
She almost laughed.
"Later," she whispered under her breath. "Let's leave the kings where they belong… waiting."
---
The moment she entered the grand hall, everything stopped.
Hundreds of students in polished uniforms turned toward her. Teachers looked up. Even the school's main AI assistant blinked twice before adjusting her profile.
Mira paused, standing at the top of the stairs like a queen surveying her kingdom.
She let the silence stretch.
Then she spoke, voice calm, but loud enough to carry.
"Room 17B," she said to no one in particular. "Which way?"
A boy scrambled up to her. Nervous. Wide-eyed. "I-I can show you!"
She nodded once.
As they walked, she leaned in slightly. "What's your name?"
"H-Henry."
"Thank you, Henry," she said, her tone light but laced with something... unshakable. "Stick with me today. You'll learn what power looks like."
---
And with that, the girl who had died on her birthday walked calmly into her new life.
No more chains.
No more betrayal.
Only war.
And the slow, delicious sound of face after face hitting the ground.
"Stick with me today. You'll learn what power looks like."
Henry didn't answer. He couldn't. His lips parted, but no sound came out. He simply nodded, swallowing hard like he'd just been knighted by a queen with a killer stare.
Mira moved forward without waiting.
Eyes followed her. Conversations stopped and turned into whispers. Power didn't need to shout—it moved like thunder under silk.
As she crossed the corridor, students stepped aside without realizing it. Not out of fear.
Out of instinct.
And instinct never lied.
---
The golden school crest glittered above the classroom door as Henry pushed it open.
Room 17B. First class of the day.
She stepped inside.
Four seconds. That's all it took for the temperature in the room to shift.
Girls who had been laughing dropped their gazes. Boys who thought they were untouchable leaned back with interest—and caution.
Mira's gaze swept the room once—sharp, assessing.
Then she walked to the center and chose the seat by the window. Not the front. Not the back. The center—the place kings choose when they're not here to hide or chase. Just rule.
A beat later, Henry slid into the seat beside her, still stunned.
The teacher hadn't arrived yet. But the stares hadn't stopped.
"Who does she think she is?"
"Why does she look like she owns the school?"
"Wait… is that the girl who slapped Bianca?"
"She's definitely new. But that aura? That's not new money. That's old blood."
Mira didn't flinch. She rested her chin lightly in her hand, eyes on the window, every line of her body relaxed—but sharp. Like a dagger resting on velvet.
[DING!] Presence Impact: 80% student attention acquired. Social Territory expanding.
Hidden Bonus Unlocked: First Impression Domination.
"Host," the system chuckled, "You just hijacked the classroom without saying a word. I'm proud."
Mira smiled faintly. "Get used to it. This is just the warm-up."
Then the door opened. Not the teacher.
Him.
---
He stepped in like he'd walked off a magazine cover.
Hair perfectly tousled, tie loose, posture lazy but alert. There was something cold about his eyes—like winter dressed in designer.
Elric Valor.
The reincarnated version of the man who murdered her.
Mira's spine didn't stiffen. Her fingers didn't tremble. Her breath didn't catch.
But something in her eyes shifted.
He saw her. And paused.
Just for a split second.
A flicker of confusion flashed through his gaze. Recognition? Maybe. Maybe not. But enough.
Mira turned her head slightly, met his gaze—and smiled.
A calm, unreadable, wicked smile that made the air itself tense.
Elric's eyes narrowed.
He didn't know yet.
He didn't know who she was.
Not yet.
But he would.
Soon.
And when that moment came… he wouldn't be standing.
---
> [DING!] Target Acquired: Elric Valor.
Current Status: Confused. Watching. Unaware of identity.
Recommended Action: Play. The. Long. Game.
Mira leaned back in her chair, tapped her finger once against her cheek, and whispered under her breath, "Checkmate is sweetest when they think they're still winning."
And for the first time in both their lifetimes—
he blinked first.