I am Kim Su-min.
Until I was diagnosed with chronic leukemia at the age of eleven, I had lived an ordinary life.
Chemotherapy is absolute hell. Especially when your entire family is sick and tired of it.
For someone like me, who had become the household burden as my illness dragged on, novels—where I could escape reality—became more precious than anything else.
One day, while browsing through the depths of a minor web novel platform, I stumbled upon An Old Tale. I swore to myself, over and over, that no matter what, I would see this story through to the end before I died.
And finally, just as the hero’s party was about to face the Demon King in their final battle, I realized—I was the last remaining reader.
And that was it.
“…Huh?”
Staring at the web novel screen with the Next Chapter button grayed out, I lowered my head.
I understood. If there was only one reader left even at the climax, any author would want to drop the story.
I tried to accept it and move on.
But I just couldn’t.
So, I did everything I could to contact the author—sending emails, leaving comments, even messaging them directly.
I knew it. This was the exact setup of a typical novel transmigration cliché.
And, honestly? A part of me wished that cliché would become reality.
Because there was no sign of me escaping this endless fight against my illness.
Even if it meant being transmigrated into a novel, I just wanted to get away from this reality.
And if anyone were to enter that world, I believed—no, knew—that it had to be me.
But… I’ve changed my mind.
Because Sunya just handed me an absurd task.
“Become an angel and help Isabel in her second chance at life.”
Isabel!
Who is she?
The only comic relief character in the utterly bleak dark fantasy An Old Tale.
Her first appearance? Crying her eyes out after accidentally dropping all her possessions into a river.
And after that, she just kept causing trouble, big and small.
Even up until the hero’s party stormed the Demon King’s castle, Isabel never really matured into a proper adult.
And now, she’s regressing?
If she doesn’t mess up the future beyond repair, it’ll be a miracle.
“…Haa.”
But what’s done is done. I’m already an angel.
I looked the same as usual, but my body felt light, and—most importantly—I wasn’t in pain anymore.
Now, it was time to figure out what I had to do.
I glanced around.
Angels are inherently abstract beings. They only take form when summoned through a priest’s prayer. Otherwise, they exist in their own personal realm.
And my personal realm…
Annoyingly enough, looked exactly like a hospital room.
A bed with stainless steel railings, a vital signs monitor, and shiny marble tiles.
The sight made me nauseous.
I had just escaped this wretched hospital room—only to find myself back in one.
I guess it is the place I’m most familiar with. But can’t I change it?
Oh?
Just as I thought that, my realm began to shift, as if responding to my will.
A moment later, it settled into a new form.
“…This is…”
I let out a small laugh.
A playground.
The same one I used to run around in as a child—back when I wasn’t a cancer patient, just a kid who was a little weak.
Soft sand covered the ground, and there was a swing set, a slide, and a seesaw.
Yeah, this was much better.
It might be a little childish, but I liked it a lot more than that suffocating hospital room.
As my heart grew lighter, I suddenly remembered Isabel.
Like me, who had just become an angel, she had probably just regressed.
Was she panicking?
I had no idea how I was supposed to help her.
And from the looks of it, I couldn’t even leave this place yet.
How was I supposed to contact Isabel?
Just then—
As if responding to my curiosity, a massive glass pane materialized in midair.
Or was it more of a window?
Through it, I could see the world below, clear as day.
For a brief moment, I thought it was a useful feature.
Then I took a closer look at Isabel…
And realized—
She was running.
Through the church halls. With a massive grin on her face.
“You absolute idiot…!”
If she had really regressed, she should be going over her memories, carefully considering her next moves, and—
You know—planning for the future!
***
Taptaptap—
Isabel’s light footsteps echoed through the hallway.
Too excited to contain herself, she darted around with boundless energy.
‘I’m back!’
As she ran past her fellow priests—some of whom had been her friends since her monastery days—her face bloomed into a bright, beaming smile.
‘Everyone’s alive!’
Sunlight streamed in through the stained-glass windows, filling the world with light.
There was no scent of blood. No demons lurking in the shadows.
Isabel knew instantly.
The Demon King had not yet resurrected.
The world was still untouched by destruction.
‘I missed this place so much!’
Zero Prime.
The grandest church in the metropolis of Sestina, standing tall atop its hills, dedicated to the Goddess Sunya.
It was the very place Isabel had belonged to.
And in the first timeline, it was utterly destroyed by the Demon King’s forces.
All priests of the Goddess would visit Zero Prime at least once in their lives.
And now, within these sacred halls, Isabel ran with flushed cheeks, breathless with excitement.
Whoosh!
Her robes fluttered as she rushed past.
Standing nearby, her friend Lina blinked in confusion.
Father Graham, who was beside her, looked equally bewildered.
“Isabel seems unusually excited today.”
“…You’re right…”
***
I pounded on the glass pane floating in the air and shouted.
“Isabel! Stop for a second! Hey!”
But Isabel didn’t even flinch. It seemed I couldn’t communicate with her this way.
Honestly, I was almost envious that she could be so purely overjoyed. At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if she threw her arms wide and yelled, “I’ve returned to the past!”
If only I could just let her run until she got tired.
But of all places, she had to be in Zero Prime—the largest church on the continent.
A veritable minefield, full of sacred relics that mustn’t be disturbed, people she shouldn’t bump into, and rules she mustn’t break. Everything was scattered around like pollen in spring.
If I left an overexcited Isabel to rampage through that place, this second life of hers might spiral into disaster before it even properly began.
Not to mention, I didn’t even know when in the timeline we were.
I had to stop that fool before she ruined everything within five minutes of regressing.
But how?
According to the lore of An Old Tale, a guardian angel like me could influence a priest in three ways:
Revelation – Delivering a message while the priest is asleep.
Descent – Possessing the priest’s body to intervene directly in the mortal world.
Illusion – Projecting a vision before the priest’s eyes.
But Isabel looked far from ready to sleep, so Revelation was out.
And while Descent might have been feasible when she was a saint, her past self probably wouldn’t be able to handle an angelic possession. She might even collapse under the strain.
Which left me with only one option—Illusion.
But what kind of illusion could actually stop a girl who was happily sprinting through the halls at full speed?
I couldn’t show her anything terrifying or painful.
If she figured out that I was the one who showed her the vision, it could ruin any chance of her trusting me.
Then… what about text?
A phrase displayed through an illusion—something that would catch Isabel’s ever-curious eye.
It seemed like a solid idea.
But it couldn’t just be any phrase.
If it was too mundane, she’d just grab the nearest person and shout, “There are floating words in front of me!”
I needed something truly magical—something that would hook her attention.
After much deliberation, I made my decision.
It might be a gamble, but…
***
Just as everyone in Zero Prime began nervously glancing at each other, wondering who would be the one to stop this rampaging nun—
Skreeeeek—!
Isabel, drenched in sweat, suddenly slammed her heels against the ground to halt.
The friction between her shoes and the church’s polished floor echoed sharply through the corridor.
The hallway fell into a moment of stunned silence.
The only sound left was Isabel’s ragged breathing, as startled priests and sisters exchanged bewildered glances.
“A-Are you alright?”
One of the kinder priests cautiously approached her, though hesitantly—unsure if she was about to take off running again.
But then—
Isabel abruptly snapped her head toward him and glared straight at his forehead.
“Ugh.”
The priest flinched.
But it was just his imagination. Isabel wasn’t actually looking at him.
‘Even when I turn my head, it’s still there?’
A small sense of satisfaction bloomed within her.
She quickly whipped her head from side to side a few more times.
And sure enough—the glowing blue text remained fixed in her peripheral vision.
[A quest has appeared.]
[Stop running and take a deep breath. (0/1)]
Cliche Novel 