Chapter 12: Into the Shadows: A Twisted Transformation

What if I locked eyes with a killer as soon as I stepped in? What if there were dismembered bodies scattered about? The very sight of blood makes my stomach churn—I doubt I’d be in my right mind there. I might even pass out.

Lost in thought, Lara Schmord gently pushed the door open and stepped inside. From within, she could make out the killer’s voice from earlier, though it was too soft to decipher.

Creeping further in, careful to quiet her breaths, she spotted a white operating table splattered with blood. The atmosphere was so ominous that her heart pounded as if a scream might erupt any moment.

Pulling back the tablecloth, she revealed a green surgical table. Instead of the expected mutilated corpse missing a leg, there was a man lying there peacefully with his face wrapped in bandages—a slave who had undergone Western-style surgery.

“This area is a bit of a flaw. Can you smooth it down a little?”

“Of course. Heh heh… After all, we’ve been running this plastic surgery clinic for 30 years.”

From an inner room came the distinct voices of Elina II and the killer—no, the plastic surgeon. Before putting slaves up for sale, they were enhancing their looks right here in this dungeon.

Despite the blood splatters, the floor tiles, wallpaper, and the surroundings of the surgical table were surprisingly well-kept.

If this were a cliché, it would have been grotesque human experiments by a madman. Thankfully, the non-cliché approach had, in a way, saved us.

The plastic surgeon presented Elina II with a pamphlet showcasing before-and-after photos. Seeing ordinary-looking slaves transformed into dazzlingly handsome and beautiful figures, it was clear his skill was top-notch. No wonder the dungeon was filled with stunning individuals.

‘Since the non-cliché has already taken over, what can I do? Hohoho.’

Though he never outright gloated, Lara’s excessive laughter said it all.

‘Shouldn’t we set an example? Or don’t you agree?’

Quoting God’s words, Lara slyly opened the door and stepped into the consultation room.

“I’ll handle your surgery. So please, release my friend… I’m sorry, Elina II. I just couldn’t bear to see a knife near your face. I want to help you, even if it’s in this way.”

“Lara… You really must be careful.”

Elina II turned around, shocked, and quietly agreed as Lara offered a chair and began addressing the matter.

“Anyway, I’d prefer to consult before my friend does.”

“Who told you to barge in? I was planning to delay since it looked like a lot of work. If this guy only needs a slight touch-up, then you, on the other hand, deserve a complete overhaul.”

“Hoho, that joke is a bit much! A complete overhaul? What a humorous way to put it!”

Though she felt tears prickling at her eyes, Lara forced a confident tone. Inside, she was already crying, but she couldn’t let herself show it—not with God’s chuckling echoing in her mind.

So the male lead never appeared, and the plastic surgery consultation continued.

“Let’s see. Your face is rather round, your lips small, and your nose not very prominent—there’s a slight asymmetry. At least your eyes are adequately sized, but nothing that really stands out.”

With flamboyant critiques on another’s face, the plastic surgeon delivered his diagnosis. Lara nodded as if every word were gospel.

The more she listened, the more desperate she felt. She had never thought her face unattractive—rather, she’d considered herself moderately pretty—but this professional critique cut deep.

“Overall, your features are so plain that you’ll blend into any crowd. Honestly, your face is too ordinary—I’m not sure where to begin fixing it.”

Every social scene, be it a ball or anywhere else, would render her just another extra, all because of her looks. Lara stated this in a resolute tone.

“I only trust you, Doctor.”

“First, sign here.”

Barely finishing the consent form, Lara climbed onto the operating table. The plastic surgeon, setting up her chin-rest, began meticulously cleaning her face with a disinfectant-soaked towel. A sharp chemical scent lingered, followed by a hint of mustiness.

‘Is this really a rag meant for cleaning feet…?’

Dispelling any doubt immediately, Lara looked up at the plastic surgeon with unwavering trust. With a painter’s finesse, he began sketching on her face.

“First, let’s sculpt your jawline into a graceful shape, trim your cheekbones so they don’t stick out, and—if possible—add dimples for a captivating smile. Naturally, a front and back eyelid lift should be included, and a nasal implant will perfect that stunning profile.”

“Yes, yes, please do that. I truly trust you, Doctor. I just want to be reborn beautifully…”

God muttered grumpily, perhaps still sour from their earlier argument. Although his tone hinted at genuine concern, Lara brushed it off as petty complaining, silently chiding his nerve.

‘Even an extra can’t get personal satisfaction… It’s so despicable and grotesque.’

She didn’t dream of becoming a heroine; she only wanted to love herself more and gain confidence in her looks. Chewing on an anesthetic herb, Lara closed her eyes, a mix of nerves and excitement swirling within.

At the moment the surgery was about to begin, the door burst open and knights rushed in.

The plastic surgeon dropped his scalpel at the knights’ sudden entrance. Lara, unsure of what was happening, blinked in shock until she realized that this was the arrival of the male lead.

‘Did he really stroll in at a snail’s pace?! The heroine must have long perished… If he’s coming, he might as well arrive on time. What’s the point of showing up at such a crucial moment?’

While grumbling about the male lead’s tardiness as she slumped on the operating table, Lara watched the knights seize the plastic surgeon and force him to the ground.

“Don’t move! You’re under arrest for illegal practice!”

“This is absurd…! Not a single side effect, and our medical tools are sanitized daily!”

“Even if there haven’t been any reported injuries, it remains an unauthorized procedure.”

Just as Lara sprang upright, neat footfalls echoed from afar, and soon a man strode among the knights.

Lara recognized him—someone she knew. Under his sleek crimson hair, his broad shoulders were unmistakable. Karlahee, eyes sharp, noticed the knight facing her and quickly approached him.

His imposing presence filled the room with a heavy, cold aura. The knight immediately reported his findings.

“He forced this illegal procedure on the abducted noblewoman. Arrest him…”

“It wasn’t forced!”

In a clumsy yet determined act, Lara, sporting a green chin-rest, stepped in front of the plastic surgeon.

“Doctor, it’s not your fault. I’ll prove it.”

Just as Karlahee was about to speak, a knight from afar rushed over with a report.

“It appears a slave auction is underway on the upper floor.”

“That’s enough here. Now go and apprehend everyone involved in the auction.”

“Yes!”

Watching the commanding figure issue orders, Lara squinted sharply. Even at a masquerade ball, one could sense his noble rank.

‘So he shamelessly impersonates His Majesty. Perhaps he’s the deputy commander of the Emperor’s elite guard? Judging by the sword he carries, he really does seem to be a knight…’

After reaching a serious conclusion, Lara addressed the man now looking her way.

“If you’re here to rescue Elina II, then he’s over there. So, Doctor, please let him go and attend to other matters—I’ll continue my surgery.”

Pointing at a room labeled “Waiting Room,” Lara lay back on the operating table. Just as the trembling plastic surgeon tried to stand, Karlahee began to walk slowly.

“Why are you taking such a dangerous risk?”

“You wouldn’t understand—you’re too handsome. Meanwhile, my features are so plain that I’d rather not waste time praising the face my parents gave me. If you want to fuss over someone, go rescue the heroine or whatever.”

“Isn’t beauty subjective?”

“Subjective or not, there’s a standard: a small face, large eyes, and a prominent nose.”

Karlahee, standing alongside her, simply massaged his chin in silence.

“Sure, that kind of face is attractive. But don’t you think you have a certain charm as you are?”

The compliment struck Lara’s heart, making it skip a beat. Normally it might have sounded trite, but coming from this stranger, it stirred something inside her.

‘What… What is happening to me?’

Her boyfriend had always been Lord Robes. Though he existed only in two dimensions, he fulfilled all her romantic fantasies.

“Who exactly are you to say I’m cute or something like that?”

Lara lifted her chin like a proud rose, her words laced with thorns.

“I’m sorry if that came off as unpleasant.”

Seeing his sincere apology, Lara’s defiant expression softened slightly.

Karlahee, watching her haughty manner, allowed a faint smile to appear. It was as if the crude sketch on her face momentarily marred her beauty.

“Either way, you shouldn’t change just to please others. Your face is charming as it is.”

Unaware that the sketch was still on her face, Lara suddenly became self-conscious. Then she snapped back to reality, gracefully raising her hand to cover her mouth, as if holding a fan.

“Hmph. I appreciate the compliment, but I already know I’m not conventionally pretty—I’m aware of my own charm. Besides, I never really intended to have surgery…”

‘I… I’m charming…? Charming? The more I think about it… unbelievable!’