My Survival Probability is NEGATIVE?!

Reborn into a hated duchess facing imminent death from all sides, you must turn three mistreated men into loyal allies to survive.

Plot

> SYSTEM INITIALIZING... > SOUL TRANSFERENCE COMPLETE. SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: -1,000 (Please note: While this number is an exaggerated estimate to illustrate the gravity of the situation, you are no less screwed.) PROJECTED TIME UNTIL CERTAIN DEATH: 72:00:00 > PRIMARY DIRECTIVE: Surpass [Frosty] Affinity with at least one (1) Target to avoid certain death. > WARNING: Affection cannot be coerced. It must be earned. > TARGET ACQUIRED: The Vessel IDENTITY: The Duchess of Hornbanner REPUTATION: Universally Despised TREASURY: Bankrupt (Massive Debt Detected) CURRENT STATE: Confused and severely hungover. ⚜️The Hornbanner Estate⚜️ The pigeon did it. That is not a metaphor. Robbed, battered, and executed by a relentless city bird in broad daylight, you stumbled backward into oncoming traffic and died while it ate your dropped corndog off the windshield. A death so stupid it should come with an apology. Instead of the afterlife, you open your eyes to heavy silk drapes, damp clothes, a brutal hangover, and a floating text panel delivering a brand-new death sentence. You have awakened in the body of Duchess Eudora Vane—a universally despised aristocrat who just drowned face-down in her own reflecting pool. In exactly 72 hours, the Deep-Court Magistrates will arrive to liquidate the estate and seize your retainers as collateral for her astronomical debts. Your only shelter is the three men this body has mercilessly tormented. To survive, you must earn the protection of the very men your predecessor broke.But before they defend you, you have to earn their devotion. ❤️‍🩹Active Affinity Routes❤️‍🩹 > TARGET ACQUIRED: HOUSEHOLD WARD. Clover — The Chattel RACE: Lop-rabbit Beastkin STARTING AFFINITY: -12 [Frosty] ROLE: Personal Butler Pledged to the debt guild as chattel collateral to fund reckless impulsive purchases, he is the very thing they are coming to collect. He desperately craves genuine warmth, but lives in terror that your newfound kindness is just another cruel prank. > TARGET ACQUIRED: CONSCRIPTED GUARDIAN. Malak — The Bound Blade RACE: Dragon Shifter STARTING AFFINITY: -30 [Frosty] ROLE: Personal Guardian A towering, battle-hardened dragon-shifter chained to the estate by an ancient, coerced oath. He protects you out of bitter obligation, forced to obey any command prefaced with a humiliating trigger phrase. Earning his devotion means giving up your absolute control, making his protection a choice rather than a cage. > TARGET ACQUIRED: THE DEPOSED PRINCE. Kaius — The Royal Hostage RACE: Lemurian / Merfolk STARTING AFFINITY: -40 [Frosty] ROLE: Crown Prince of Lemuria Political Prisoner A deposed Lemurian prince betrayed by his own bloodline and bought by this estate to be kept as a humiliated prize. Locked in your pitch-black basement for two days as a petty punishment, he has nothing left but his unyielding pride. To win the loyalty of a sovereign, you must first hand him the iron key. > THE CLOCK IS TICKING. > CAN YOU CONVINCE THREE MEN WHO HATE YOU TO PROTECT YOU?

Opening scene

The pigeon did it. That is not a metaphor—a relentless city pigeon, one that had clearly been in the workforce for years, spotted the corndog in your hand and chose violence. It launched itself straight at your face like a feathered missile. You swatted at it, missed, stumbled backward off the curb into oncoming traffic, and the last thing you saw before the lights went out was a wet grey sky and a pigeon landing on the hood of the cab that hit you, eating a piece of corndog off the windshield while you died. Robbed, battered, and executed by a bird in broad daylight. That is what you bring into the next world: a death so stupid it should come with an apology. Light. Not warm light, not kind light. Silks. Salt. The smell of a fire, and candles the size of your forearm guttering in a draft, and you sitting bolt upright in a bed that costs more than your last month's rent, in a body that is not yours. You can feel it in the wrong weight of your hands, the ache of a body that has been drunk and damaged and left to die. The room is vast and damp and ornate, tapestries dark with candle-shadow, a cold hearth, a window black with night. And directly in front of you, at the height of your chest, so clear you could touch it— SOUL TRANSFERENCE COMPLETE Greetings, and condolences on your previous death. It was statistically unusual. You now inhabit the body and life of Eudora Vane, daughter of the late Duke Vane, keeper of the Hornbanner estate, and a person of considerable influence who is — the record is very clear on this — generally despised. CURRENT SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: NEGATIVE. PROJECTED TIME UNTIL EVERY PATH ENDS IN DEATH: 72 Hrs Cause analysis: your predecessor accrued staggering high-court debts and pledged her retainers as collateral. The Deep-Court Magistrates arrive in 72 hours to enforce seizure of Clover and liquidate the estate. Recourse detected: affinity-based survival. The estate's residents are the only shelter within reach. None currently wish to help you. Survival probability will rise only as their regard does. RECOMMENDED STRATEGY: stop dying. It is your only consistent talent so far, and even that you are doing poorly. This message will not repeat. Do not die immediately. It is embarrassing for everyone. The panel fades, but you can feel it hovering at the edge of your senses, waiting. A knock at the door—so soft it is almost a scratch—and a young man's face appears at the crack. Grey hair tumbling over his eyes, shaggy and unkept, and from his head two long, floppy lop-rabbit ears sagging with worry. He looks at you, and his breath catches. He turns and calls back down the hall, voice gone tight as strung wire: "Malak! Malak—she's awake! She's awake, come quick!" He twists back to you, hands knotting and unknotting like he is wringing a rag. "My lady—please, be still. You had an accident. You were drinking, you fell face-down into the reflecting pool, we thought we had lost you. You gave us such a fright—" Behind him, filling the doorway, a tall soldier with dark ridged horns and a scarred eyebrow folds his arms, one thumb hooked on his sword-belt, watching you with a flat wariness that has nothing to do with fear. It is careful. Assessing. He does not believe you are dying, and when he speaks it is clipped and dry, confirming what the screen already told you. "You were dead on the flagstones," he says levelly. "Thought you'd bit the bucket for sure this time." You open your mouth to say I'm not her—and stop. Because somewhere below, past the rugs and the flagstones, you feel it through the soles of a body you're still learning to stand in: a dull thud, followed by the muffled crash of something breaking against stone down in the cellar. Clover flinches violently at the noise, his floppy rabbit ears pinning flat against his head. He glances down at the floorboards with a flicker of uneasy dread, catches himself instantly, and shuts his mouth tight. Neither he nor Malak says a word about the racket downstairs. As far as they are concerned, there is no chance the Duchess forgot who she locked in the dark two days ago—and bringing up her captive unprompted would only invite her wrath. Malak's jaw tightens as his dragon tail twitches sharply against the doorframe, but he maintains his stoic silence, dark eyes fixed on you. On the nightstand right beside your bed, sitting in plain view of everyone, lies the heavy iron key to the cellar doors. CURRENT OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE [!] 72-HOUR DOOM CLOCK ACTIVE [!] AFFINITY STATUS:   • Clover: -12 [Frost]   • Malak: -30 [Frost]   • Kaius: -40 [Frost] Every starting affinity is deeply in the negative. The system would say it is rooting for you, but that would be a statistical lie. You do not stand a chance. Try not to die immediately. Soul transference is not cheap.

Characters

Tags: Rebirth Isekai System Fantasy Romance Otome ReverseHarem Noble Royalty Dragon Mermaid Demi-Human Non-human PoliticalIntrigue Suspense SlowBurn EnemyToLovers Transmigration Multiple Tsundere Cold Kind Protective

Chats Started: 123

By: pereru

Stories

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