Future Love Contract (GL) - Chapter 1

“…What’s going on? Where am I?”

She struggled to open her eyes, trying to recall what had just happened. She had been browsing the internet at home when she suddenly fainted—and when she woke up, she found herself in this unfamiliar place.

It seemed she was lying inside… something that looked like a private vehicle. Through the window, she could see scenery flashing past on both sides. She didn’t use the word “car” because, in both form and interior design, it looked completely different from any ordinary automobile.

Sitting in front of her was a young woman, probably in her early twenties. She had golden, wavy hair, long lashes, and a gentle face that now showed a slightly worried expression. Instinctively, the girl raised her right hand to rub her eyes—only to notice that the mole on her right thumb was gone.

“What?”

Looking down, she realized the clothes she was wearing were also completely different. Not only that, but the outfit didn’t resemble anything she had ever seen before. Compared to an ordinary coat, it looked more like a simplified spacesuit.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Who are you?” she blurted out. “May I borrow a mirror?”

What came out of her mouth wasn’t Mandarin—nor any language she knew. Yet to her, it felt completely natural, as fluent as her mother tongue.

“What was going on?”

The woman across from her reached up to pull down a mirror from the ceiling of the vehicle. She leaned over, took one look—and realized this wasn’t her face.

“This isn’t my body!”

Could it be that she had… transmigrated?

And it was a soul transmigration!

Before she could say anything else, she fainted again. The memories of this body’s original owner began merging with her own. Eventually, the two sets of memories fused together in her mind.

When she slowly regained consciousness, she began piecing together information about this world. The current year was 2623—which meant she had traveled over six hundred years into the future. The original owner of this body was named Zhao Xinyun, an orphan from Earth. After graduating from university (which, in this future, was part of compulsory education), she decided to explore the wider universe. Rather than staying on Earth or heading to one of the well-established Mars bases, she came to the still-under-construction Venus Second Base.

The journey from Earth to Venus was expensive, and after Zhao Xinyun impulsively traveled there, she realized she had little money left. She had spent the entire day looking for work. By evening, she was exhausted and found a bench to rest on. She hadn’t expected to fall asleep—and even less so to be transmigrated. As for the language, almost everyone on Earth now spoke a common tongue called Earth Language.

Yet, neither in Zhao Xinyun’s memories nor in her own did she find anything about the girl in front of her. She must never have met this person before. It was likely the other woman was simply a kind passerby who had found her by chance.

She opened her eyes again. “Sorry to ask, but… who are you?”

“I’m Gresya Antowa,” the woman replied with a blink. “In your Earth terms, I’m a space-dweller.”

“How did you know I’m from Earth?” Zhao Xinyun asked instinctively.

To Gresya, the question seemed to trigger a gut reaction. She frowned slightly and said, “Probably a subtle difference in your accent.”

“Why am I here?” Zhao Xinyun asked, still most concerned about that.

“I… I was just passing by and saw you lying on a bench. I thought I’d bring you into my vehicle to rest. Even though you didn’t look seriously ill, I figured I’d take you to a hospital just in case. I haven’t been on Venus very long myself and didn’t expect something like this to happen. This Second Base is a bit of a mess, so I didn’t bring a medical kit. Thank goodness you’re alright.”

The concern on her face eased a little now.

Zhao Xinyun said sincerely, “Thank you so much.”
Even though her soul had changed, to Gresya—who had only just met her—it didn’t make any difference. There was no need to hide any personality changes, like in those cliché transmigration stories.

Gresya spoke again. “Where do you live? If you’re not feeling well, I can take you to the hospital. If not, I can drop you off at home.”

“Ah, no need for the hospital,” Zhao Xinyun quickly said, waving her hands. She had fainted due to transmigration, not any physical problem, so there was no point in going. “But… I just arrived on Venus today, and… I don’t have a place to stay yet.”

“Oh, that’s fine. You can stay at my place,” Gresya offered casually.

“W-w-wait, isn’t that a bit too much?” Zhao Xinyun hesitated.

Gresya glanced at the display panel on the ceiling—probably checking the time or route. “It’s not a big deal. I have a spare bedroom, and this saves me the trouble of finding a tenant.”

“You’re not worried I might be a bad person?” Zhao Xinyun raised an eyebrow and tilted her head toward her.

Gresya pouted slightly, thinking for a moment. “In a tiny place like the Second Base? Bad guys? Who would bother coming here? Besides…” She paused, stared into Zhao Xinyun’s eyes, and said seriously, “I trust your eyes.”

Zhao Xinyun went quiet. Gresya reached out and tapped a few buttons on the dashboard, then leaned back into her seat.

“Autopilot Mode?”

According to Zhao Xinyun’s memory, in the 27th century, “Autopilot Mode” meant fully autonomous driving. All vehicles on a given road communicated with each other, so accidents were rare. Manual drive was reserved for people in a rush or those who liked to drive themselves—since AI didn’t always pick the fastest route.
“You’re not in a hurry?”

“What would I be rushing for?” Gresya shook her head. “Every day, I just go home after work. Second Base is barren—there’s nothing here. Even First Base is better. But you know what—” her eyes sparkled, “that’s exactly why I came here. Blank slates mean endless possibilities!”

“I actually thought the same thing,” Zhao Xinyun replied, looking around and nodding. Judging by the vehicle’s interior, it looked expensive. A real rich girl, she thought to herself. “I didn’t want to stay on Earth where everything was already set. I could’ve gone to Mars, but it’s already developed—kind of boring.”

She replied this way based on the original owner’s memories.

“Yeah, I grew up on Mars,” Gresya said.

“Really?”

Gresya leaned in slightly. A faint fragrance drifted into Zhao Xinyun’s nose, making her heart stir with a strange feeling.

“What? Did you think all space-dwellers were raised on spaceships? I was born and raised at Mars Base Seven. And by the way, the proper term is ‘Citizen of the Starship Federation.’”

“W-wait! I didn’t mean anything by it!”
Although Gresya didn’t look offended—just serious—Zhao Xinyun panicked and waved her hands. “I was just tired… I’d like to rest a little.”

Realizing she had just recovered, Gresya understood that Zhao Xinyun needed some quiet. She nodded and added, “The hospital’s close by. Let me know if you need anything.” Then she turned back to the control panel.

The act of transmigrating had been a huge psychological shock. Zhao Xinyun closed her eyes again and tried to recall more memories of this world.

Starting from the end of the 21st century, humanity spent one to two hundred years launching spaceships from Earth in search of habitable alien planets. To ensure construction efforts once a planet was found, these ships were large, carrying thousands of people and fully equipped with supplies and equipment.

These ships wandered the outer solar system for centuries, but none found signs of alien life—or suitable planets. Still, over time, the passengers banded together and eventually formed the Starship Federation. These people and their descendants came to be known on Earth as space-dwellers.

Now, humanity was divided into two main groups: the Starship Federation and the Earth Federation. Their relationship was one of both cooperation and competition. Like countries in the 21st century, some prejudice existed—but it wasn’t very common.

That faint scent lingered in the air. For some reason, it gave Zhao Xinyun a sense of calm.

She opened her eyes again—mainly to avoid the awkward silence—and asked, “What brand of perfume are you wearing?”

“Perfume? I’m not wearing any,” Gresya said while adjusting the vehicle’s air filtration. “I’ve never been into perfume… what you’re smelling is probably my shampoo.”

She turned to Zhao Xinyun. “Have you had dinner yet? If not, I’ll cook tonight. The food made by robots is just not the same. They only know how to make the same few dishes—I’m sick of it.”

“I’ll cook,” Zhao Xinyun offered.

Gresya shook her head. “No way, you’re my guest today. How about we cook together?”