
All of Hugo Taylor’s friends knew that Phoebe Hamilton was just a player from another world. When the time came, she would leave. Even so, Hugo had fallen deeply in love with her. The first Christmas, Hugo risked his life climbing Mount Everest just to express his love to Phoebe at the top of the world. The second Christmas, Hugo voluntarily donated his kidney to Phoebe’s friend just to stop her tears. The third Christmas, Hugo endured fifteen lashes from his family just so Phoebe could openly become a member of the Taylor family. The fourth Christmas, Hugo spent lavishly at an auction just to prepare an expensive wedding gift for Phoebe. The fifth Christmas, Hugo broadcast live globally, offering all his wealth in front of everyone just to make Phoebe marry him. Everyone called him a fool, but he said: “Love has never been a game for the clever. Everyone else wants to win this game, but I only want Phoebe.” Finally, Hugo touched Phoebe’s heart, making her willing to abandon everything and stay in this world. Only seven days remained until their wedding. Phoebe was about to go shopping but realized she’d forgotten her purse, so she turned back to get it. She saw Hugo leaving the villa, sneaking toward the warehouse. Phoebe remembered that place only stored some discarded items. She wondered: “What’s Hugo doing there?” By the time Phoebe realized it, she was already following Hugo. The warehouse door opened, dust flying everywhere. Hugo was a germaphobe, yet now he didn’t care at all. He walked to the edge of the warehouse, feeling around for something. After a while, the wall on the right side of the warehouse slowly opened from the middle. There was actually a secret room here. Phoebe covered her mouth, making no sound. She carefully followed Hugo into the secret room. Soon, a crystal coffin appeared before Phoebe. The woman in the coffin had pale skin and colorless lips, clearly dead for a long time. Yet her body showed no signs of decay whatsoever. Hugo said tenderly: “Emilia, I’ve come to see you. In seven more days, you’ll be able to return to my side.” Hugo knelt beside the coffin, holding the woman’s hand. He looked so devoted, yet filled with profound sadness. Phoebe froze. This familiar name reminded her of someone—Emilia Ferguson. Emilia was Hugo’s first love, who had died the Christmas before Phoebe appeared. Phoebe knew Hugo had loved her deeply before. But how could Emilia, who had been dead for so many Christmases, appear here? Soon, Hugo’s next words answered Phoebe’s confusion. He said: “Emilia, how could you bear to leave me alone? But fortunately, with the heart of someone from another world, I can bring you back to life. If it weren’t for the fact that only through successful conquest, making someone from another world willingly stay, can her soul and body merge as one, I wouldn’t have waited five long Christmases. Emilia, we’ll be together again soon.” Hugo pressed his face into Emilia’s palm. Though it was such a tender scene, it filled Phoebe with chills. Her body trembled uncontrollably, even her soul was terrified. Just then, Hugo’s phone rang. The moment he turned around, Phoebe immediately hid behind the wall. Tears blurred her vision, but her hearing became more acute. The person on the phone said: “Hugo, everything’s ready.” Hugo said: “Good. We’ll act on the wedding day.” The person on the phone asked: “Hugo, Phoebe has been with you for five Christmases after all. Isn’t this going too far?” Hugo snorted coldly and said: “She’s the one who’s foolish. Who can she blame? Besides, she can’t go back now. Nothing can be changed.” Phoebe didn’t even know how she walked out of that secret room. Her legs went weak, and she collapsed to the ground after walking less than three hundred feet. The physical pain brought Phoebe back to her senses. She removed the ring from her pinky finger and swallowed the pain in her heart. Then she said in her mind: “System, I regret this.” “Regret index detected rising. System resuming service for you.” The electronic voice that had been absent for so long reappeared in Phoebe’s mind. She slowly exhaled, tears glimmering in her eyes. Phoebe said: “System, I want to go home.” No one knew that after a host chose to stay in this world, the system would monitor them for three months. Within those three months, as long as the host had regrets, they could return to their original world. Today was the last day. The system said: “Understood. As punishment for your indulgence in romance, at the wedding seven days from now, when you personally kill the target, you can go home.” Hugo returned home in the evening. He immediately noticed Phoebe sitting on the sofa in a daze, and his cheerful expression instantly faded. “What’s wrong, Phoebe? Why are you sitting here all alone looking so lost?” Hugo approached with a smile, his voice as gentle as always. The next second, he saw Phoebe’s bleeding knee, and his expression immediately turned frantic. “What happened to your knee? Did you fall? “Why didn’t you treat the wound? What if it gets infected? “You really can’t take care of yourself without me.” Though Hugo was complaining, he immediately fetched the medical kit to treat Phoebe’s wound. He knelt in front of Phoebe, his movements gentle. Phoebe asked, “Hugo, do you love me?” The sudden question made Hugo’s hands pause for a moment. Without looking up, Hugo smiled and said, “Why are you suddenly asking this? Of course I love you. “Phoebe, can’t you see how much I love you?” Of course Phoebe could see it. It was precisely because she had seen so much of his love that when the harsh reality was exposed, she felt so helpless and confused. After Hugo finished applying medicine to Phoebe’s wound, he stood up and sat beside her. “What’s wrong? Did someone say something to you? “Phoebe, don’t listen to their attempts to drive a wedge between us.” Hugo took Phoebe’s hand in his. The rings on their fingers complemented each other, so dazzling. Phoebe remembered that four Christmases ago, someone had also told her that Hugo didn’t truly love her. Later, when Hugo found out about this, she never saw that person again. In the past, Phoebe thought it was because Hugo loved her so much that he wouldn’t allow any flaws in their relationship. Now, thinking back, it might have been because he was worried his plan would be exposed, which made him angry. Phoebe looked down at their intertwined hands. Then she said softly, “In that case, Hugo, we’re getting married soon. “I’ve already organized the things in your study for you.” Hugo, who had been looking gentle just moments before, immediately changed his expression. “What did you say?” Hugo tightened his grip, making Phoebe wince in pain. “I said, I organized the things in your study… Ah!” Before Phoebe could finish speaking, Hugo threw her aside. She fell to the ground, and her barely healed wound began bleeding again. “Who gave you permission to touch the things in my study? Phoebe, what do you think you are?” Hugo’s tall frame was imposing and oppressive, making it hard for Phoebe to breathe. Phoebe wasn’t allowed to enter Hugo’s study, but she knew that most of the things there belonged to Emilia. She endured the pain and stood up from the ground. Then she said, “Hugo, the past is in the past. What matters is the present and the future, isn’t it? “I’ll always be with you. I…” Hugo roared, “Get out!” He looked at Phoebe as if she were a complete stranger. Only at this moment did Phoebe finally understand the difference between herself and Emilia. After all, the dead don’t compete with the living for affection. After saying this, Hugo strode toward the door. Phoebe watched his retreating figure, and the last glimmer of hope in her heart finally died. She closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. Phoebe said in her heart, “System, I agree. I will kill Hugo.”
Late at night, Phoebe was awakened by thunder. Hugo hadn’t returned yet, but his friends had already called several times. Phoebe finally answered the eighth call. The man on the other end said urgently, “Phoebe, you need to come to the bar right away. Hugo’s had too much to drink and keeps calling your name. We don’t know what to do. Did you two have a fight? You’re getting married soon.” His tone was rushed. But Phoebe recognized him as the person who had called Hugo earlier that day. She didn’t know how many people were involved in this hunt, or how many knew about it. Phoebe sat up in bed, hesitated for a moment, then said, “Alright, I understand.” To ensure she could successfully return home on her wedding day, Phoebe didn’t want any accidents to occur. She also didn’t want them to notice anything unusual. It was pouring rain outside. By the time Phoebe reached the bar, her pants were soaked through at the ankles. Hugo lay alone on the couch, surrounded by his standing friends. When they saw Phoebe arrive, they hurried to persuade her. One man said, “Phoebe, you’re finally here. Hugo treats you so well—why do you insist on fighting with him?” Another man added, “Yeah, Phoebe, don’t forget who you depend on for your current lifestyle. Besides, other than staying by Hugo’s side, where else could you go now?” Phoebe’s gaze swept across their faces. They spoke words of concern, but their eyes showed little genuine worry. She said nothing, crouching beside the couch to pat Hugo’s face. Then she said, “Hugo, are you still awake?” Hugo opened his eyes slightly. Seeing Phoebe, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist. He said, “Phoebe, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I know I was wrong, Phoebe. I just needed time to adjust. You know I’m someone who clings to the past. Phoebe, I was wrong. I’ll never do this again. Don’t leave me.” Hugo’s voice was slurred, as if he really had been drinking heavily. But Phoebe knew this wasn’t how Hugo acted when he was truly drunk. She had taken care of a drunk Hugo many times—how could she mistake his behavior? Hugo was simply using the pretense of being drunk to smooth over their relationship. Phoebe said, “Okay, I understand. I’ll take you home.” With help from the others, Phoebe lifted Hugo from the couch. His steps were unsteady, but each one was planted firmly. That night, caring for the “drunk” Hugo, Phoebe barely slept at all. The next day, when she woke up, Hugo had already left for the office. A note was left beside the bed in Hugo’s handwriting: [Phoebe, thank you for last night. I was wrong. I’ll bring you a gift when I come home tonight.] Every time he made Phoebe angry, Hugo would apologize this way. But the past tenderness now seemed laughable to Phoebe. Phoebe calmly crumpled the note into a ball and tossed it into the trash. Since arriving in this world, she had continued her profession as a fashion designer. With Hugo’s help, her career had flourished. Even her wedding dress was Phoebe’s own design. For this wedding dress, Phoebe had invested tremendous energy, staying up several nights to finally create a satisfactory sketch. She had even made the wedding dress herself, never letting anyone else help. But however satisfied she had been with this wedding dress before, she now found it equally repulsive. Phoebe picked up scissors, wanting to destroy it, but since she had made it with her own hands, she couldn’t bear to do it. In the end, she could only cover the wedding dress with fabric and set it aside. That day, Phoebe worked late into the night to complete orders as quickly as possible. She hadn’t replied to Hugo’s messages all day. Only one lamp illuminated the late-night studio. Phoebe worked with intense focus, not daring to slack off for a moment. This concentration meant that when she noticed the sparks beginning to ignite, it was already too late. The thick carbon dioxide made it hard for Phoebe to breathe. She bent over, covering her nose and mouth, trying to escape outside. However, flames blocked Phoebe’s escape route. The studio was packed with fabric, and the fire spread incredibly fast. Phoebe tried several times but couldn’t get out. She could only watch helplessly as all her hard work was consumed by the flames. Ash blurred her vision, and sharp pain shot through her lungs—each breath felt like torture. Finally, Phoebe collapsed from exhaustion. In the last moment before losing consciousness, she saw firefighters rushing toward her. After what felt like an eternity, Phoebe’s consciousness gradually returned. But her body wouldn’t obey her, as if she were trapped inside a puppet. Then she heard a man’s low voice nearby—a voice that sounded familiar. “Is everything cleaned up? Are you sure there’s no trace left?” “I know those things were important to Phoebe. But she lost Emilia’s belongings, so she had to pay the price.” “Now we’re even.” It was Hugo’s voice. Phoebe’s hands instinctively gripped the bedsheets. She kept her eyes closed as tears slid down from the corners. When Phoebe fully regained consciousness, it was already noon on the third day. The moment she opened her eyes, she saw her assistant Ruby Simpson keeping watch by her bedside. “Ms. Hamilton, you’re finally awake. You nearly scared me to death,” Ruby said. Her eyes were red and swollen, her voice choked with emotion. With Ruby’s help, Phoebe sat up and tried to speak, only to find she couldn’t make a sound. “Ms. Hamilton, don’t worry. The doctor said you inhaled too much smoke and dust—it’s normal not to be able to speak right after waking up,” Ruby comforted her. “You’ll be fine in a little while.” Only then did Phoebe feel relieved. She typed on her phone: [What happened to the clothes in the studio?] “By the time the firefighters arrived, all the clothes and design sketches had burned up. They only managed to save a few computers, but those were badly damaged too,” Ruby said. “Ms. Hamilton, I’m afraid we won’t be able to complete this order.” Ruby looked dejected, her eyes filled with frustration. Phoebe slumped back against the hospital bed, staring blankly at her fingers. The ring that symbolized her love with Hugo still sparkled brightly. But Hugo’s words that she’d heard in her semi-conscious state kept echoing in her mind. Hugo knew she was still working overtime, yet he hadn’t hesitated to set that fire. Did it not matter what harm came to her as long as she didn’t die? Phoebe slowly closed her eyes, suppressing the bitterness in her heart. She continued typing on her phone: [There’s something wrong with this fire. Go investigate it.] Ruby’s expression changed. Just as she was about to speak, the hospital room door was pushed open. Phoebe immediately turned off her phone screen. Hugo strode forward, pushing Ruby aside and grabbing Phoebe’s hand. “Phoebe, you’re finally awake. I was so worried about you,” he said. The Hugo before her looked deeply affectionate, and Phoebe couldn’t detect any flaws in his act. However, Phoebe’s heart remained completely unmoved. Hugo continued, “I know you really wanted to wear a wedding dress you designed yourself, but… it’s okay, Phoebe. I already prepared a backup plan. What do you think of this wedding dress?” Hugo pulled out his phone and showed her a photo of the wedding dress. Phoebe had to admit that from a designer’s perspective, this wedding dress was flawless. But the person who had once worn this dress was none other than Emilia.
Phoebe’s hand suddenly gripped Hugo’s arm. Hugo explained, “Emilia used to work as a bridal model for a while. This photo was just taken by chance. Phoebe, don’t overthink it. But I know you’re the most understanding person, so you definitely won’t get upset over something so trivial.” Hugo pulled his hand away and gently stroked Phoebe’s head. He was too confident, certain that Phoebe would never leave him. So his five years of pretended devotion finally showed its cracks in this moment. Phoebe suppressed the anger in her heart and smiled at Hugo. That day, Phoebe was discharged from the hospital and went home with Hugo. In just three days, Phoebe discovered that many things in the house had changed. Her favorite lilies had been replaced, and the entire hall was now filled with vibrant roses. Medieval oil paintings hung on the walls, and the carpet had been changed to a Bohemian style that Phoebe disliked. Even all the dinnerware had been replaced with new sets. Hugo stood behind Phoebe and said softly, “We’re getting married soon, so it’s better to replace everything in the house with new things. It’s also a nice symbol.” Phoebe had her back to him, so he couldn’t see the coldness on her face. The roses, oil paintings, carpet, and dinnerware were all things Emilia liked. With three days left until their wedding, was Hugo already this impatient? Phoebe said nothing and pretended not to notice anything. But Hugo became increasingly brazen, even replacing all of Phoebe’s clothes with styles that Emilia preferred. He called it “trying a different style.” On this day, with two days left until their wedding, Hugo took Phoebe directly to a banquet hosted by the Ferguson family. The moment they stepped into the banquet hall, everyone’s eyes fell on them. Years ago, everyone knew about Hugo and Emilia’s romance. They were about to get engaged when Emilia died from illness. Later, Hugo maintained contact with the Ferguson family. Until five years ago, when Phoebe appeared. “Hugo, is this your fiancée?” A woman who bore a five-point resemblance to Emilia walked up to them. She wore a gentle smile on her face, but her gaze toward Phoebe was particularly cold. Hugo smiled and said, “Long time no see, Freya. Phoebe, this is Emilia’s sister, Freya Ferguson.” Freya smiled and linked arms with Phoebe. She said softly, “Phoebe, I really envy you for being able to marry such a wonderful man like Hugo. Unfortunately, my sister Emilia didn’t have that kind of luck.” Phoebe wanted to say, “Want me to give you this luck?” But she maintained her smile on the surface. Freya smiled and said, “Hugo, go ahead and mingle. Just leave Phoebe with me.” Hugo said, “Thank you for that.” He reached out and patted Freya’s head, then turned and walked away. Freya was quite popular, and many people greeted her along the way. Phoebe couldn’t figure out her intentions, so she could only follow cautiously beside her. It wasn’t until they reached a quiet corner with fewer people that Freya finally revealed her true purpose. She said coldly, “Phoebe, what right do you have to marry Hugo?” Freya’s smile disappeared, replaced by resentment and jealousy. Phoebe took a step back and asked warily, “What are you trying to do?” Freya said coldly, “You women are like flies—you can never kill them all. I originally thought that after Emilia died, it would be my turn to marry Hugo. But what happened? Hugo did notice me, but every time he looked at me, he was seeing Emilia through me. Phoebe, you’re the least qualified of all. You’re the one who should disappear.” Just when Phoebe thought Freya was about to do something to her, Freya suddenly fell backward. Her body crashed heavily into the table. Immediately, all the knives and forks on the table fell down, and one happened to land on Freya’s face. That face, which bore a five-point resemblance to Emilia, immediately showed a bloody gash. Freya cried out, “My face!” Freya covered her face, letting out an agonizing scream. Blood seeped through her fingers, dripping onto her light-colored haute couture gown—a horrifying sight. Though Phoebe had anticipated Freya would frame her, the scene before her left her frozen in shock. The commotion quickly drew everyone’s attention. Hugo and Freya’s parents, Blake Ferguson and Maisie Ferguson, hurried over. Blake frowned, asking sternly, “What’s all this arguing about? What happened? Freya, what’s wrong with your face?” Upon seeing Freya’s condition, his expression changed instantly. Panic-stricken, he stepped forward to support Freya’s shoulders. “Freya!” Maisie shrieked, completely losing her usual composure. The couple’s faces turned ashen as they instinctively shot hateful glares at Phoebe. “Dad, Mom, what about my face? What am I going to do now?” Freya’s voice trembled. Tears mixed with blood made her look both pitiful and terrifying. Maisie comforted her, “Don’t be afraid, Freya. We’ll definitely get you healed.” She helped Freya up and immediately led her away from the scene. Despite having seen through Hugo’s true nature, Phoebe instinctively sought comfort from him in that moment. She clutched tightly at Hugo’s sleeve, looking at him anxiously. Phoebe explained, “I didn’t do this, I really didn’t. You have to believe me, Hugo.” However, Hugo merely glanced at her indifferently without saying a word. Blake said angrily, “Mr. Taylor, I graciously invited you to attend this banquet. And what happened? What did your fiancée do to my daughter?” Blake looked both heartbroken and furious. Hugo lowered his head, saying quietly, “I’m sorry. This is my responsibility. But I believe Phoebe didn’t mean it.” Blake cut off Hugo’s words: “So what if she didn’t mean it? It’s already happened. What I want to see is your attitude and the price she’ll pay.” With just a few words, they had condemned Phoebe. Phoebe finally snapped back to reality. The moment Hugo reached for her hand, she yanked it away forcefully. She said, “It wasn’t me. I didn’t push her, she did it herself…” Blake said coldly, “Are you saying my daughter destroyed her own face just to frame you?” Looking at Blake’s cold expression, Phoebe stood there stunned, thinking: “Yes. But why? If it was just to frame me, would she really need to go this far? But if it wasn’t to frame me, then what was it for?” Hugo said flatly, “Enough, Phoebe. Since you did something wrong, you need to pay the price. I know you don’t like Emilia, and you don’t like Freya either. But this time, you’ve gone too far.” His tone was calm, but his eyes held deep sadness as he looked at Phoebe. Then Hugo reached out, gently caressing Phoebe’s face. He said, “Phoebe, trust me. Even if you lose this face, I’ll still love you.” Hugo’s voice was gentle, but Phoebe felt utterly terrified. She looked at Hugo in disbelief. This man who had once donated his kidney for her without hesitation was now ready to destroy her face just as readily. Tears of terror slid down Phoebe’s cheeks. She shook her head, backing away step by step. Phoebe cried, “No, Hugo, you can’t do this to me. I didn’t do anything. Why are you all treating me like this?” Phoebe turned to flee, but heard Hugo’s demonic whisper behind her. He said, “Grab her.” Almost as soon as he finished speaking, two men rushed out from the crowd and seized Phoebe’s arms. Phoebe struggled desperately, but it was useless. She could only watch helplessly as Hugo approached her slowly, knife in hand. Phoebe roared, “Let me go! Let me go! Hugo, you can’t do this! You can’t treat me like this! Let me go! Please, Hugo. I’m begging you. I shouldn’t have thrown away Emilia’s things. I was wrong. I know I was wrong.” Phoebe’s pleas didn’t soften Hugo’s heart. His hand didn’t tremble in the slightest. The next second, the knife’s edge touched Phoebe’s face. “Ah!” Phoebe screamed. Phoebe passed out from the pain. When she woke up again, she was lying in her bed at home. It wasn’t until the bandages were changed that evening that she truly saw her face. Looking at the mirror, Phoebe stared at her reflection—a face covered in knife wounds, fierce and terrifying—and could hardly believe it was her own. Hugo had clearly been ruthless that day; some of the wounds had edges where the flesh had curled back. The day before the wedding, Phoebe spotted Freya sneaking into the house from her bedroom window. Curious, Phoebe quietly slipped downstairs, avoiding the servants. She saw Hugo receiving Freya in the courtyard. Hiding behind a large tree, Phoebe eavesdropped on their conversation. Freya said, “Hugo, didn’t you promise that if I framed her and let her ruin my face, you would marry me? Why are you still going through with marrying her? Why?” No wonder Freya had been so desperate to destroy her own face—it was Hugo who had instigated it. Phoebe felt terrified. Compared to Freya’s urgency, Hugo appeared completely composed. He reached out to embrace Freya, gently caressing her face before saying, “Of course I’ll keep my promise. On the wedding day, make sure you dress nicely.” Freya’s face flushed with color, clearly misunderstanding Hugo’s words. She flirted with Hugo for a while longer before reluctantly leaving at his urging. Phoebe peered out, watching Hugo’s retreating figure. After Freya left, Hugo quickly stripped off his jacket and threw it on the ground in disgust. He said, “Disgusting. She actually wants to be with her sister’s boyfriend—what a slut! If it weren’t for her face bearing some resemblance to Emilia’s, I wouldn’t bother with her. Now Emilia’s face is truly one of a kind in this world. After tomorrow’s wedding is over, Emilia and I can finally be together forever.” Hugo’s expression looked somewhat crazed. Phoebe shuddered and turned off her phone’s recording function. On the wedding day, there were particularly many guests. To maintain his image as a good man, Hugo threw a lavish wedding. He not only spent a fortune on the wedding venue but even arranged for a global live broadcast. Phoebe’s facial wounds hadn’t healed yet, so she could only temporarily hide them with her veil. Looking at herself in the mirror, Phoebe wore a mocking expression. Without makeup and wearing someone else’s wedding dress, she was probably the first person to experience such a wedding. Phoebe left the dressing room, and the wedding ceremony officially began. The two walked to the minister’s side and held hands under his guidance. Hugo looked deeply moved, even with tears in his eyes. He said, “Phoebe, from the moment I first met you five years ago, I knew I had to marry you in this lifetime. These five years have flown by because of your companionship. Today, we’ve finally reached our wedding day. Phoebe, will you marry me?” Hugo’s tone held no hesitation, certain that Phoebe would agree. Phoebe smiled, but her words were ice-cold: “Of course I won’t. I won’t marry a murderer who wants to kill me.” As soon as Phoebe finished speaking, the guests below fell into immediate silence. Then came an even louder buzz of discussion than before. Hugo’s face darkened, but he still forced a smile and said, “Phoebe, what are you talking about? What murderer? Did someone tell you something? How could I bear to hurt you?” Phoebe looked toward Ruby in the audience, and Ruby, under Hugo’s murderous glare, quickly stepped forward and handed Phoebe her phone. Immediately, Phoebe opened the phone and played a surveillance video. She said, “This surveillance footage is from outside my studio at Spaghetti, recorded on the day my studio caught fire. Hugo, you should recognize this man in the video, shouldn’t you?” Hugo’s face changed, and he said through gritted teeth, “That person is indeed my driver, but I had absolutely no knowledge of this. It was entirely his own doing. Phoebe, everyone knows how well I’ve treated you these past five Christmases. How can you doubt my feelings for you based on one video?” Hugo frowned and lowered his voice, putting on a wounded and aggrieved expression. But Phoebe remained unfazed and pulled out a voice recorder, saying, “Regarding what just happened, you claim he acted alone, but surely you can’t deny this, can you?” The next second, Hugo’s voice echoed throughout the entire venue: “Once tomorrow’s wedding is over, Emilia and I can finally be together forever.” His face instantly turned pale. Below the stage, Freya’s eyes widened as she roared in fury, “You lied! You deceived me! Hugo, you clearly promised me that as long as Phoebe’s face was ruined, you would marry me. Hugo, how dare you lie to me!” Upon hearing this, Freya completely lost her mind and loudly accused him. If not for the bodyguards restraining her, she would have already rushed onto the stage. Looking at the silent Hugo, Phoebe sneered, “You want to use my heart to revive your lover? Hugo, that’s absolutely impossible.” Phoebe lifted her wedding dress and pulled out the dagger strapped to her calf. Hugo shouted in shock, “What are you doing? Phoebe, don’t do anything foolish! Stop her! Don’t let her—” Before Hugo could finish his words, Phoebe had already plunged the blade deep into his heart. He thought Phoebe was going to commit suicide, never expecting she intended to kill him. Blood gushed out as Hugo collapsed heavily to the ground. Even now, he couldn’t comprehend what had just happened—why would Phoebe, who once loved him enough to risk her life, become the one to kill him? The scene erupted into chaos. The moment Hugo closed his eyes, Phoebe’s soul was extracted from her body, and a pleasant electronic voice rang in her ears: “Host, congratulations on completing your mission. You may prepare to go home now.”
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