My brother was born evil. He’s been trying to kill me since we were kids. When he was five, he threw a lit lighter at me. Half my face was disfigured, my sweat glands permanently destroyed. The burning, itching pain never stops. When I told the truth through my tears, Mom held me and cried too. “I know you’re hurting, sweetheart, but your brother’s just a baby. He couldn’t possibly do something like that.” When he was ten, he deliberately sent me into a thicket hiding a hornets’ nest to fetch a ball. I was attacked by countless hornets. I tumbled down the hill and broke my leg. My kidneys were permanently damaged—I’ll need a catheter bag for the rest of my life. Once again, nobody believed me. “How can you blame your brother when we didn’t watch where you were going?” “Emma, could you please be more careful? Stop causing trouble for this family.” On my eighteenth birthday, he deliberately shoved an entire slice of peanut butter cake into my mouth. My throat swelled shut instantly. I collapsed, consciousness fading. After watching me nearly die, my brother ran out. “Dad! Mom! Emma ate cake and had an allergic reaction! Come quick!” Mom was screaming. Dad was cursing. “This damn girl is always causing problems. Why doesn’t she just die already!” I smiled. [Congratulations on achieving the hidden ending condition: Death #99.] [In 24 hours, the portal to the real world will open.]
My airway was almost completely closed. My breathing sounded like a broken accordion, yet I couldn’t draw in any air. I lay on the floor, barely conscious, hearing only hurried footsteps in the distance. When Dad burst in, the first thing he did was slap me hard across the face. Twice. “Always eating! So greedy! I must have owed you in a past life! Can’t you give me one day of peace!” Mom rummaged frantically across the table. “Where’s the EpiPen? Where did this stupid girl put something that could save her life?” When I first got injured, emergency medication was stashed in every corner of the house. At the slightest cough, Mom would nervously pat my back. “Are you okay, Emma? Should I take you to the hospital?” But as the incidents piled up, the concern in my parents’ eyes turned to exhaustion. Eventually, I dragged myself to follow-up appointments alone, limping out the door on my injured leg. Of course she had no idea where I kept the medication. Dad’s face darkened. He dumped the entire drawer onto the floor, his tone growing more irritated. “Maybe it’s better if we don’t find it. Then we’d all be free.” Two minutes later, they finally found it in a cabinet. Mom’s hands trembled as she jabbed the needle into my thigh. The suffocation gradually faded, but the angry red hives covering my body still itched unbearably. My muscles ached so badly I couldn’t move from where I lay on the floor. Mom glanced at Dad, a flicker of guilt in her eyes. “Maybe we should take her to the hospital to get checked out?” Hesitation crossed Dad’s face, but then he erupted again. “Hospital? Every cent we make goes to her!” “Lucas, next time your sister pulls another stunt, don’t even bother telling us. Once she’s gone, this family can finally live in peace.” He stormed out, slamming the door. Mom sighed and followed. Lucas crouched by my ear and whispered with a soft laugh. “Can’t die, can’t escape. Frustrating, isn’t it?” “Guess what new game I’ll come up with next time?” He left looking pleased with himself, so he didn’t see the genuine smile on my face. Finally. I’m the one who’s truly free. Back when I was severely ill and didn’t want to burden my family, I jumped from the rooftop. That’s when I heard the System’s voice. [Hello, Host. Survival instinct detected at less than 10%. Initiating Rebirth Redemption scenario.] [If you complete the mission and return to the real world, your reward will be a healthy new life.] My mission was to reform my born-evil brother, Lucas. So from the day he was born, I devoted myself to caring for him, talking to him every day. But on the very first night Lucas could speak, he suddenly looked at me with an eerie smile. [You’re the 99th host I’ve encountered. I killed all the others. Hope you’re luckier.] That’s when I learned he was a corrupted transmigrator. Lucas was experienced. Soon I was covered in injuries and had lost my parents’ trust completely. When I lay dying in a hospital bed from severe burns, the System’s voice returned. [Due to a critical bug in this world, the Host has unlocked a hidden ending.] [Meeting the condition of 99 deaths also counts as successful mission completion.] The truth is, every one of Lucas’s attacks should have killed me. The System kept me alive—barely—all this time. I gritted my teeth through over a decade of his torture, all for this moment. [After 24 hours, the return portal will open. You need only experience Death #100 to successfully depart.] I struggled to crawl back onto my bed. My finger accidentally pressed the emergency alarm on the headboard, triggering a loud buzz. Hurried footsteps approached. The door was thrown open again.
Dad stood in the doorway, panting, car keys clutched in his hand. Mom looked me up and down, still shaken. “What now?” I shook my head weakly. “Nothing, I just—” The car keys were hurled into my face. My nose felt like it had shattered. “If it’s nothing, why’d you press the alarm! Do you want me and your mother to die because of you before you’re satisfied!” “You’re already useless. Is your mind that twisted too? Learn something from your brother! Have some sense!” Looking at his hysterical rage, I no longer felt my heart being carved to pieces. Stolen happiness always has to be returned eventually. Before Lucas was born, my parents treated me like their precious treasure. Everything I ate, wore, and used was the best they could afford. When I mentioned wanting to learn piano, Dad worked overtime for three months to buy me the most expensive brand and hire the best teacher. When a boy at school cut my hair, my shy mother stormed into the school and confronted those unreasonable people, standing up for me. In the real world, I was raised by my grandmother. I never knew what it felt like to have a complete family. For a moment, I even thought—how wonderful it would be to stay with them forever. But then he came, and everything ended. Even as an infant, Lucas would spit on my face. When I got upset and pinched his cheek, Mom pulled me aside, her face full of disappointment. “Emma, you’re the older sister. How could you hurt your brother! Everything we taught you was for nothing!” After I was burned, every time my wounds flared up, I would break down crying and grab Mom’s hand. “He really did throw the lighter at me! He’s been this evil since the day he was born. He’ll destroy our whole family!” “There’s still time. We can watch him together. Don’t let him fool you!” At first, they would comfort me. Then one day Dad smashed an ashtray on the floor, his eyes bloodshot. “Emma, we’ve tolerated your tantrums once, twice—fine, we humored you.” “But now you’ve gone too far! It was clearly an accident you caused yourself, and you’re trying to blame your baby brother!” He was so angry he wanted to hit me, but Mom desperately held him back. “Emma, listen to me. We’re both women, I know what you’re thinking.” “But if you’re jealous of your brother and try to get our attention this way, we’ll only hate you more!” Lucas found opportunities to hurt me regularly, and my parents grew increasingly impatient with me. Once he pushed me off a slide. I landed headfirst on the ground and lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was still lying on the concrete. Mom stood over me, arms crossed. “Your brother did this too? How long are you going to keep playing victim?” “Do you think the hospital is your personal property? I can barely pay off my credit cards!” From then on, I gave up completely. I let go of any hope of redemption. Seeing me silent, Mom reached down to help me up. Lucas’s eyes darted, and he suddenly cried out loudly. “Mom! Dad! Say something to me!” “I was standing right next to the alarm. It was so loud—I think it damaged my ears.” Mom’s face went pale. She dropped me, and my leg slammed hard against the floor. “Then let’s get you to the hospital right away. This is serious.” Dad grabbed my hair and dragged me furiously toward the basement. “This damn girl causes problems every day. She’s already a wreck, and now she wants to ruin her brother too!” “Stay in here and think about what you’ve done! No dinner tonight!” The basement door slammed shut. The room was pitch black—I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. All I could hear was rats scurrying past. I closed my eyes quietly and waited for my chance to go home. After what felt like forever, someone shook me awake.
Dad threw a coat at me, his tone flat. “Put it on. Come with me.” My whole body felt like it was about to explode with pain. A sudden high fever made my head swim. Dad’s expression grew impatient. Mom grabbed my arm and started stuffing it into the coat sleeves. “Emma, be good, don’t fight us. We’re doing this for your own good.” Suddenly she stopped. “Why are you burning up? Are you—” Mom’s hand was about to touch my forehead when Lucas put on an exaggerated performance, his voice strained. “Do we really have to send Emma to a nursing home? I can quit tutoring, stop hanging out with friends on weekends—save all the money and time to take care of her.” “Emma, just apologize. Promise not to cause Mom and Dad any more trouble. We can get through this as a family.” Years ago, when one of Dad’s friends visited and saw my condition, he suggested sending me to a nursing home. Dad slammed the table in anger. “Your father-in-law died within a month of being put in one of those places. You want me to kill my own daughter?” “As long as this family has food to eat, I will never let Emma live alone in a place like that!” Looking back now, it seems almost ironic. I shook my head weakly. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” Mom’s hand froze mid-air. Disgust crossed her face. Dad grew even angrier and grabbed my arm, dragging me toward the door. “I should have sent you away long ago. Wasting my time on an ungrateful wretch like you.” I was thrown into the back seat. Every bump felt like a thousand knives stabbing my organs. Even breathing became difficult. I gritted my teeth, losing consciousness over and over, jolted awake each time by the pain, until the car finally stopped in front of a run-down building. The director wore a grimy white coat as he settled me into a wheelchair. “You came at just the right time. A bed just opened up.” “Once you pay the fees, we can process her admission.” Before we even entered, I heard someone inside screaming in agony and the sound of things being smashed. Several burly men rushed in and pinned him down like an animal, injecting something into his neck. The man’s eyes went vacant. He lay motionless on the floor. Mom was too scared to go inside. “What’s wrong with him? And our daughter is a girl—how can you put her in a room with a man?” The director smiled as if this were routine. “He just has a mental illness. He’s fine when he’s lucid.” “All the other rooms are full. Besides, once everyone ends up here, does it really matter if it’s a man or a woman?” Dad’s face was dark, but he said nothing. Mom’s eyes flickered toward me. After a long silence, Dad sighed and was about to speak when Lucas cut in. “Dad, Mom, the air in here is making me feel sick. I think I might be getting a fever.” “Emma grew up with me, so she should be pretty used to younger guys, right?” He forced out a few coughs, his face reddening. Mom and Dad quickly pushed him toward the exit. “Okay, okay, let’s go. Director, we’ll leave Emma in your care.” I was thrown onto a bed by the staff like a dead pig. After the director left, no one came to check on us. Late that night, the man on the floor woke up. He turned his head and saw me. A crazed, eerie smile spread across his face. He pulled a small fruit knife from under his pillow, playfully traced it across my body a few times, then stabbed it deep into my thigh. Blood splattered onto the sheets. I was too weak to move a single finger. Even if I could move, I had long since stopped wanting to fight back. He went into a frenzy, slashing at my face and body. The room echoed with the sound of flesh being torn. I bit down hard on my lip, swallowing every scream. Just a little longer. Then I’ll be free. After what felt like an eternity, I looked at my mutilated body. The System’s voice sounded in my ear. [Congratulations on clearing the scenario. The return portal will open at noon. Please wait.] I drifted out and wandered around. Around eight in the morning, I actually saw Mom and Dad appear in the corridor. Mom’s eyes were red. “I couldn’t sleep all night. No matter how angry we were, we shouldn’t have left Emma here.” Dad seemed a bit impatient, but his tone softened. “You women are always so sentimental.” “Let’s see how she’s adjusting. If it’s not working out and she apologizes to me, I suppose we could take her back.” The director rolled his eyes when they weren’t looking. “They got along great. Not a sound from either of them last night.” “But just so you know—if you want to leave now, I can only refund half the fees.” The card reader beeped. The door was pushed open.
The director made a satisfied round of the room. “See? I told you everything was fine. They’re both sleeping peacefully.” My roommate had dissociative identity disorder. His normal personality had surfaced briefly around dawn. Seeing the hellish scene in the room, he had frantically wiped away all the blood, then stuffed the soiled bedding into a cabinet. So apart from a faint smell of blood, my mutilated body was hidden beneath a neatly arranged thick blanket, as if I were simply fast asleep. Dad cleared his throat awkwardly and struck a pose at the doorway. “See? I told you she’s fine. What time is it and she’s still sleeping?” “Her parents are here and she can’t even get up to say hello?” Mom walked a few steps closer and set a meal container on the nightstand. “Alright, Emma. I know you must be upset. That’s why I got up at five this morning to make your favorite noodles.” “Go wash up, eat, apologize properly to your father, write a promise letter, and then we’ll take you home, okay?” It was always like this before. First they’d blow up at me because of Lucas’s manipulation, then once their guilt kicked in, they’d make me some food to smooth things over. The truth is, I never liked noodles. I just went along with it for their sake. When Mom saw I wasn’t responding, she reached to pull back my blanket. The man in the next bed suddenly shot upright and let out a piercing scream. “Ahhh! Don’t touch it! Everyone out! Get out!” Mom immediately retreated to the doorway, gasping for breath. “Emma, why are you being so difficult? Get up now!” Staff rushed in when they heard the commotion, expertly strapping him to the bed with restraints and giving him another sedative injection to calm him down. An older staff member noticed the blood between the man’s fingers and suddenly frowned. “Didn’t you secure him properly last night? Look at the blood on his hands and sleeves. Did something happen between them?” The new employee’s pupils contracted for a moment before he forced himself to speak. “Impossible. I watched them all night. They were completely calm.” He patted the edge of my bed. “Hey, everything okay last night? I told you to press the call button if anything happened.” Of course I couldn’t answer. Another staff member looked suspiciously at my bed and reached to pull the blanket away. “Miss, please wake up. Are you injured? Can you speak?” A bit of my hair was visible. Just a little more and they would see the knife wounds he’d carved into me. That’s when my dad bellowed. “My daughter is a girl! A grown man pulling off her blanket—that’s harassment!” “If you need to check, send a female staff member!” The male attendant stepped back, exasperated. “Then perhaps your wife could check? Once we confirm she’s okay, we’ll leave.” Mom nodded. Lucas covered his mouth and began his performance. “Emma must have been awake for a while now. I remember she’s always been a light sleeper.” “When she’s in a mood, she just ignores everyone. If you pull off her blanket, she’ll probably throw a tantrum.” “Mom, you know how extreme Emma can be. Maybe we shouldn’t provoke her.” Dad nodded at this and stood up with a sweeping gesture. “He’s right. Why are we still indulging her? Let’s go. I want to see how long this stubborn girl can keep up her attitude!” Mom kept looking back as they left, but in the end, she followed behind him. I watched them get in the car and drive farther and farther from the nursing home. The System sent a notification. [Host, the return portal is now open. You may prepare for departure at any time.] Before pressing confirm, I pulled my hand back and followed that car. [Wait a little longer. I want to see how long it takes them to realize they killed their own daughter with their own hands.]
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