One second I was accepting an award in Milan, the next I was hooded and shoved onto a private jet. I woke at the Thorne estate. Mr. Silas Thorne was cheerfully playing chess with my grandfather. “It’s time we settled that marriage pact between your grandson and my granddaughter,” he said. While they negotiated, I slipped into the garden. Seeing a perfect rose, I reached for it—but a kick sent me stumbling down, my back burning. “Who’s this charity case touching my rose? The one Miss Thorne planted for me!” snarled a man surrounded by bodyguards. Before I could speak, he punched my face, leaving a bruise. “And now he’s stealing the engagement ring she made for me? Take it and teach him a lesson!” As the guards closed in, he smirked. “Time to clean up the riff-raff as the future Thorne son-in-law.” I glanced at the family heirloom ring on my finger, then texted my contact “Fiancée”: Isabelle Thorne, there’s a rabid dog in your garden. Are you handling this or not? 1 To my surprise, the message was immediately met with a red exclamation point. I let out a dry, humorless laugh. We hadn’t even finalized the engagement, and she’d already blocked me. “How did you sneak in here! Give Mr. Everton back his property this instant!” a housekeeper shrieked, lunging at me. I sidestepped her easily. “I am an honored guest of the Thorne family,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Is this how you treat your guests?” The man, Blake Everton, sneered and pulled out his own phone to call Isabelle Thorne—my supposed fiancée. A cool, melodious voice answered on the first ring. “What is it, Blake?” I listened closely. A nice voice. My type. Grandfather had good taste, at least. “Isabelle! There’s some pretty boy in your garden claiming to be a guest, and he stole the ring you gave me!” I cut through his whiny, dramatic tone, deciding to introduce myself before she got the wrong idea. “Miss Thorne, my name is Julian Moritz. I’m your fiancé.” There was a two-second pause as she processed the name. When she spoke again, her voice was glacial. “What fiancé? You need an invitation to enter the Thorne estate. Otherwise, you’ll be dealt with as a trespasser.” Then, her tone melted back into syrupy sweetness. “Blake, don’t be upset. It’s just a ring. I’ll buy you a new one when I get back.” My ring, a custom piece by a legendary French master, was my parents’ engagement ring. There wasn’t another one like it in the world. As I began to seriously question the wisdom of this alliance, Blake Everton doubled over with laughter. He raked his eyes over me with contempt. “You? Your clothes don’t even have a label, you piece of trash! And you have the nerve to call yourself Isabelle’s fiancé? That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard!” I had studied design abroad. The clothes I was wearing were my own creations, hence the lack of a brand name. My designs were already sought after by Europe’s elite, but this peacock couldn’t even recognize them. It made me question his credentials. The encounter had soured my mood. I turned to leave the garden. Blake blocked my path. “Didn’t you hear Isabelle? You need an invitation. You claim to be an honored guest, so where is it?” I rolled my eyes and reached into my pocket, but found nothing. I vaguely remembered my grandfather saying we wouldn’t need one. Seeing my empty hand, his smirk widened. “A liar, just as I thought! Men! Get the ring off him, tie him up, and throw him out!” I shielded the ring with my hand and took a step back, my expression hardening. A few of the maids approached me, their faces full of pity. “Sir, you should just give it back to Mr. Everton. You have no idea what he’s capable of.” “That’s right, that ring is a symbol of their love! They grew up together. Miss Thorne won’t let you get away with this.” “I saw it with my own eyes… a man just got a little dirt on Mr. Everton’s suit, and the next day, he’d lost a hand!” Their warnings only fueled Blake’s arrogance. “You hear that? Get on your knees, place the ring respectfully in my hand, and then get the hell out of here. Otherwise, you’ll end up just like the man who dirtied my suit.” 2 In my entire life, people had only ever kneeled to me. The last person who dared to speak to me like that was six feet under. I stepped forward and drove my fist into his face. His head snapped to the side, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You dare hit me?!” He clutched his cheek and screamed at his bodyguards, who immediately rushed me. A slow, cold smile spread across my lips. When I first went abroad, my grandfather, fearing I would be bullied, had personally taught me combat. A few untrained bodyguards were nothing. With a series of precise strikes, I sent them spinning, dazed and confused. “Pathetic.” I flexed my slightly numb knuckles and turned to leave, ignoring Blake’s enraged shrieks. Suddenly, a maid cried out, “Miss Thorne is back!” I looked up. A woman in a couture gown was striding toward us, her face a mask of cold fury. Blake’s vicious expression vanished, replaced by one of a wounded puppy. He grabbed Isabelle’s hand. “Isabelle! You’re finally back! I was being bullied so badly!” I had to admit, Isabelle Thorne was stunning. She could have easily made a name for herself in Hollywood. It was a shame, then, that even knowing she was engaged to me, she was cupping her childhood sweetheart’s face with such tender concern. I scoffed. I needed to get Grandfather and go home. This marriage was dead on arrival. I ignored their little drama and headed for the garden exit. “Hold it. You think you can just walk away after touching my man?” Isabelle didn’t even look at me. She gestured, and two of her bodyguards moved to block my path. I let out a long, weary sigh and turned to face her. “Miss Thorne, my grandfather is currently in your grandfather’s study discussing our engagement. If they find out about this, it won’t look good for you, will it?” At the mention of her grandfather, the maids’ expressions shifted. “What? Is he really her fiancé?” “Who cares? Look how protective she is of Mr. Everton. This marriage is probably off anyway.” “Exactly. We’d better not say the wrong thing and offend Mr. Everton. You know what he’s like.” The word “engagement” only seemed to darken Isabelle’s mood. “What marriage pact? I never agreed to it. Besides, my grandfather adores me. He would never force me to marry some broke nobody from god-knows-where.” Blake shot me a triumphant look over her shoulder. “Isabelle and I are soulmates. How dare a common thief dream of taking my place?” I nodded slowly. A perfect match of trash. They deserved each other. It’s just, my grandfather had told me that of all the families who had sought an alliance with ours, the Thornes had put in the most effort. I’d met Silas Thorne a few times; he was a good man. I could only imagine the storm that would erupt when he found out his own granddaughter had sabotaged the marriage he’d worked so hard to secure. But you can’t help it when a fine bamboo stalk produces a rotten shoot. 3 I shook my head in pity and was about to leave when Blake shouted, “Don’t let him go! The ring Isabelle gave me is still on his hand!” At a signal from Isabelle, the bodyguards seized me. They tried to wrench the ring off, but it was custom-fitted to my finger. They couldn’t budge it. “Blake, if this is your ring, why does it fit my finger so perfectly?” I taunted. His face flushed with anger. “It’s because you’re fatter than me! You forced it on, that’s why it’s stuck!” he spat. “Get an electric saw!” My expression changed. This was bad. I hadn’t brought my own security. Isabelle’s bodyguards were huge and numerous. I fought back, but they quickly exploited an opening and slammed me to the ground. Blake squatted in front of me, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He grabbed my chin. “Still acting tough? Weren’t you so tough a minute ago?” He slapped me hard across the face, the grit from the path scraping my cheek and drawing blood. Isabelle stared at me for a moment, then a cruel smile touched her lips. “Did that hurt your hand, Blake? Want to see something more fun?” His eyes lit up. “Tie him to the boat in the middle of the pond!” My own eyes widened in horror. I looked at her face, which was now glowing with a sick excitement. Did she know something? “No! You’ll regret this!” Blake laughed, a manic edge to his voice. “Regret? That word isn’t in my vocabulary. But you? You’re about to regret ever touching what’s mine.” The guards dragged me to the large pond in the center of the garden and threw me into a decrepit, rocking rowboat, tying me down with thick ropes. Before I could even open my eyes, they flipped me onto my stomach and brought an electric saw buzzing toward my hand. A scream tore from my throat as searing pain shot up my arm. The ring was instantly slick with my blood. “Looks like another one who didn’t know his place is about to lose his life.” “Such a handsome young man, too. If only he hadn’t been so stubborn. Miss Thorne will never let him go now. He’ll lose a finger, at least.” “This is too cruel. I can’t watch.” The maids and servants chattered on the edge of the pond, but their voices were already fading into a dull roar. I thrashed against the ropes, the old boat groaning and slapping against the water. The scene was sickeningly similar to the day my parents were lost at sea. A deep-seated terror clawed its way out from the depths of my mind. My face went deathly pale. My hands clamped over my head of their own accord, my own blood smearing down my cheeks. “No! Please! Let me up!” But Blake and Isabelle just stood on the bank, watching the show. Blake even kicked the boat, sending me drifting toward the center of the pond. Through a blur of pain and fear, I saw him smugly holding up my ring. Isabelle wrapped her arms around him. “It’s covered in that trash’s filthy blood,” she cooed. “Throw it away. I’ll buy you a new one.” Over my desperate screams, they casually tossed the ring into the water. “Isabelle Thorne! Aren’t you afraid of what my grandfather will do to you?!” 4 She just laughed, her eyes full of contempt, as if she were looking at garbage. “Your grandfather? Who does he think he is? The Moritz family is nothing but you and that old man now! You cursed your own parents to death, and he actually wants me to marry a jinx like you? He must be dreaming!” My world narrowed to a single point of pain. Cursed your own parents to death. The words were a knife, twisting in my heart. On my eighth birthday, my parents were on a cruise, sailing home to celebrate with me. A storm blew in, and the captain urged them to wait it out at port. But I had called them, crying, telling them I missed them. So they took a smaller boat themselves, trying to make it back in time. Just as they were nearing the shore, a monstrous wave, five meters high, rose from the sea and crashed down upon them. Their boat capsized right in front of my eyes. The memory, dragged up by Isabelle’s words, played over and over in my mind. I curled into a ball in the bottom of the boat, trembling, mumbling the same words again and again. “Dad… Mom… I’m sorry. I don’t want you to come back for my birthday anymore…” Blake clapped his hands in delight. “So he really is bad luck! No wonder he feels so cursed! Isabelle, we should stay away from him before we catch his bad luck!” No one abroad knew about my past. At home, Grandfather had forbidden anyone from ever mentioning it, even going so far as to have the lake on our own estate filled in, just so I wouldn’t have to see it. The guilt and grief had been buried for years, but now it erupted, and all I wanted was to throw myself into the water and atone for what I’d done. Suddenly, my phone rang. The custom ringtone I had set for my grandfather. A flicker of clarity cut through the fog in my mind. The Moritz family was just me and him now. He had lost his son and daughter-in-law. His pain was no less than mine. If I left him, too… I couldn’t bear to think of it. I took a shuddering breath, fighting the suicidal impulse, and struggled to reach my phone. But Blake saw. He had his men start throwing rocks at me. My body, already weak from the resurfacing trauma, was trembling uncontrollably. A rock hit my hand, and the phone skittered away, falling into the water. It flickered twice and went dark. The rocks also punched two large holes in the old boat. Icy water seeped in, chilling me to the bone. “Julian Moritz, didn’t you want to join your parents? I’m giving you the chance! You should be thanking me!” Isabelle said, her arms crossed as she watched me sink. “And as for your grandfather, that old geezer, when he gets here, I’ll make sure your whole family has a reunion at the bottom of this pond!” I struggled weakly, but it was no use. Grandfather… I’m sorry… Just as the water closed over my nose, a familiar, heavy tread echoed from behind them. An ebony cane swung through the air. “I’d like to see who’s sending my family to its reunion!”

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I’m the kind of girl who crawled out of the gutter, damp and shadowed, yet somehow I landed Kian Wilde, the king of campus. Four months into our relationship, Kian’s beautiful first love, Sienna, transferred to our university just for him. During gym class, they were at it again, openly flirting for everyone to see. Sienna shot me a triumphant, challenging look from the corner of her eye. Students from several classes were pointing at me, whispering, waiting for the punchline. My face went pale. I shrank into a corner, head down, playing dead. But as soon as class was over, I shoved Kian into an empty classroom, slammed him against the door, and kissed him with a desperate, frantic hunger. “Next time you get that close to her,” I hissed against his lips, “I’ll kiss you senseless right out in the open.” 1 Kian’s lips were slightly swollen from where I’d bitten them. He frowned. “Maya, can you stop talking about kissing me senseless all the time?” “Besides,” he added, his voice tight with frustration, “I’ve already explained this. Our families are old friends. If Sienna talks to me, am I supposed to just ignore her?” That was his way of saying he wasn’t going to change. My anger flared hotter. I lunged at him again, my right hand snaking under his t-shirt, my fingers tracing the hard lines of his abs. A laugh, half anger and half amusement, escaped him. “Damn it,” he swore, pushing me away. “You’re insane. I’ve seen people cash in on a favor, but never this desperately.” —This relationship was me cashing in on a favor. A little over four months ago, Kian was nearly hit by a modified street bike on his way back to Aurelia University. I happened to be walking behind him and shoved him out of the way at the last second. Afterward, he thanked me and asked if there was anything he could do. “Can you be my boyfriend for a year?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Kian raised an eyebrow. He was the undisputed king of AU—tall, handsome, arrogant, and rich. Countless beautiful girls had thrown themselves at him, and not a single one had succeeded. And me? I was just another ordinary girl, the kind you see everywhere on campus, the kind who always keeps her head down. When he didn’t answer, I quickly lowered my offer. “Six months is fine, too. If that bike had hit you, you might have been laid up for that long anyway, right?” He finally let out a sharp sigh. “Fine. Six months it is, my life-saver.” He had no idea. The entire thing was a trap I had designed just for him. The guy on the bike? I’d paid him with a year’s worth of my part-time job savings. And as the anchoring effect suggests, people are more likely to accept a lesser offer after being presented with a higher one. —All I ever wanted was six months. Outside, his basketball teammates were yelling for him to come to practice. I still held onto him, refusing to let go. “You and Sienna crossed a line. You have to make it up to me. Tonight, you have to do whatever I want, however I want to play.” He looked utterly exasperated. “I know, I know,” he said, trying to pry my fingers off the door handle. “Tonight, you can play all you want. Happy now, you little psycho?” 2 The sun was still bright when I finished my work-study shift at the library. My mind buzzed with excitement for tonight. I decided to head to the basketball court and wait for Kian so we could walk back together. “Maya Stone.” A voice called my name. I turned, surprised to see Neil Vance, the university’s other campus prince. I didn’t know him at all. Why was he talking to me? He walked up to me, a warm, gentle smile on his face. “We haven’t had a chance to talk since the chess tournament. This Friday night, the club is having a friendly match. I was wondering if you’d be interested in coming?” Oh, it was about the chess thing. The only reason I’d entered that tournament was for the $5,000 champion’s prize. A friendly match had no prize money. I looked down at my shoes, trying to think of a polite way to refuse. Neil added with another smile, “I was very impressed by you during the tournament. I was hoping I could take this opportunity to officially become your friend?” “Your friend?” I blushed, looking up at him. Because of my withdrawn, strange personality and my status as a scholarship student, I was something of a pariah at AU. I hadn’t made a single friend in three years. And now, a god-like figure like Neil Vance wanted to be my friend. “Yes,” he said, his eyes softening as he seemed to notice my awkwardness. “A beautiful girl like Sienna is wonderful, of course, but a girl like you, Maya, is brilliant in her own right. You deserve to be appreciated, too. That’s what I believe.” My face burned hotter. What did he mean by that? It felt like he was implying something. “O-Okay,” I stammered. “I’ll be there on Friday.” His eyes lit up. “That’s great! Friday at seven, at the club room. I’ll be there waiting for you. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.” “See you then.” I stood there for a moment, stunned by the unexpected kindness. Then, as he walked away, I silently began to follow him. 3 I rounded a corner and, just as I expected, heard a group of excited voices. “Neil, you’re amazing! She took the bait!” “She just got lucky in that chess tournament! Total fluke she won.” “Last time, that video of her soaked and exposed only went viral on the campus network. This Friday, I’m going to livestream it and make it ten times worse! I’ll make sure all the research institutes and companies see it. She’ll never get a decent job in her life!” “That’s enough,” Neil’s voice cut in, cold and sharp. “Just get everything ready. I don’t want any mistakes on Friday. Don’t give her any chance to recover.” … Their footsteps faded into the distance. I stood alone in the cool evening breeze, a little disappointed. A story about the aloof student council president falling for me after a single competition was always too much like a cheesy drama. And to think, I’d actually wasted time worrying if it was too soon to move on to Neil when I only had a month left with Kian. So, the video of me in a white shirt, soaked by two buckets of water, had been his doing all along. But a livestream on Friday, huh? “What are you doing standing here?” A familiar, magnetic voice came from behind me. I spun around, a placating smile already on my face. “A student left their headphones in the library. I was just trying to catch up to her.” Kian frowned, his gaze flickering toward the distant figures of Neil’s group. “Let’s go,” he said, turning away. I quickly trotted over and took his hand, my fingers lacing through his. He tried to pull away but failed. “It’s a hot day. Aren’t you worried about sweating?” he grumbled. “Nope. I like you. I even like the way you smell when you sweat.” It was the kind of over-the-top flattery I always laid on him. He gave me a look of disgust but let me hold his hand. 4 We had already eaten on the way, so as soon as we got back to the apartment, Kian went straight for the shower. When he came out, he had nothing on but a towel wrapped low around his hips. He was six-foot-two, all broad shoulders and narrow waist, with sharply defined muscles. Droplets of water traced the V-lines of his hips before disappearing beneath the white towel. I swallowed hard and immediately ducked into the bathroom myself. After a quick shower, my hair still half-damp, I eagerly climbed onto his lap where he sat on the sofa. I kissed him like an addict getting a fix. Kian tilted his head back, letting me have my way, but his hands were just resting lightly on my back. I’d heard that when a man truly desires a woman, he wants to breathe in her scent, to pull her into himself until there’s no space left between them. Kian never had that kind of impulse with me. But that was normal. He was only with me out of obligation. And then there were the scars crisscrossing my body—burns from cigarettes, welts from a belt, rope burns, cuts from a box cutter… No one would ever desire a body like mine. But it didn’t matter. As long as I desired his body, as long as he still responded to my touch, that was enough. And in that department, Kian never disappointed. “Little psycho,” he murmured, his voice husky. “Weren’t you going to play with me? C’mon, show me what you’ve got, hmm?” … 5 The next day, our classes were in different buildings. After we walked through the school gates, I stopped him. “Kiss me before you go.” He gave me a look that clearly said you’re insane. “Since when do you enjoy being a public spectacle?” I didn’t care. Today, I wanted the perfect college romance experience. To be kissed by the most handsome boyfriend in the world, in the gentle morning breeze, with the most adoring affection. It didn’t matter if the last part was just my imagination. In my memories, it would all be real. I held onto his hand, refusing to let go. With a sigh, Kian relented. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. I heard the gasps from the students around us and saw Sienna, waiting a short distance away, throw her coffee cup to the ground in a fit of rage. “Kian, I love you,” I whispered, then turned and walked away, my heart soaring. I was in a fantastic mood all day. Even when, between classes, someone deliberately mentioned that Kian and Sienna had sat together. Even when someone else brought up that video of me, their eyes raking over my body with a disgusting leer. Even when another person “accidentally” spilled half their milk tea on my desk. Just like always, I kept my head down and silently wiped my drenched books, page by page. A girl came over with tissues to help me. It was the same girl who had spoken up for me back in freshman year when they had accused me of stealing an earring. I held up a hand to stop her. “It’s okay. I’ll do it.” If she got too close to me, she would become unlucky too. I was fine on my own. I didn’t like dragging others down with me. After my last class, I went to my part-time job at the McDonald’s near campus. Tutoring was a more popular and lucrative option for AU students, but every time I found a gig, the parents would receive an anonymous message about my “bad character.” So, McDonald’s it was. At 9 PM, my shift ended. As usual, I used my phone to order a meal, made it myself, and placed it in front of the little girl with the dirty face who was, once again, spending the night in the restaurant with her mother, scavenging for leftovers. Then I shouldered my backpack, found a public restroom, and changed into a black hoodie and sweatpants. I pulled on a black mask and work gloves, tugged the brim of my cap down low, and melted into the night, heading back towards the university. 6 Three hundred meters from the north gate of AU, there was a short, secluded alley. It was quiet during the day and practically deserted at night. Only students who rented apartments in that direction would use it as a shortcut. In a pile of trash at the end of the alley, I found the baseball bat I had stashed earlier. I hid in the shadows of a corner and waited. About fifteen minutes later, footsteps approached. The streetlight at the entrance stretched the person’s shadow longer and longer until it was swallowed by the darkness of the alley. My hand began to tremble uncontrollably. My heart hammered against my ribs. The moment the shadow was completely consumed, I swung the bat. “Ah! Who the hell hit me?!” “Agh, stop… stop hitting me…” “Damn it! If you want money, just take it! I’ll give you money…” Neil fell to the concrete ground with a scream. I gave him no chance to fight back. The bat rained down on the high and mighty student council president. He went from cursing, to negotiating, to finally just whimpering and begging for mercy. At last, I stopped. I stood over him, looking down at his pathetic, sobbing form with disgust. If this were Kian, he wouldn’t have made a sound, even with every rib broken. It would be nice if a video of Neil like this was posted online. Let him know what it feels like to be unable to hold your head up in public. I took a deep breath and quickly left the alley. I took a long, roundabout route, ditching the bat in a park trash can. I crossed two more streets, found another place to change back into my original clothes, and stuffed the hoodie, sweatpants, gloves, and hat into my backpack. I’d done this kind of thing long ago. It was all calm, practiced, routine. I had even tried to teach those two animals who gave birth to me a lesson like this. Though I’d only been beaten more severely for it afterward. Once everything was taken care of, I took a deep breath and forced a smile onto my face. Then I headed back to Kian’s apartment. 7 When I walked in, Kian was sitting at the dining table, scrolling through his phone. He looked up at the sound of the door. “Your shift ends at nine. What took you so long tonight?” I gave him a sweet smile. “We got a huge group order right at closing time. Probably some boss treating his overworked employees.” “Is that so?” He stared at me for a long moment, then shifted slightly, revealing a small cake on the table. “Bought this after the game. It’s from that place you like, right?” My eyes lit up. I kicked off my shoes and immediately launched myself at him, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Kian, you’re not just the most handsome boyfriend in the world, you’re the best!” “Don’t touch me until you’ve showered,” he said, pushing my face away with a look of disdain. I didn’t mind his attitude at all. I happily put down my backpack and started on the cake. It wasn’t expensive, just a simple cream square. When I was a kid, I’d always see other children eating them and wonder what they tasted like. After I got my college entrance exam scores, the first thing I bought with the small scholarship money was a cream square. I’ve loved the cloyingly sweet taste ever since. Kian watched me eat for a bit. “Is it really that good?” I nodded earnestly. “It’s good on its own, but because you bought it, it’s double good!” He snorted. “So easily pleased.” With that, he picked up his pack of cigarettes from the table and went out to the balcony. He hadn’t been a smoker before. He’d probably started in the last two months, around the same time Sienna had pulled strings to transfer from another top university. I heard she had always kept Kian on a string, and it was only my appearance as his “girlfriend” that had finally made her panic. But now that she had delivered herself to him, Kian was bound by his promise to me and couldn’t do anything with his first love. He was probably frustrated. I watched the hazy white smoke rings dissipate on the balcony and licked the cream from the corner of my mouth. Kian really was a decent guy. Once he agreed to something, he saw it through, no matter how much he disliked it. For the past five months, he had fulfilled every superficial aspect of a relationship that I had wanted to experience. So. I was willing to give him a little something in return. After my birthday next week, I would set him free ahead of schedule. After all, with Neil as a little appetizer, I was getting impatient to prepare the main course. 8 I had told Kian about my birthday weeks in advance. When the day came, I went back to the apartment after class. I showered and changed into the silk slip dress I had bought just for the occasion. I’d never dared to wear something like this in front of him before because of my scars. But this was our last time together, and my first real birthday. I wanted to experience the “romance” and “sweetness” I had always craved, in its entirety. I even put on some light makeup and a touch of perfume. Then I sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling through videos of lively birthday celebrations online, and waited for him to come home. By nine o’clock, he still wasn’t back. He had told me his department head had suddenly arranged a dinner for the top students. He couldn’t refuse, but he promised he’d find an excuse to leave by eight-thirty. Maybe the department head was hard to fool, I thought, shifting my weight. The silk would wrinkle if I leaned back, and my back was already aching. At ten, I messaged him. No reply. At eleven, I called him. No answer. At eleven-forty, he finally texted back. Sienna collapsed at dinner. I’m taking her to AU General. I’ll be back as soon as her parents get here. It would take at least twenty minutes to get back from the hospital. I stared at the message, my body stiff. I looked at the time. Then, barefoot, I walked step by step to the bathroom mirror. The reflection showed a girl with pale shoulders, arms, and chest covered in a grotesque web of old scars. Her face was darker and more lifeless than ever before. Why? Why couldn’t you just give me a perfect ending for our last night? Why, when you people already have so much happiness, can’t you stand to see me have just a little taste of it? CRASH! I grabbed the perfume bottle and hurled it at the mirror, shattering the reflection of that crazed face. Then I ripped off the silk dress, stormed to the storage room, and pulled out my suitcase. I punched in the code, changed into my black hoodie and sweatpants, and pulled on my hat and gloves. Finally, from an inner pocket of the suitcase, I took out a foldable military knife. After a final check, I glanced at the time again: 11:55 PM I gripped the knife in my left hand and pulled up my mask. My right hand reached for the doorknob. Click. The door was pulled open from the outside. 9 “…Dressed like that, where are you going?” Kian stood in the doorway, a bouquet of flowers in his hands, his eyes locked on me. His chest was heaving. He took a heavy step toward me, his gaze shifting to my hand. “What are you holding?” I was frozen solid, a statue. I stared back at him for a long time before my dry, tight voice returned. “Weren’t you waiting for Sienna’s parents? Why are you back?” “It wouldn’t be your birthday after midnight. So I floored it.” “Oh. I thought I was going to be spending my birthday alone again, so I was just going for a walk.” I forced a smile and opened my palm to show him the knife. “It’s not safe for a girl to be out alone, so I brought this for protection.” Kian stared at the knife for a long moment before finally closing his sharp, dark eyes. He held out the roses. “I messed up tonight. I’m sorry I’m late. Happy birthday, Maya.” I looked down at the bouquet and the small, elegant box nestled within it. “Thank you.” Inside, I put the flowers in a vase and opened the box. It was a beautiful, understated necklace. “Do you like it?” I nodded. Kian took it out and fastened it around my neck, then pulled me into a hug. Maybe it was my imagination, but the hug seemed to carry a hint of profound, relieved gratitude. He let me go and turned toward the bathroom. “I’m covered in sweat. I’m going to take a quick shower.” By now, the adrenaline had faded, and I remembered the state of the bathroom. I grabbed a broom, forcing another one of my placating smiles. “It was my first time using that perfume. My hand slipped and I broke the mirror. I’ll just sweep it up.” Kian paused at the doorway but said nothing. Later, when we were lying in bed, his body, still damp from the shower, pressed against me in the darkness. It was a rare occurrence. This was the first time he had ever initiated.

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A month ago, I was cursed with the Truth System. Now, any lie spoken in my presence comes true in the worst possible way. Right now, my boyfriend, Ryan, is standing before me, his face a mask of panic. He claims he’s desperately ill and needs me to donate one of my kidneys to save his life. [LIE DETECTED. ILLNESS IS A FABRICATION. COMMENCING REALITY-ALTERATION.] The cold, mechanical voice echoed in my head. I stared in shock at the man I’d loved for three years. I couldn’t believe he would lie to me about something like this. Seeing me frozen and unresponsive, Ryan must have thought I doubted him. He grabbed my arm and started dragging me toward the hospital, insisting he would show me the “test results.” As I watched his determined act, a chilling coldness spread through my heart. Oh, I believed him. After all, his lie was already coming true. … At the hospital, Ryan sat across from me, his face unnaturally pale. He was flanked by his so-called best friend, Colby, and a pack of his loyal buddies. “Ruby, I’m out of options,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. “I’m really sick. You’re the only one who can save me.” Colby chimed in, her expression a perfect portrait of concern. “He’s right, Ruby. Ryan’s been feeling awful for days. If I hadn’t dragged him to the hospital, we never would have known about his kidneys. The doctor said he needs a transplant as soon as possible, or it’s going to be dangerous!” [LIE DETECTED FROM BOTH PARTIES. COMMENCING REALITY-ALTERATION.] I glanced between them. Just as the system’s voice faded, the color drained even further from Ryan’s face. I didn’t call them out. Instead, I played along. “Ryan, don’t worry,” I said, faking a worried frown. “Maybe there was a mistake with the last test. Let’s just wait for the new results.” Colby immediately shot me down. “This is the best hospital in the state! Every day you delay is another day Ryan is in danger! If something happens to him, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.” Her words were so absurd I almost laughed. The only thing I’d regret for the rest of my life was actually giving them my kidney. I fixed my gaze on her. “I’m just trying to be careful, for Ryan’s sake. This is his life we’re talking about,” I said, my voice hardening. “Besides, you’re always saying you’re his best friend, practically a sister. You’re so close… why don’t you give him a kidney? Your blood types might even be a match.” A flicker of panic crossed Colby’s eyes before she quickly clutched her chest and started coughing dramatically. “I would, but… I have a heart condition, you see… cough, cough…” [LIE DETECTED. HEART CONDITION IS A FABRICATION. COMMENCING REALITY-ALTERATION.] This time, I couldn’t hold back a small, bitter laugh. “You know what they say. If you cry wolf enough times…” Colby opened her mouth to retort, but a sudden, sharp pain lanced through her chest. She gasped and doubled over. Ryan instantly rushed to her side, handing her his glass of water, his face etched with worry. When his eyes met mine, however, they were blazing with fury. “Why do you always have to make everything a competition? Even this? Colby’s health is fragile, and you’re deliberately trying to upset her. Apologize. Now.” I was speechless with rage. In the three years we’d been together, he had defended her countless times. Colby, the “best friend,” had inserted herself into every corner of our lives, even crashing our first-anniversary dinner “just as a friend.” Every time I complained, Ryan would shut me down with, “Can’t you just stop being so petty?” Now I saw it all clearly. Their relationship had been a lie for a long time. I refused to apologize. He was about to argue further when a doctor emerged with a file. He walked directly to Ryan and handed him the report. “The results are the same as two days ago,” the doctor said gravely. “It’s renal failure. You need a transplant, and you need it soon.” Ryan’s aggressive posture melted away. He turned to me, his expression softening into one of pathetic vulnerability. “You heard the doctor, Ruby. Now do you believe me?” The doctor stepped forward, his tone serious. “Ma’am, you’re Mr. Hayes’s girlfriend, correct? His condition is extremely critical. We’ve checked the donor database, and your blood type is a near-perfect match. You’re our best hope. Please, consider saving your boyfriend’s life.” The system was silent. Not because the doctor wasn’t speaking, but because Ryan’s lie was now the absolute truth. His condition was critical. Every eye in the hallway swiveled to me. Colby, still clutching her chest, pointed a trembling finger at me. “See? Now do you believe it? If you don’t donate and something happens to Ryan, you’ll never have a moment’s peace for the rest of your life!” Her face was pale, but her voice was sharp with accusation. “Ruby, don’t be so selfish! This is the man you’re supposed to spend your life with. It’s just one kidney! You can live perfectly fine without it. How can you be so heartless?” Ryan’s friends swarmed in, their voices a tidal wave of condemnation. “Ruby, that’s low. Ryan’s always so good to you, and now that he needs you, you’re making excuses.” “Yeah, it’s just one kidney! What’s there to even think about?” “If my girlfriend acted like this, I’d have dumped her ages ago. Ryan must have been blind.” The sheer hypocrisy was suffocating. “It’s not that I won’t help,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “But donating a kidney isn’t like getting a papercut. I had a check-up last week, and my doctor said my own kidney function was a little unstable. If I go through with this, we could both end up in trouble.” “You’re lying!” Colby shrieked. “You’re just making up excuses because you don’t want to do it!” Ryan frowned, his voice laced with disappointment. “Ruby, you’re lying to me? At a time like this? If you don’t want to save me, just say so. You don’t have to make things up.” I looked at him and suddenly smiled. “I’m not lying. But fine. You want my kidney? Say it. Say it loud and clear, right here, in front of everyone. Say, ‘I, Ryan Hayes, am in renal failure and I need Ruby Stone to donate her kidney to save my life.’ Say that, and I’ll go through with the tests.” Ryan froze. Colby tugged at his sleeve. “Ryan, just say it! It’s just one sentence!” My smile widened. “Ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy?” I asked, my words aimed at the air. “Sometimes, if you repeat a lie enough, it has a way of becoming true.” No one paid attention to my warning. All eyes were on Ryan. He clenched his jaw, his gaze darting from the expectant faces around him to Colby’s pale, pained expression. Finally, he took a deep breath. “I, Ryan Hayes, am in renal failure, and I need Ruby Stone to donate her kidney to save my life.” The second the words left his mouth, his face went another shade whiter. No one else noticed. But I did. Looking at his ashen face, I finally agreed to cooperate. Just then, my mother pushed through the crowd. She spotted me and pointed a finger right at my face. “Ruby, have you lost your mind? Ryan is in this state, and you’re still refusing to help? How can you be so cold and selfish!” “Mom, I—” “Don’t you ‘Mom’ me!” she cut me off. “Ryan is such a wonderful boy! He’s so good to you! And now that he needs you, you’re dragging your feet. If you don’t agree to donate that kidney today, then you’re no daughter of mine. We’re done, you and I, as of right now.” I stared at her, utterly stunned. I had expected her to be upset, but I never imagined she would so casually demand I sacrifice a part of my body. Ever since I started dating Ryan, her loyalty had shifted completely. His family had money, and because of that, she treated him like he was her own son, always urging me to put him first. I decided then and there to ignore her. The air turned to ice. Ryan, ever the performer, rushed to my mother’s side and gently took her arm. “Auntie, please don’t be angry. Ruby is probably just overwhelmed. Don’t pressure her.” His words were meant to sound supportive, but they were gasoline on a fire. My mother’s rage intensified. “How did I raise such a heartless monster? You are donating that kidney today. I don’t care if you want to or not. You’re doing it.” The relatives chimed in, and someone even pulled out their phone, announcing they had already scheduled the surgery at the city’s main hospital for next Wednesday. I looked at the scene before me, a perfect tableau of betrayal, and felt a bitter laugh rise in my throat. I took a deep breath. “Fine,” I said slowly. “I’ll cooperate with the pre-op preparations. But I want a full health screening first. For everyone’s safety.” Ryan and Colby exchanged a triumphant look. “Of course,” Ryan nodded. “Whatever you say.” “That’s a good idea,” Colby added quickly. “For Ryan’s safety, we should definitely be thorough.” I heard the unspoken meaning in her words and could only find it laughable. A short while later, I was back at the hospital with Ryan for the pre-op screening. When it was over, he said he needed to use the restroom. I followed him discreetly. Sure enough, Colby was waiting for him. I hid around the corner and watched as she draped herself over his arm. “Oh, Ryan, you’ve been working so hard,” she cooed. “If my own kidney problems hadn’t flared up, we wouldn’t have had to go through all this trouble of you pretending to be sick just to trick her.” Ryan’s voice was full of adoration. “Anything for you is worth it, Colby. As soon as the surgery is over, I’m breaking up with her. God, faking being sick is exhausting. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have wasted another second on her.” I stood frozen in the hallway, ice coursing through my veins. So that was it. He was never sick. It was all for Colby. Her kidneys were failing, so they conspired to steal one of mine, using our three years together as a cover and emotional blackmail as their weapon. I was just their personal organ bank. As rage burned through me, the system’s voice returned. [LIE DETECTED. KIDNEY PROBLEM IS A FABRICATION. COMMENCING REALITY-ALTERATION.] My eyes snapped to Colby. Just as the system predicted, the color drained from her face, leaving her looking ghostly and frail. Ryan, oblivious, simply thought she was having a bad spell and pulled her into a protective hug. I watched them for a moment longer, then slipped away, my face a mask of calm. They had no idea what they had just done. The next day, during the health check, I insisted on a more detailed renal function test. Ryan’s expression flickered, and he was about to refuse, but Colby jumped in first. “Of course, of course! A comprehensive check is always better.” She gave Ryan a subtle nudge and a meaningful look. He caught on. “Right. Whatever you want, Ruby. A full workup it is.” During the examination, I could tell the doctor was acting strangely, especially when he was checking Ryan’s kidney function. His eyes kept darting away. If he had done his job properly right then, he might have actually saved Ryan. But he was following Ryan’s orders, and in doing so, Ryan had personally severed his own lifeline. Kidney failure and heart disease weren’t instant. They were slow, agonizing descents into death. I was more than happy to watch the show. When the reports came back, they were exactly what I expected. Ryan’s showed severe renal failure. Mine declared me to be in perfect health, an ideal donor. I held my report and let out a cold laugh. Just two weeks ago, a different doctor had diagnosed me with hydronephrosis and warned me to seek treatment immediately. And now, suddenly, I was the picture of health? The goal was obvious. They had faked my report to ensure the transplant went ahead. This entire thing, from start to finish, was a trap. This time, I didn’t hold back. I stormed into the doctor’s office and slapped the report down on his desk. “What kind of doctor are you?” I demanded. “I was diagnosed with a serious kidney condition two weeks ago, and you’re telling me I’m perfectly healthy? Are you trying to kill me, or are you trying to kill my boyfriend?” The doctor’s face paled, but he held his ground. “What are you talking about? I’m a physician. I would never falsify a report! The data is accurate. You must be misremembering. Now, please, stop causing a scene and disrupting the hospital!” His eyes shifted nervously, but his voice was firm. “I swear on my professional oath, this report is one hundred percent accurate. If I faked it, may I drop dead on the spot!” [LIE DETECTED. DEATH ON THE SPOT WILL BE MADE TRUE.] The system’s voice had barely faded when a commotion erupted at the end of the hall.

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In the earthquake, both my brother and my childhood fiancé abandoned me, choosing to save the real heiress first. My right leg was crushed and fractured as a result. After I was pulled from the rubble, I heard my fiancé, Brook, give my brother a quiet order. “I’m planning to break off our engagement, so I need to keep my distance. She’s your sister. You take care of her.” “Like hell she is!” Leo shot back, his voice dripping with resentment. “My real sister is back. What’s an outsider like her still doing hanging around our house?” They both happened to glance back then. Our eyes met, and an unspeakable awkwardness hung in the air. 1 The rescue worker carrying my stretcher froze, his gaze dropping to me. “Didn’t you say they were your family?” he asked, confused. “Why’d he call you an outsider? Who am I supposed to leave you with?” The moment he spoke, the two boys who had been pushing responsibility onto each other fell silent. They turned in unison, their eyes locking with mine again, a flicker of unease in their expressions. They clearly hadn’t expected me to be right behind them, to hear every word. I tried to speak, but the pain overwhelmed me, and the world went black. 2 I woke to the sound of hushed voices outside my hospital room. “That poor girl. Her leg is completely fractured, and not a single person has come to look after her since she was admitted.” “Well, it’s her own fault, isn’t it? I heard she was the one switched at birth. Now that the real daughter is back, she should have the decency to leave. No wonder they don’t want her around.” “I suppose you’re right…” I stared blankly at the thick plaster cast on my right leg. The sharp agony had dulled to a throb. When I was trapped under the debris, hearing Leo’s voice had felt like salvation. “What are you waiting for? Of course you save my sister first!” he had yelled. “She’s claustrophobic! If anything happens to her because you dragged your feet, I’ll kill you!” The one with claustrophobia was Missy, the real daughter. The rescuer’s tone turned grave. “Then the family needs to be prepared. The girl on the other side… there’s a high probability her leg will be crushed by the collapsing wall.” Leo hesitated. His voice dropped to a near whisper. “I… I understand…” Then, a little louder, defensively, “What was I supposed to do? I could only save one of them.” Threads of light pierced through the cracks in the rubble, faintly illuminating my leg, pinned between slabs of concrete. In that moment, when the pain was so intense it stole my voice, my resentment for Leo peaked. But now, lying here, I couldn’t summon any of that emotion. I could even analyze the situation with a strange detachment. Leo wasn’t wrong. Choosing his own flesh and blood… it was only logical. He was right. It was time for me to leave. There’s nothing more pathetic than someone who overstays their welcome. 3 Leo and the others came to visit while I was clumsily trying to reach the heating pad on my bedside table. My hand was icy from the IV drip. Missy led the way, practically bouncing over to my bed. “Faye! Did you really break your leg?” she asked, her eyes wide as she stared at the cast. Then she let out a breath of relieved air. “Oh, I can’t even imagine. If that were me, I’d be crying every single day. Thank goodness…” A wave of exhaustion washed over me, and I couldn’t be bothered to decipher how much of her tone was genuine sympathy and how much was thinly veiled glee. Leo stood farthest away, deliberately avoiding my gaze. He was clearly still hung up on the embarrassment of that day by the ruins. Not like Brook. His expression was as cool and distant as ever. His eyes swept over my injured leg, a flicker of a frown, barely noticeable. After a long moment, he spoke. “We’ll talk when you’ve recovered.” I froze. I remembered his words from the wreckage. I’m planning to break off our engagement. That must have been what he couldn’t bring himself to say. Missy looked back at him, her eyes shimmering. “You’re getting soft, aren’t you?” Brook’s lips thinned. “And you think I should kick her while she’s down?” Missy’s gaze fell. After a few seconds, she murmured, “That’s not what I meant. I’m a little tired, I’m going to head home. You two should stay and take care of Faye. It must be hard for her to do things on her own.” She rushed the words out and then fled the room, the sound of a choked sob echoing behind her. Leo glared at Brook like a wolf pup guarding its food. “Brook,” he growled. “You dare make my sister cry?” Brook’s focus was still on the girl who had just left. He ignored Leo’s warning, his voice low and firm as he followed her out. “You stay here and look after her.” “What?” Leo sputtered. He shot me a panicked look before scrambling after them. “Wait! I don’t know how to take care of anyone! Don’t just leave me here!” He bolted as if he were fleeing the plague. The door, left ajar, swung back and forth in the draft from the window. Just like that, I was alone again. From start to finish, no one had given me a chance to say a word. To tell them I agreed to end the engagement. Or that I didn’t need anyone to stay and take care of me. In the week I’d been in the hospital, I had already learned how to take care of myself. 4 No one else came to visit before I was discharged. My adoptive mother called once, right after I had the cast removed. She sighed, her voice gentle and persuasive. “Faye, don’t blame Leo for choosing Missy. She’s his real sister, you understand? I don’t want this to create a rift between you two.” “I don’t blame him, Mom. He didn’t do anything wrong.” “You’ve always been the understanding one,” she said, relieved. “Your father and I will pick you up when you’re discharged. We’re on a business trip right now, so we haven’t had time to visit. You need to take good care of yourself.” Just then, I heard Leo’s impatient voice in the background. “Mom! Who are you talking to? Hurry up! Let’s get a family picture before… you know who… gets back.” The silence on the line was deafening, filled only with a faint electronic hum. I kept my voice even. “I will, Mom. I’ll take care of myself.” I heard a distinct sigh of relief from her end. “Oh, good… Well, I have to go. I have a meeting.” The call ended abruptly. The night was quiet. I put my phone away and, gripping the handrail, began another round of physical therapy. In the silent hospital corridor, it was just me, dragging my atrophied leg one small step at a time. Half an hour later, with beads of sweat on my forehead, I managed a small smile. I’d walked two feet farther than yesterday. 5 No one came to pick me up on the day of my discharge. Fortunately, I wasn’t waiting for anyone. I had just stepped through the front door, luggage in hand, when I realized I’d come back at the wrong time. The Bennetts—all four of them—and Brook were gathered around the dining table, enjoying hot pot. My arrival shattered the cheerful atmosphere. Their expressions shifted, none of them welcoming. The only sound was the gentle bubbling of the broth. My adoptive mother recovered first, forcing a smile. “Faye! You’re back! Why didn’t you tell us you were coming… You haven’t eaten, have you? Come, sit down and join us.” The spicy aroma filled the air, and my healing leg seemed to ache in phantom pain. But unlike before, I felt no surge of self-pity, no urge to lash out about how no one truly cared, how no one remembered that I needed to avoid spicy food while I was recovering. I didn’t step forward to ruin their meal. “It’s okay, Mom,” I said. “I ate before I came back. I’m just going to go upstairs and unpack.” Later that evening, in my adoptive father’s study. He tapped a rhythmic beat on the mahogany desk. “You’re leaving?” I nodded. “My flight is in a week.” I added, “Please, don’t tell Mom or the others just yet.” I’d chosen to tell him, and only him, because he was the least attached to me. He wouldn’t try to guilt me into staying with some soft-hearted appeal. As expected, he didn’t try to dissuade me. “It’s for the best,” he said. “You can see for yourself, your presence has thrown this family into disarray.” He looked at me, his gaze direct. “Once you leave, don’t contact your mother or the others again. It’s better to make a clean break.” I promised him I would never appear before them again. He studied me for a few seconds, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but said nothing more. 6 A heavy weight I hadn’t even realized I was carrying suddenly lifted. I felt impossibly light. I walked out of the villa, needing some fresh air. A familiar angry shout erupted nearby. “Brook, you asshole, you ditched me again!” Leo was yelling into his phone. “You take my sister out on a date and leave me to deal with her all by myself? What kind of friend are you?” He trailed off, muttering, “God, I can’t believe it… why did she have to come back? Doesn’t she get how awkward she makes it for everyone…” Leo ended the call with a frustrated jab at the screen. He turned and his eyes met mine. His furious expression morphed into something complicated and unreadable. As we stood there in a tense silence, a car sped down the street. Leo was standing right on the curb, lost in thought. Years of habit took over. I lunged forward and yanked him back onto the sidewalk. The car honked twice and shot past. I let out a breath, feeling no desire to speak to him. I released his arm and started to walk away. Leo stood frozen for a second before jogging to catch up. “Hey, Faye… thanks.” I gave a curt nod, not slowing down. He stammered for a moment, then suddenly grabbed my hand, his voice a torrent of frustrated confession. “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have said all that stuff about wanting you to leave. You know me, I’ve always had a big mouth. I didn’t really mean it…” I turned my head and looked at the boy whose face still held a trace of childishness. “I know.” “So… can we be okay again?” he asked, his awkwardness betrayed by the red tips of his ears. I tried to pull my wrist free. I didn’t answer his question. Instead, I said, “Can you let go of me, please? Holding my hand like this… it feels strange.” Leo’s hand dropped as if he’d been burned. His stunned expression was laced with a flicker of hurt. He had held my hand like this our entire lives. I didn’t know when it had started to feel so wrong. 7 Just as I was about to leave, a convertible Aston Martin pulled up beside us. Missy was in the passenger seat, her eyes darting between Leo and me. She addressed Leo, her voice syrupy sweet. “Leo, aren’t you a little old to be so clingy? Hop in. This is the last time, I promise. Next time, we’re really not bringing you.” Leo didn’t move. He frowned. “Missy, you should probably wipe your mouth.” His comment made me look closer. There was a smudge of lipstick blurring the edge of her lips. A matching smear was visible on the corner of Brook’s mouth. Missy’s ears turned pink. She grabbed the rearview mirror, dabbing at her lipstick as she complained, “I told you not to kiss so hard. This is so embarrassing.” I looked at Brook and our eyes met for a brief, charged moment. He quickly looked away. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. “You getting in or not?” he asked Leo. This time, Leo didn’t rise to the bait and start an argument. Instead, he took my hand again. “You guys go have fun,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to intrude. I’ll just walk Faye home.” Before I could react, he was leading me away. “Wait,” Missy called out. “Brook has something to say to you.” She poked Brook’s shoulder playfully, a wide smile on her face. “Faye’s out of the hospital now. You can say it.” I stood still, watching Brook, waiting for him to officially break our engagement. He looked down, his gaze fixed on nothing. After a long pause, he finally spoke. “How’s the physical therapy going?” Missy’s smile froze. I was taken aback. “It’s going well.” Brook gave a slight nod, then let out the clutch and the car pulled away. He still hadn’t said it. Inappropriately, I remembered something a nurse had told me while I was in the hospital. She’d mentioned a tall, handsome young man who had come to see me twice while I was asleep. I was only now realizing it must have been Brook. 8 Brook was dragging his feet, but my adoptive mother brought it up the very next evening at dinner. Brook, sitting next to Missy, jerked his head up at her words, clearly as surprised as I was. “Faye,” my adoptive mother began, her tone gentle but firm, “this engagement was always meant for Missy. Be a good girl and step aside. I’ll find you another suitable young man.” I placed a stalk of asparagus in my bowl. “Okay, Mom,” I replied softly. “Whatever you think is best.” My easy compliance seemed to startle everyone at the table. They hadn’t expected me to agree so readily. My mother’s expression relaxed into a smile. “You’ve become so much more sensible since you’ve been back.” I kept my head down and focused on my food, saying nothing more. I hadn’t become more sensible. I had just accepted reality. The moment I stopped seeing them as my family and started seeing them as outsiders to whom I owed a debt of gratitude for raising me, I finally understood my place. There was nothing left to resent. After dinner, I was carrying a glass of water upstairs when I passed Missy’s room. The door was ajar. She was hugging our mother, her voice a whiny murmur. “Mom, you can’t set Faye up with anyone too good, okay? She got to live my life for twenty-one years. It’s time she had a taste of hardship. She owes me that much.” My mother’s hand, which had been stroking Missy’s hair, paused. “Faye is an orphan, Missy. She was abandoned at the hospital right after she was born. It was a nurse’s mistake that got you two switched. She’s innocent in all of this…” Missy pulled away, her eyes flashing. “So I deserved to suffer for all those years? I’m not asking her to pay back the money this family spent on her. I’m not even kicking her out. I just want her to face a few setbacks, so I can feel like things are a little more balanced. Are you going to defend her even on this?” Her last words were choked with tears. She threw herself onto the bed, her sobs growing louder. Our mother rushed to comfort her. “Okay, okay, Mommy promises. What about Ricky Dawson? His father is that big real estate developer. Everyone knows Ricky is the wildest party boy in the city. I’ll introduce him to Faye, how about that? Please stop crying, my sweet girl.” I lowered my eyes and walked away. Downstairs, I set my glass on the counter. The ice had almost completely melted. I looked at my hand. It was pale and numb from the cold, a sensation I was only just now registering. 9 Brook found me as I was washing the glass. He sat silently at the bar behind me. Just as I turned to leave, he spoke, his voice low. “Don’t go on some random blind date.” His words hung in the air. “Everyone knows you’re not a Bennett anymore. Any man you meet now will just look down on you.” I kept walking. “That has nothing to do with you.” His hand shot out, grabbing my arm. He pulled me around to face him, his eyes burning into mine. “Are you angry with me for breaking the engagement? Faye, I didn’t have a choice. To protect the alliance between our families, I have to marry the real Bennett daughter.” I struggled against his grip. “And I suppose you were forced to fall for Missy, too? Stop acting so innocent.” His grip tightened, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “And whose fault is that? When Missy first came back, you were so paranoid you were barely recognizable. You were constantly accusing me of having something going on with her. If she so much as said hello to me, you’d pick a fight. Think about it, Faye. You’re the one who pushed me away.” I didn’t want to rehash the past—the time I saw Missy deliberately fall into his arms, the late-night texts they exchanged. I just focused on trying to wrench my arm free. He watched me struggle, his face a mask of indifference. “Brook! Let go of my sister!” Leo’s roar came from the top of the stairs, followed by the thunder of his footsteps. He charged down and shoved Brook away from me. “I’m warning you, stay the hell away from her. You have Missy now. Leave my other sister alone.” He positioned himself in front of me, a protective stance so familiar yet so foreign after all this time. After Brook left, the tension in Leo’s shoulders eased. He turned to me. “Faye, if he ever bothers you again, you tell me. I’ll deal with him.” “Thank you.” He chewed on his lip, then asked quietly, “Are you busy this afternoon? Do you… want to hang out? I can go with you.” It felt like the old Leo was back. Before Missy, he had always been stuck to my side like this. “No, thank you,” I said. “I have a follow-up appointment at the hospital.” “I’ll go with you,” he insisted, speaking before I could refuse. “Don’t say no again, Faye.” He stood there, a six-foot-two giant, his face a mixture of awkwardness and dejection. “Your leg… it’s my fault. The least I can do is go with you to your appointments. If you end up with any permanent damage, I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life.” He looked at me, his eyes filled with a desperate, pleading hope, as if waiting for me to give him some sign of forgiveness. But I said nothing. There was no ‘rest of your life’ to talk about. In six days, I would be gone. 10 The blind date was set for noon the next day. When my adoptive mother told me, she couldn’t meet my eyes. “Um… Faye. His name is Ricky Dawson. His family is one of the biggest new players in the city, very successful. Just go meet him, get to know each other.” Leo, sitting nearby, scowled. “Ricky Dawson? Mom, isn’t he the one who’s always in the tabloids? Drunk driving, getting into brawls… you’re setting Faye up with a guy like that?” She forced a weak smile. “Don’t listen to rumors, Leo. I’ve met the boy. He’s quite polite.” Leo started to protest again, but I cut him off. “It’s fine. It’s just lunch.” My mother shot Leo a warning look. “See? Faye doesn’t mind. Why are you making such a fuss? If you have this much energy, maybe you should spend it on your real sister. Always sticking your nose where it doesn’t…” She stopped abruptly. In my peripheral vision, I saw both she and Leo glance at me nervously. I didn’t look up from my phone, where I was checking the weather forecast for my departure day. Their reactions meant nothing to me. They didn’t know yet. I had become immune to the word ‘outsider’. 11 Leo insisted on coming with me to the lunch. “If I’m there, that scumbag won’t dare say anything disrespectful,” he declared. “And if he does, I’ll make him regret it.” I glanced at him in the driver’s seat. His profile was still boyish, the last traces of teenage awkwardness fading away. He was only nineteen, a straightforward kid with a simple philosophy: be good to those who are good to you. When Missy first arrived, she had been gentle and attentive to him. She sided with him in everything, even when he was wrong. It made my occasional lectures seem harsh and uncaring by comparison. During one argument, he had yelled at me, “Who do you think you are, Faye? You’re not my real sister! You think this is still your house? You’re just an outsider, got it?” That was the start of our cold war. During that time, he and Missy grew inseparable, and he and I grew completely distant. I think seeing me instinctively save him the other night made him remember how things used to be, and he started trying to get close again. It also magnified his guilt over choosing to save Missy during the earthquake. I thought for a moment, then tried to reason with him. “Leo, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to try and make it up to me. I don’t blame you for choosing Missy. She’s your real sister. You didn’t do anything wrong.” His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. Staring straight ahead, he said after a moment, “It’s not about making it up to you. You’re my sister, too. Shouldn’t I be good to you?” His Adam’s apple bobbed, his voice turning husky. “Can you please… just stop pushing me away?” How could I explain it? I wasn’t pushing him away. I just wasn’t waiting for him anymore. So when he turned around to find me, all he could see was the growing distance between us. 12 Ricky Dawson showed up radiating pure scumbag energy, a fresh hickey blooming on his neck. His cocky smirk vanished the second he saw Leo. Leo picked up a butter knife, tapping it against the side of his plate. “Ricky,” he said, his voice deceptively calm. “What’s that on your neck? You knew you were meeting my sister today, right?” Ricky nervously covered his neck with his hand. “It’s just a mosquito bite, Leo, seriously! Don’t get the wrong idea…” The rest of the lunch went by relatively smoothly. He was polite, if a little stiff, and didn’t say anything out of line. On the way home, Leo was humming. “See? You need your little brother to protect you. You didn’t want me to come, but if I hadn’t, you would’ve been bullied.” I didn’t know what to say, so I just thanked him again. He pulled up to the house as usual. As we got out of the car, we came face to face with Brook. He looked like he’d been waiting for a while, his eyes dark and stormy. “You went on the date?” he demanded. Leo stepped in front of me. “What’s it to you? Move.” Brook’s gaze shifted slowly to Leo’s face. Then, without warning, he threw a punch. Caught off guard, Leo stumbled back, hitting the wall. “Brook, what the hell is wrong with you?” I cried, rushing toward Leo, but Brook grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back. He seemed to be fighting to control a raging fire within him, his face eerily calm. “You knew what kind of person he was, and you still went?” he hissed. “Faye, have you really stooped this low? You’re that desperate?” He sneered. “He’s nothing. If you’re trying to marry into his family for a connection, you’d be better off waiting until Missy and I are married and being my mistress. I can give you far more than he ever could.” I stared at him in disbelief. I never thought I would hear such vile words from the lips of the self-controlled, proper Brook I knew. His grip was so tight I couldn’t even raise a hand to slap him. Leo staggered to his feet. “Brook, I dare you to say that again!” He grabbed a decorative garden stake from a nearby planter and raised it high. But before he could bring it down, our mother’s sharp voice cut through the air. Brook, jolted back to his senses, let go of me. My mother stalked toward me, her eyes locked on my face. I swallowed hard. “Mom…” A sudden, sharp slap cut off my words, my head snapping to the side. Brook flinched. Leo yelled, “Mom! What are you doing? This asshole was harassing Faye!” “You, be quiet!” she snapped at him, then turned her fury back on me. “Faye, answer me. Did you or did you not promise me you would let Brook go for Missy’s sake?” Even the slightest movement of my jaw sent a sharp, stinging pain through my cheek. “Mom, I didn’t…” “Did you or did you not?” she shrieked. After a few seconds of silence, I nodded. “I did.” “Then what are you doing still getting tangled up with him? Are you doing this just to spite your sister?” Her shoulders trembled with rage. “You even provoked Leo into fighting for you.” I stood frozen, able to feel her hatred in every word without even looking at her. “If you had died in the hospital all those years ago,” she said, her voice venomous, “my daughter might never have been switched, and our family wouldn’t be in this goddamn mess.”

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It was only after I’d successfully won him over that I realized I had the wrong guy. I’d managed to charm the story’s secret villain, the one who hid his darkness behind a sweet smile. Now I had to figure out how to break up with him. I tried to test the waters. “What if someone… betrayed you?” He answered without a second thought. “I’d dump them in the middle of the ocean.” Terrified, I decided my only option was to become the world’s most clingy, annoying girlfriend, hoping he’d get sick of me and dump me first. Every day, it was a constant barrage: “Do you love me? Why didn’t you text me back instantly? Are you cheating on me? Hand over your phone, I’m checking it.” I worked tirelessly to be the absolute worst, just waiting for the day he’d finally break. Instead, I overheard him complaining to a friend. “My girlfriend is so clingy because I haven’t given her enough security,” he lamented. “I’ve decided I’m going to propose to her tomorrow.” I was completely dumbfounded. 1 It had been six months since I’d been transported into this book, and I had finally captured the male lead’s heart. The private room was dimly lit. Julian Croft held a birthday cake, the candles flickering in front of me. Cheers and whispers filled the air around us. “This girl, Amelia, is so lucky. Julian gets hurt, she happens to find him, and suddenly she’s gone from a nobody to a billionaire’s girlfriend.” “Please. He’s just tired of fancy cuisine and wants to try some plain porridge for a change. I give it a month, tops.” “But he brought her into his circle. He’s made it official.” At that moment, Julian was looking down at me. As the novel’s hero, he was breathtakingly handsome, his long lashes casting soft shadows on his cheeks. He looked so sweet, so innocent. Forgetting to even make a wish, I leaned in and kissed him. Six months ago, I’d been dropped into this cliché, over-the-top CEO romance novel. Following the System’s instructions, I found the injured male lead in an alley near my house. Under my care, he recovered quickly, and we fell in love. And now, at this pivotal moment, the System, which had been offline for ages, finally came back. [Host! I’m finally back online!] [Wow, have you completed the mission already? Calculating your points now.] [Beep—Beep-beep—#￥%&*] After a burst of static, the System’s electronic voice was filled with panic. [CRITICAL ERROR DETECTED! HOST, YOU’VE BEEN DATING THE WRONG PERSON!!!] The smile froze on my face. 2 The System frantically explained the situation. When I first arrived, the System had only told me to go to the alley and find someone before it promptly crashed. I’d stumbled around in the dark all night before I finally found Julian, unconscious. He was handsome, had abs, and impossibly long legs. He had to be the male lead. After all that effort I’d put into nursing him back to health… I’d picked the wrong guy? I was devastated. [So what now?] [I’m so sorry, Host. You still have to win over the actual male lead to complete the mission. You’ll have to find a way to break up with the villain.] In this tropey novel, the villain, Julian Croft, was described as cunning, manipulative, and ruthless. To put it simply, crossing him was a fate worse than death. And I… I had to break up with him? I looked up and met Julian’s gaze. His voice was like velvet as he said, “Make a wish. Whatever you want, I’ll do everything in my power to make it come true.” A chorus of “awws” erupted around us. No one doubted the weight of a promise from the heir to the Croft fortune. With everyone’s envious eyes on me, I forced a smile. Oh, dear God, I prayed silently, I messed up. Please, just let me break up with Julian Croft! I watched with bated breath as the candles flickered and died. A second later— They all relit themselves. I… 3 After the party, Julian and I went home. He was particularly passionate tonight. We were still in the elevator when his fiery kisses started raining down on me. His lips were cool and soft, and as they moved against mine, he kissed me until I was breathless. The System was screaming in my ear. [Host! Stop enjoying it! You’re supposed to be breaking up with him!] Right, right. I clung to the last shred of my sanity. “Julian, I need to talk to you.” “Mm, go ahead.” Could you maybe stop what you’re doing while I’m trying to talk?! My brain short-circuited, and the truth slipped out. “Let’s break up.” The atmosphere instantly froze. Julian’s movements stopped, and he straightened up. He looked down at me, his dark eyes like pools of ink. For the first time, I realized just how tall he was. His shadow completely enveloped me, making me feel like trapped prey. “What did you say?” His voice was soft, his tone deceptively calm, but it sent my heart into a frantic rhythm. Was this the villain’s true power? System, I’m scared! I immediately tried to walk back my breakup declaration. “I—I just don’t think you really like me. So, I’m not going to like you anymore either.” The coldness in Julian’s expression softened. He leaned in and started kissing me again, his lips trailing gently across my eyelids. “Why would you think that?” “Our backgrounds are worlds apart,” I said, trying to steer the conversation. “What you feel for me is probably just gratitude. You were hurt, alone, and you mistook gratitude for love.” So just snap out of it! Julian let out a soft chuckle. “That’s not what you used to say.” “You said a drop of kindness should be repaid with a fountain, and that saving a life should be repaid by dedicating your own.” I… Yes, I did say that crap. “Because I’ve thought it through. True love is about letting go. I can’t force you.” Julian didn’t answer. He simply scooped me up into his arms with effortless strength and carried me into the master bedroom, dropping me onto the soft mattress. His chest pressed against mine, his fingers toying with my earlobe. “Amelia, love is about possession, destruction, and stopping at nothing. So please, keep forcing me.” Heat spread from my earlobe through my entire body. My oxygen was plundered, and I nearly passed out. Only one thought remained in my mind. Who was forcing whom, exactly? Afterward, I was so exhausted I couldn’t even lift a finger. Julian had to carry me to the bathtub to wash up. He kissed my sweaty forehead. “Don’t ever talk about breaking up again.” My throat was so raw I couldn’t even speak. I could only nod miserably. I remembered when I first met him, a stolen kiss would make him blush. Now… It was all my fault for not being able to control myself and luring him into my bed. The only thing to do now was run. 4 In the middle of the night, Julian got up to take a call. I tiptoed out of the room. I could hear voices from the stairwell. “Mr. Croft, we’ve caught the traitor. What are your orders?” It was one of Julian’s loyal underlings. Julian was leaning against the railing, the red glow of his cigarette flaring in the dark. “Dump him in the ocean,” he said casually. “When you betray me, there’s nowhere to run.” I was in a cliché romance novel. The villain’s influence was global. He was untouchable, unstoppable. I… Was he talking about me? If I dumped him now, what would happen to me? I scrambled back into bed. No, no, I have to find a way to break up with him peacefully! Preferably, in a way that made him dump me. I called out to the System: [What do women do that men hate the most?] [Men hate gold diggers.] I nodded, then shook my head. [No, only poor men hate gold diggers. Julian has too much money. That won’t work on him.] But, I decided to give it a try anyway. After all, I’d read countless online forums where men said, “I’m willing to give, but she can’t just ask for it.” So, maybe Julian hated being asked, too? My thoughts were a jumbled mess when he came back into the room. He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulled me against him, and tilted my chin up for a kiss. “Still awake? What are you thinking about?” My gaze was full of despair. “I was just thinking about how I can’t swim, and how much I hate the ocean.” 5 Operation Gold Digger commenced. “I want to buy a bag.” “Okay,” Julian agreed. But he didn’t give me any money, nor did he offer to go with me. Heh, the internet was right! I was about to use this as an excuse to launch into a tirade about how he didn’t love me and wouldn’t spend money on me. But the next second, the butler led the manager of a luxury brand into the living room. Behind her were more than a dozen sales associates in sharp suits, each carrying a different handbag. The manager smiled sweetly. “Miss Miller, which ones have caught your eye?” I… “I don’t like this brand,” I said stubbornly. The manager bowed and left with a smile. Immediately, another manager walked in. “Don’t worry, Miss Miller,” the butler explained. “They are all lined up outside. Whatever you wish to see is available.” I… Was luxury fashion just too cheap for him? Was that why he didn’t care? I had to up the ante. I needed diamonds! I needed real estate! After I’d nervously spent over a hundred million dollars and Julian’s expression still hadn’t changed, Operation Gold Digger was officially a failure. I asked him, my last hope dwindling, “I spent so much money. Don’t you care? Don’t you think I only like you for your money?” “I’m usually too busy with work to spend money,” he said lightly. “It’s a good thing I have you.” I… I was panicking. [What do I do? What else can I do?] The System popped up. [Host, I’ve found it! A safe and painless breakup method.] [It’s called ‘love bombing,’ but in reverse. You smother the other person with constant attention until they can’t take it anymore and break up with you. This way, they’ll just think your love is suffocating. They won’t feel betrayed; they’ll just want to get as far away from you as possible.] My eyes lit up. 6 For the next few days, I devoured every online tutorial on how to use this reverse love bombing technique. Then, full of confidence, I began step one. Sabotage the CEO’s work. I insisted on going to the office with Julian. “I’m so bored at home all day. I miss you so much I can’t eat. I’m getting so thin.” I put on my best baby voice and practically contorted myself into a puddle of neediness. Ugh, I’m so annoying! Julian, however, was not disgusted. He just pinched my increasingly chubby chin. “Bored? You come home later than I do every day.” It was true. I had been treating my shopping sprees like a full-time job, and every night, it was Julian who would pick me up after he was done with work. Reverse Love Bombing Tactic #2: Be completely unreasonable and throw tantrums at any time, for any reason. “It’s because you never spend time with me! I have to shop to console myself,” I declared. “I don’t want your stupid money! I want your time! Your attention! Your love! If you don’t spend time with me, I’ll never spend another dime of your money for the rest of my life!” Julian just stared at me. Since my tantrum was completely baseless, his silence made my heart pound with fear. I immediately started second-guessing myself. Was that too much? What if he skips the breakup and sends me straight to the ocean? My bravado instantly deflated. “I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry.” We both spoke at the same time. “I’ve been too busy,” Julian said. “I should be spending more time with you.” I froze. When I finally spoke, I was stuttering from guilt. “I was so mean just now, so inconsiderate. Don’t you want to break up with me and find a more obedient girlfriend?” Julian frowned, his expression turning cold and heavy. “Why are you talking about breaking up again?” The word “breakup” was his trigger. The second I said it, his face fell, and I was instantly reminded of his true identity as the story’s ultimate villain. “Hmph, I was testing you! Can’t you tell?” I bluffed. “If you dare to break up with me, I’ll go to your company with a giant banner, write a tell-all post online, and curse you, you scumbag!” See? This is my twisted, obsessive love! Aren’t you terrified? But instead— Julian let out a short, pleased laugh. His features relaxed, and he looked both happy and satisfied. “Good. I’ll be waiting.” What??? Maybe he didn’t realize how serious I was. I decided to escalate the threats. “In that case, let me make things clear. I hate men who aren’t completely devoted. If you dare to cheat, I’ll break up with you! When I text you, you have to reply within two minutes. When I call, you have to answer within three rings. You have to report your whereabouts to me every hour, and I can check your phone at any time. You have to tell me about every woman you know. Can you do that?” Ha! Scared now, aren’t you? Anyone hearing those demands would run for the hills. But Julian didn’t hesitate for a second. “Done.”

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In the second year of my arranged marriage to Andrew Osment, my first love suddenly returned to the country. One evening, my husband, who had always been a man of cool composure and quiet pride, handed me a document. A divorce agreement. I stared at it for a few seconds, completely floored. “What is this?” His voice trembled. “Your old flame is back. I’ll step aside.” I could only manage a single, bewildered sound. “—Huh??” 1 The work dinner ended late, and it was nearly eleven when I got home. I kicked off my heels, rubbing the ache in my neck as I walked inside, only to find my path blocked by my husband. Andrew Osment was staring at me, his expression a mask of cold fury. “You’ve been drinking?” “A little,” I admitted. He let out a short, sharp scoff. “You never drink. What, are you that happy to see an old lover?” My mind was sluggish from the alcohol, and it took me a moment to register the sarcasm dripping from his words. I looked up, meeting his gaze directly. “If you have something to say, Andrew, just say it. I’m exhausted.” His eyes roamed my face, then suddenly locked onto a single spot, his gaze turning glacial. “Why is your neck red?” I instinctively reached up and scratched it. “A bug bite, maybe?” “Was that bug’s name Evan Cole?” he sneered. Evan Cole. My ex-boyfriend. Suddenly, Andrew’s strange behavior tonight made perfect sense. Before I could say a word, he thrust the document he’d been clenching in his hand toward me. “Sign it.” My eyes fell to the bold letters at the top of the page: DIVORCE AGREEMENT. It’s no exaggeration to say that I sobered up instantly. “Why the sudden divorce?” I asked, my voice laced with disbelief. “Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?” he shot back. “Evan Cole just gets back in the country, and you immediately run off to have drinks with him, coming home smelling of…” His gaze dropped to my neck again, and he fell silent. “It wasn’t a social thing with Evan,” I argued. “I was meeting with the CEO of OmniCorp to discuss a partnership. I told you about this project.” “You were drinking with Evan Cole,” he repeated, fixated on that one point. “Yes, Evan was there, but I didn’t know he would be,” I tried to explain. “He’s good friends with Mr. Harrison. They were drinking together. I could hardly ask him to leave, could I?” The more ridiculous truth, I kept to myself. What right did I have to ask Evan to leave? We were nothing to each other anymore… Andrew was silent for a moment. “Forget the OmniCorp deal. The profit margin is low anyway. I’ll give you other projects.” An unexpected windfall was always nice, but I couldn’t understand it. “Why do you care so much about Evan Cole?” Ours was a marriage of convenience. After a year, we were still little more than polite strangers. Our conversations revolved around meals and sleep, with the occasional mention of work. That was it. This robotic dynamic even extended to our physical life. We were intimate every Friday night, exactly three times. Not once in the entire year of our marriage had that pattern been broken. I’d complained about it to my best friend, Nancy, once. After her initial shock, she’d sighed and said, “I guess that’s just Andrew Osment for you.” Andrew was a legend in our circles. Everyone had heard their parents praise him, and everyone had lived in his shadow. It was one thing to excel in one area, but to be a master of all of them, as he was, was almost unheard of. On top of that, he was incredibly self-disciplined and emotionally stable. It was impossible not to admire him. I used to admire him, too. Until I married him. How did this perfectly calibrated machine become my husband? The golden boy, the prodigy—he was much better admired from a distance. Living with him was a true test of one’s sanity. The machine-like husband finally spoke. “Why can’t I care?” “We dated, yes,” I clarified, “but that ended years ago. I’m your wife now. There’s… nothing between him and me.” “I hope you mean that.” “What?” “I don’t tolerate flaws,” he said, his voice flat. “Not in my life, and not in my marriage. I don’t want my marriage to end because you were unfaithful.” So that was it. I offered a sincere promise. “It won’t.” Satisfied with my answer, Andrew turned and walked into the bedroom. 2 By the time I finished showering, it was nearly midnight. I was lying in bed, drifting off, when I heard him ask, “What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?” “What are my options?” “Crab and pork wontons, pan-fried beef dumplings, or strawberry pancakes.” “The dumplings,” I said. “Extra crispy this time, please.” “Mm.” I must not have eaten much at the dinner, because the thought of Andrew’s beef dumplings made my stomach rumble. The man was a phenomenal cook, another area where his perfectionism shone. I’d had my share of fine dining, but his cooking always managed to surprise me. The first time I’d tasted his crab wontons, they were so sublime I thought I’d swallow my own tongue. I swallowed hard. “Are the dumplings already made?” “Yes. I made them tonight,” he said. “While you were out drinking with Evan Cole.” “…” I turned my head suspiciously to look at him. A strange thought occurred to me. When Andrew talked about Evan, he sounded… less like a machine. If I didn’t know him better, I would almost think he was jealous. Jealous over me. But how could that be possible? The machine spoke again. “Is something wrong?” “Nothing.” I pushed the chaotic thoughts from my mind. But his comment had successfully killed my appetite. I didn’t dare mention that I wanted to eat the dumplings now. I was afraid he’d just come back with another zinger like, Didn’t Evan Cole feed you dumplings while you were drinking? 3 I woke up late the next morning. Andrew had already packed the beef dumplings into an insulated container for me. He pressed a freshly bottled thermos of warm soy milk into my hands and said a quiet goodbye. Watching his retreating back, it struck me that, despite his robotic personality, he really did take good care of me. I ate breakfast at my desk. Just as I was about to start working, a message from Nancy popped up. Nancy: I heard Evan Cole is back! Me: I know. I had a drink with him last night. Nancy: HOLY SHIT! Nancy: You work fast! Nancy: Babe, don’t forget you’re a married woman now. You need to be careful about being seen with him. Me: … This was a constant source of frustration for me. I hadn’t dated anyone in the years since Evan and I broke up, simply because I hadn’t wanted to. But somehow, the rumor mill had twisted that into me being unable to get over him. I’d tried to explain, but it only made things worse. Even my best friend, Nancy, thought I was just being stubborn. I called her directly. “I’ve explained this a million times. I have zero feelings for him.” “Okay, okay,” she said, easily placated. Then she added, “Just be careful Andrew doesn’t find out about you drinking with Evan.” “…” “He already knows.” Nancy gasped. “NO WAY!” Talking about Evan was exhausting, but talking about Andrew’s very un-robotic behavior last night was suddenly fascinating. I gave her a dramatic, play-by-play account of his bizarre reaction, heavily emphasizing the fact that he’d handed me a divorce agreement over it. “Isn’t his perfectionism a little… extreme?” Nancy saw it differently. “I don’t know, it kind of sounds like he’s trying to keep you.” “What?” “Think about it. He hands you a divorce agreement, and now you won’t go near Evan Cole again, right?” “What if I had actually signed it?” “Would you have?” “…” No. Setting aside the complex ties between our families, on a purely practical level, I had no desire to divorce a catch like Andrew Osment. “The god is finally descending from Olympus!” Nancy declared dramatically. I rolled my eyes at her theatrics. “More like the super-android is finally showing signs of life.” “You should test him,” she said, her voice buzzing with excitement. “See if it’s just a system malfunction or if he’s actually turning into a real boy.” “How do I do that?” Her next words were heavy with insinuation. “Well, it is Friday…” 4 Nancy’s suggestion was simple, and it made my face burn. All I had to do was press Andrew for one more round. His “three times on a Friday” rule was as reliable as clockwork. If I could get him to break that pattern, to go for a fourth, wouldn’t that prove his programming had been altered? I hesitated, debated, and ultimately decided to do nothing. Finally, the time came. We were in bed. He leaned over me, our eyes meeting for a few seconds before he reached for the silk scarf on the nightstand. He gently covered my eyes, tying it in a soft knot behind my head. Normally, I never questioned it. I just assumed it was part of his routine. But tonight, with Nancy’s words buzzing in my mind, I spoke up. “Why do you always cover my eyes?” Andrew didn’t answer. He just lowered his head and kissed me. The wet, warm pressure of his lips pulled at my thoughts, and soon, the question of the blindfold faded from my mind. He held my entire world in his hands, lifting me up, setting me down, each movement a perfect, calculated wave that made my heart clench and release. When the third time was over, he gently removed the sweat-dampened scarf. I looked up into his eyes, and they were as calm and placid as a still lake. Even after seeing that look a hundred times, I couldn’t help but grit my teeth. How? How could he look so completely detached, so clinical, after something like this? He stroked my cheek, a gesture meant to soothe, and started to pull away— That’s when a spark of defiance lit inside me. I quickly hooked my legs around his waist, catching him off guard. He lurched forward, his body falling heavily against mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and under his startled gaze, I purred, “Can we go again?” 5 Andrew clearly hadn’t expected that. He froze for a few seconds. His gaze slid from my eyes, to my lips, down to my collarbone, and finally settled… somewhere lower. His Adam’s apple bobbed sharply. He turned his head away and said stiffly, “No.” “Why not?” The question was reflexive. I didn’t need to ask if he was capable. The moment I’d pulled him back against me, I knew he was more than capable. If he could, why say no? He wouldn’t look at me. “Too much… isn’t good for your body.” It was an answer I’d never considered. While scientifically sound, being so relentlessly logical took all the fun out of everything. I clung to him, refusing to let him go. “But what if I want to?” Andrew turned back, his eyes troubled. For the first time, I could clearly see the struggle warring within them. After a long moment, his resolve hardened. “No.” He reached out and gently smoothed my brow. “Just bear with it…” I had no intention of bearing anything. I pulled his head down and kissed him, my lips finding his with unerring accuracy. I was going to find out, once and for all, if this self-disciplined machine could truly lose control.

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I found an injured werewolf. During my downtime, my favorite thing to do was bury my face in his soft, thick fur and fall asleep. Later, after he healed and transformed back into his human form, he warned me, his eyes blazing with a fierce light. “A werewolf has only one mate in their entire life. I already have a she-wolf I love, and I will never, ever accept you.” With that, he ran off. I was left standing there, utterly stunned and confused. What was he talking about? I’d been treating him like a dog. What did any of this have to do with being his mate? … Later, I bought a big, goofy Labrador. As I was walking him home, I found the werewolf crouched by my front door, a look of utter misery on his face. “You humans are so fickle,” he sobbed. “Get rid of it. Keep me instead, please? My fur is thicker and softer than his. I eat less, and I can earn money—all of it for you. “…If you don’t agree, I’ll eat that stupid mutt you’re holding!” 1 It was the third month since I’d found the werewolf when he vanished into the dark and stormy night. Right before he left, he shot me a ferocious glare and warned me, “A werewolf has only one mate in their entire life. I already have a she-wolf I love, and I will never accept you! Get those disgusting thoughts out of your head. I will never love you!” And just like that, he was gone, leaving me frozen in place, completely bewildered. What on earth was he talking about? I had been treating him like a dog this whole time. What did that have to do with being his mate? 2 Finding the werewolf was a complete accident. At first, I thought he was just a large dog. But on the third day after I brought him home, I found him transformed into a man. He was sprawled lazily across my sofa cushions, munching on potato chips while watching TV. When something funny came on, his big, fluffy tail wagged back and forth with delight. In that moment, I think my brain short-circuited. I just stood there, questioning my own sanity. Later, with a look of utter disdain, he condescendingly explained the whole werewolf thing to me. Only then did I realize he was a perfectly normal—if evolved—creature. “So, can you eat kibble?” I asked, gently kneading his ear. “Don’t—don’t do that!” His face flushed a deep crimson, radiating heat as he took a step back. He answered me seriously, “I eat meat. I would never touch dog food. I’m not one of those pathetic, tail-wagging creatures that grovel for human affection.” I just stared at him. He was going to be high-maintenance. 3 The werewolf’s departure was as sudden as it was strange. I racked my brain for a while, trying to figure out what his deal was, but eventually, I gave up. Life returned to its calm, predictable rhythm. That is, until two weeks later. A potential client asked to meet at a café to discuss a project, so I brought my laptop and went. While we were talking, my eyes drifted, and by sheer coincidence, I saw him. The werewolf. He was in his human form—tall, powerfully built, and dressed in a sharp suit. His eyes were cold and distant as he leaned against the railing of the second-floor landing, gazing down at the crowd below with an air of impatience. “Miss Hayes, do you know Mr. Blackwood?” the client asked, noticing my gaze. His voice was full of hope. “He’s a major shareholder in Apex Industries. I picked this place specifically because I know he’s a regular here. Perhaps you could introduce us?” I blinked, realizing he was talking about the werewolf. I shook my head. “No, I don’t know him. I was just thinking he’s very handsome. Sorry.” The client sighed, unable to hide his disappointment. His attitude toward me cooled for the rest of the meeting. I didn’t mind. After I finished my presentation and was getting up to pay, I saw the werewolf again. He had his head tilted, speaking to a chic, sophisticated woman. They were standing incredibly close, their bodies almost overlapping, as if he were holding her in a loose embrace. It almost looks like they’re kissing, I thought, turning my eyes away without another thought. On my way home, I passed a pet shelter and saw a big, beautiful dog in the window. A golden Labrador. I placed my hand on the glass. As if on cue, he looked up, broke into a wide, goofy grin, and lifted a paw, pressing it against the glass right where my hand was. In that instant, my decision was made. I was taking him home. 4 Having a dog was so much easier than having a werewolf. My new dog couldn’t talk, he loved his kibble, and he was impeccably behaved. Whenever I wasn’t home, he would just lounge lazily on the rug, waiting for me to come back and take him for a walk. I took him everywhere—the beach, the park, even to see the seals at the aquarium. One day, I stopped at a coffee shop, but the barista said dogs weren’t allowed inside. I tied his leash to a post by the door and told him to be a good boy. Suddenly, two figures appeared beside me. It was the werewolf, and with him, the woman from the other day. The woman stared at my Labrador’s happily wagging tail and sneered. “Dogs… such beggars for human affection. They’re a disgrace to all canines.” Beside her, the werewolf’s gaze darkened, his eyes fixed on me with a stormy expression. I ignored them both. I ruffled my Labrador’s head and whispered, “Be a good boy, sweetie. Mommy’s making you meatballs tonight.” Then, I stood up and walked right past them without a single glance. 5 When I came out, my dog was gone. The leash was unclipped, and both it and the dog had vanished. For a second, I froze. The werewolf was standing by the door, lighting a cigarette. Seeing my panic, he let out a sound that was a mix of scorn and excitement. “See? It abandoned you. How could you expect loyalty from a creature with no real intelligence?” Werewolves could smoke? I turned away from him in disgust and started walking, calling out my dog’s name and asking passersby if they’d seen a golden Labrador. After walking for over a mile with no luck, a knot of panic began to tighten in my stomach. Just as I was about to call Animal Control, that smug, irritating voice sounded beside me again. “He’s gone, so just let him go. What’s so great about that dumb mutt anyway? Can’t even follow his owner’s scent. It’s a disgrace to the canine family. And what’s so good-looking about him? All yellowish-brown, like a pile of… well, you know. You shouldn’t just get a dog, you know. Canines are very possessive…” That was it. I snapped. “What is wrong with you?” I hissed, my voice shaking with suppressed fury. He froze, his expression turning to one of pure disbelief. “You’re yelling at me? For that stupid dog? You’ve only had him for two weeks, and you’re yelling at me for him! What’s next, are you going to set him on me? You can’t do this to me.” He looked genuinely hurt. So hurt, in fact, that he looked like he was about to cry. His normally narrow wolf eyes were wide and glistening with an angry red tint. I was speechless. I had no idea what was going through his head. “He’s my dog. Of course I’m going to protect him. Besides, you’re the one who said we have nothing to do with each other.” I looked him up and down, taking in his expensive, custom-tailored suit. Then, I held out my hand. “Looks like you’re doing pretty well for yourself in the human world. You can start by paying me back for all the meat you ate while I was taking care of you. I need to buy my dog some new toys.” “You—you!” He looked like he was about to choke on his own rage, stammering, “A dumb mutt doesn’t need toys…” “Mr. Blackwood!” A man’s voice cut him off, calling from across the street. The client from the other day came jogging over, his eyes shining with excitement. He turned to me, his attitude a complete one-eighty from our last meeting. “Miss Hayes! Why didn’t you tell me you knew Mr. Blackwood? That project—we’ll sign immediately! I’ll have our legal team draw up the contract right now. If I’d known you two were so close, we wouldn’t have wasted all this time!” I just stood there. My dog was missing, and now I was being forced to work on my day off. Damn werewolf. I forced a smile, and when the client wasn’t looking, I shot the werewolf a death glare. His expression crumpled into one of even deeper hurt, his big eyes welling up with tears that threatened to spill over at any second. 6 It was already seven in the evening by the time I finished signing the contract. Exhausted, I walked out of the office building only to find one man and one dog locked in a standoff by the entrance. My golden Labrador’s body was tense, his paws scraping against the pavement as he let out a low growl, warning off the threatening “wolf” scent of the man across from him. The werewolf, however, stood with his arms crossed, an air of complete disdain on his face as he spoke to the dog in a language I couldn’t understand. …Was he actually talking to my dog? Could dogs understand the language of wolves? I stood there in disbelief for a moment before walking over and stroking my dog’s head to soothe him. “It’s okay, sweetie, don’t be angry. Mommy’s back.” The werewolf was silent for a moment, then he walked over and crouched down beside me, his head lowered. “What are you doing?” I asked. “I want you to pet me, too.” He nudged his head closer. “You took care of me, too. You can’t just pet him and not me.” I was at a loss for words. I’d already learned his identity from the client. Aiden Blackwood. The youngest son of the prestigious Blackwood family, a major shareholder in Apex Industries, one of the country’s largest tech firms. He was part of the absolute top tier of wealth and power. How could he be such a shameless wolf? I stood up, my face cold. “Was it you who took my dog earlier?” “I didn’t steal him,” he mumbled. “The leash was loose. It came off with one tug, and then he just followed the scent of a hot dog I had. It wasn’t my fault…” I just stared at him, my silence a clear accusation. He bit his lip. “Okay, fine. I was wrong.” He looked utterly dejected. “You’re just too nice to him. You pet his head, you buy him toys, you even kiss him. I got jealous. You used to only have me, your one and only wolf.” 7 “Weren’t you the one who said you already had a she-wolf you loved? That we were finished, and that I should stop lusting after you?” I asked, my voice like ice. “That woman you were with the other day… is she the one?” “You’re using my love for her to taunt me now? Is this the loyalty you were talking about?” “I’m not being disloyal! That she-wolf is my sister! My actual, born-from-the-same-mother sister!” he explained, flustered. “It was you! You were hugging another man! I got angry, and that’s why I said all those hurtful things. A werewolf has only one mate for their entire life. We’re not like you humans—so fickle, so unfaithful…” His voice grew softer and more wretched with every word until he was wiping tears away with the back of his hand. “You saved me, you saw me in my pure wolf form, you touched me and held me so many times… that makes you my mate! You can’t betray me!” I… It works like that? 8 “I don’t like you. I only touched you before because I thought you were a dog… well, a canine. I don’t know how your werewolf people define the term ‘mate,’ but in the human world, hugs and pets don’t seal the deal.” I was brutally direct with him. “I got a commission from that project, which should cover the cost of your food while you were at my place. We’re even now. I don’t like you, and I don’t want to be your mate. Please stop doing these… strange things. Goodbye. Or rather, let’s just never see each other again.” With that, I grabbed my Labrador’s leash and walked away, my pace quick, desperate to put distance between myself and this bizarre werewolf. He didn’t follow. I let out a sigh of relief. Back home, I made my dog a hearty soup with beef, tofu, and cabbage, served with a side of kibble. I sat and watched him lick the bowl clean, my heart aching for him. “That mean werewolf made my baby starve all day,” I murmured, stroking his head. “Next time we see him, we’ll bite him, okay?” My dog grinned and gave me a high-five with his paw. That night, I was drifting in a hazy state between sleep and wakefulness when I felt something soft and furry brushing against my chin. Thinking it was my dog, I instinctively pushed it away. “Lucky, stop it, honey. Let Mommy sleep.” The furry thing paused for a second, then pressed in closer, its tongue darting out to lick my neck. Once, twice. The wet, sticky sensation sent a hot shiver down my spine. My eyes snapped open and met a pair of dark, narrow ones. They were staring straight at me, as if they wanted to devour me whole. It was the werewolf.

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Before the mission, I asked Stefan Goldberg one last time, “Will you marry me?” He was silent for a moment. “Fine.” My heart and the System’s virtual one dropped in unison. We’re screwed. Wasn’t the deal that after being rejected a hundred times, I could finally return to my own world? As it turned out, my panic was premature. On my final mission, I became the sacrificial lamb for his first love. Stefan spent three days by her side before he even remembered me. And when he did, all he heard was that I had died in the line of duty. 1 “Host, there’s really no need to rush.” “It’s your birthday. No one wants to be rejected on their birthday.” The only sound in the quiet hallway was my own breathing. I had just returned from a three-month overseas assignment and, despite my bone-deep exhaustion, I had come straight to find Stefan. There was only one reason. After seven years in this world, I wanted to go home. All I needed was to be rejected by Stefan Goldberg one hundred times, and I could return to my reality. And as luck would have it, the System had just informed me that only one rejection remained. Through the door, I could hear Stefan on the phone. The woman’s voice was on speaker, her sobs soft and heart-wrenching. “Stefan, I know you and Mindy have been together for three years, and I shouldn’t be bothering you, but I just… I couldn’t help it…” Her plea was met with a long, heavy silence. The woman on the other end was Stefan’s first love, Raina Lin. Over the years, she had been the primary reason for most of my rejections. Stefan changed the subject. “When are you coming back? I’ll throw you a welcome-home party.” “In what capacity?” “As your ex.” A brief silence, then her voice returned, laced with a new, defiant edge. “Well, my dear ex, I’m getting married. On the 20th of this month. You’re invited.” Stefan’s tone hardened. He bit out her name. “Raina!” She hung up. The System let out a cheer in my head. [Ooh, perfect! Host, get in there now! While he’s in a bad mood, ask him to marry you!] Normally, I would never choose such a moment to test my luck. But the hope of finally going home was a jolt of life in my weary soul. I pushed the door open and stepped into the darkness. Stefan sat before the massive floor-to-ceiling window, the city lights a glittering tapestry behind him. The glow of his phone illuminated one side of his face, tracing the sharp, perfect lines of his features. When he saw me, he blanked the screen and leaned back, his eyes closed. His voice was sharp. “What are you doing here?” See? The calendar was right there in plain sight, but he hadn’t even remembered my birthday. My palms began to sweat. “I have a mission tomorrow.” In my own world, I was a police academy graduate. So, in this one, I had chosen to be a police officer without a second thought. Stefan pinched the bridge of his nose, his tone frigid. “So? Is there something you need?” “Yes. After the mission… will you marry me?” The System exploded in my mind. [YEEEEES! I finally completed the mission! I’m getting a promotion! YES! YES! YES!] My reflection stared back at me from Stefan’s dark eyes. His brow was furrowed, a clear sign of his displeasure. I took a deep breath, lowered my head, and waited for the answer I so desperately wanted. To be honest, after loving him for so long, rejection still stung. But the System promised me money, a lot of money, real-world money I could actually spend. “Fine.” “What?” The System’s cheers came to a screeching halt. I looked up, stunned, meeting Stefan’s impossibly calm gaze. He slowly stroked the side of his phone. “I said, fine.” A few seconds later, the System and I uttered the same visceral curse. “Fuck…” 2 I hid in the bathroom, my accumulated frustration finally boiling over. “You popped the champagne too soon! You’re a real credit to your boss, you know that?!” The System was just as frantic. [It’s all your fault! Why did you have to remind him it was your birthday?! Can’t men just put away their cheap guilt?!] My head was pounding. The relentless overtime had drained every last drop of my energy. I leaned weakly against the sink. The System’s voice was small. [Maybe… you could ask him to sleep with you now?] I let out a cold laugh. “How about I ask him to die for me instead?” If only it were that easy. The architect of this game had plugged every possible loophole from the very beginning. Words like “sleep with me” or “die” were restricted. And the reasons for my requests couldn’t be repeated. After seven years, a marriage proposal was one of the few viable options left. We were at a stalemate. The sound of the faucet echoed in the small space. I sat on the toilet lid, trying to think of another request that would guarantee rejection. Suddenly, my phone rang. An unknown number. I answered, and a gentle woman’s voice came through. “Miss Crawford? This is Raina Lin.” My hand shot out and gripped the edge of the sink. At my silence, Raina let out a soft, triumphant laugh. “You probably don’t know me very well, but that’s alright. I know you very well.” “I’ve eaten the lunches you made for Stefan. I’ve worn the white shirts you washed for him. The last time he left your birthday celebration to come find me, he still had a strand of your hair caught on his tie clip.” I leaned against the cool porcelain of the bathtub, my voice like ice. “And?” Raina laughed again. “Are you genuinely stupid, or just pretending? Don’t you get it? Last year, on your birthday, I gave him my first time. This year, I chose your birthday to come back, and he forgot all about you. Do I really need to spell out who Stefan Goldberg truly loves?” I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Seven years had etched fine lines around my eyes. The eyes that once lit up at the mere sight of Stefan were now filled with a weary numbness. I took a deep breath. “No, you don’t. Because Stefan is going to marry me.” The other end went silent. Then, Raina’s voice turned sharp. “You don’t have to say things like that to spite me. You can’t win against me.” Stefan was knocking on the bathroom door. I hid the phone behind my back, swung the door open, and asked in a soft voice, “Will you come with me to try on wedding dresses tomorrow?” Stefan froze for a second, then wrapped his arms around me. His voice held a rare, gentle indulgence. “Of course. On our wedding day, you’ll be the most beautiful bride.” I hung up the phone, fighting back a wave of nausea as I accepted Stefan’s kiss. Raina, I thought, you’d better not let me down. 3 That night, I waited a long time, but no call came from Raina to Stefan. His fiery kisses trailed across my skin. Stefan seemed particularly aroused, but at the last moment, I pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him. “I have a mission tomorrow. Let’s just… leave it at this.” He was clearly unsatisfied. But I pushed him away, turned my back, and pulled the covers up to my chin. Stefan was silent for a long time before sighing. “Alright.” The sound of the shower started a moment later. The System voiced my own worry. [Did you come on too strong? Did Raina give up?] “I doubt it.” From what I knew of Raina, she would rather die than give up on Stefan. … The next day, the weather was gloomy. When I woke up, Stefan was, for once, not already gone. He was sitting at the dining table with me. The clinking of cutlery was the only sound in the living room. Stefan broke the silence. “After this mission, you should transfer to a desk job. You’ll be my wife; you don’t need to work so hard.” The System buzzed in my head: [I want a fried egg. A fried egg!] I kept my eyes down, slicing a piece of ham. “Okay.” Stefan continued, as if dictating notes to his secretary. “I’ll be at the office on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. The rest of the week, I’ll be home with you. I don’t want you coming to my office to find me.” The System wailed: [No cheese! I want noodles!] I smiled faintly. “Okay.” Stefan frowned. He watched me finish my milk, push back my chair, and start to walk away. “Mindy.” I turned back. “What?” Stefan stared at me. “You’ve never been this obedient before. What’s wrong today?” Honestly, I hadn’t heard a single word of his pointless monologue. “Nothing.” I smiled. “Maybe it’s just the impending good news.” Stefan tugged at his tie, the straight line of his lips betraying his inner frustration. See? He was a hundred times against marrying me. A corner of my mouth lifted. “Hey, Stefan. Aren’t you going to wish me a safe return?” He snapped back to the present. After a moment, he said, “Return safely.” “Thanks.” I turned and walked out. System: [Ugh, so boring. I really thought he was going to refuse to say it.] 4 In the seven years I’d been here, the city had been relatively safe. Violent crimes were rare. It figured that on my very last assignment, I’d run into one. A vicious kidnapping. The kidnapper demanded thirty million in ransom and a van for his getaway. When I arrived on the scene, a light rain was falling. My colleague, Yara, was sitting on the stairs, her eyes red. “Mindy, the negotiator is already in there. The kidnapper is demanding a hostage exchange.” “A hostage exchange?” “Yeah… because the current hostage… is a pregnant woman.” A heavy silence fell over the team. In a situation like this, if the kidnapper agreed to a swap, one of us had to go in. “So… has a choice been made?” Yara bit her lip. “He wants a woman.” There were only two female officers on the team: me and Yara. Her husband was a detective who had been injured recently and was still in the hospital. I unholstered my pistol and handed it to her. “I understand. I’ll do it.” The System shrieked in my head: [Host, this isn’t a joke! If you die by accident, you can’t go back!] But I couldn’t let Yara go. In these seven years, Yara had been with me far more than Stefan ever had. We were the best partners. Yara threw her arms around me, sobbing. “Mindy, I’m so sorry. I know you’re about to get married, I’m so sorry, but my husband… he’s still in the hospital…” “I know.” I patted her shoulder, then turned and walked into the rain. It was an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city. Through the misty rain, I saw the woman in the kidnapper’s arms. Her pale face couldn’t hide her beauty. Long, dark hair was plastered to her temples, her large eyes filled with a pitiful terror. She clutched her stomach protectively. “Please, save me! I’m pregnant! I’m carrying the Goldberg family heir…” My heart skipped a beat. System: [It’s Raina.] Our eyes met through the curtain of rain. I couldn’t describe the feeling in my chest. The kidnapper viciously cut her arm with a dagger, and blood began to flow. “Get over here now! Or I’ll send her to hell!” Raina’s eyes widened in terror as she looked at me. “Mindy, please! I can’t die! Stefan will go mad! If he finds out you didn’t save me, he’ll hate you for the rest of his life…” So, she knew who I was. I glanced back at Yara. And sighed. I turned and walked toward the kidnapper. The moment the cold blade was pressed against my neck, Raina stumbled into the safety of the police perimeter. It was just me and the kidnapper. “The van I asked for!” Before I got in, my captain gave me a meaningful look. According to the plan, they would track the vehicle. I just needed to find an opportunity to help them take him down. I was bound and thrown into the passenger seat. At the last moment, I saw Stefan break through the police line and catch a fainting Raina in his arms. 5 The car sped down the empty highway. The ropes bit into my flesh, raw and bleeding. The last police car disappeared behind us in the rain. The kidnapper chuckled. “Don’t bother looking. They’re not coming for you.” “What do you mean?” He turned on the radio and started humming a tune. A news report was playing—an interview with Raina. Her words were panicked and disjointed. “I heard the kidnapper say they were meeting up in the south district! Please, you have to save her!” But we were racing north. Soon, all police resources would be diverted south. The kidnapper took me to a dilapidated shack in the countryside. He pulled out his dagger. “Miss Lin is much prettier than you. I have no idea what Mr. Goldberg sees in you.” Even if I were a complete idiot, I would have figured out by now that he and Raina were working together. I dodged his blade. “Please, just let me make one phone call.” The kidnapper sneered. “To who? Your captain? In your dreams.” “To Stefan Goldberg.” At that, the kidnapper laughed. He kicked me hard. “Officer Crawford, are you some kind of lovesick fool? Do you really think you mean anything to Stefan Goldberg?” He grabbed my hair and shoved my phone in my face. “Fine. I’ll indulge you.” A few rings, and the call was disconnected. The kidnapper grew more excited. He dialed again. Stefan hung up again. He seemed to be enjoying this, staring at my face, trying to catch a flicker of despair as he repeatedly dialed and was rejected. But I disappointed him. Enraged, he plunged the dagger into my back. A searing pain shot through me, and I let out a muffled groan. He pressed his face against my neck, his voice trembling with excitement. “Let’s play a game, shall we? Tell Stefan Goldberg your location. If he can’t get here in thirty minutes, you’ll bleed to death.” Warm liquid streamed down my back, soaking my uniform. The phone finally connected. Stefan’s voice was ice. “What is it?” My teeth were chattering from the pain. “He’s in the north district—” “Who?” “The suspect. He kidnapped me. I’m with him.” Stefan was silent for a moment. “Mindy, is this some kind of joke?” I coughed up a mouthful of blood, my words slurring. “Stefan—” “Enough.” It was the first time Stefan had ever spoken to me with such a sharp, cutting edge. “There are some things I’ve never told you. Raina is my bottom line. Don’t use this to test my feelings. If you’re jealous, then you can stay in your precious north district. I never asked you to be a hero for her.” A sickening squelch. The kidnapper stabbed me again. It hurt. “It hurts,” I gasped, clinging to the phone like a lifeline, my voice breaking into a sob. “Stefan, will you marry me? Please, just come find me now, please?” Stefan was silent for a beat, then his voice came back, cold and merciless. “Raina’s pregnant. Everything I said before… is off the table.” [Ding! Mission Objective Achieved: Rejected by the male lead 100 times.] [Congratulations, Host, on completing the mission.] [Calculating rewards…] [Calculation complete.] [Mission Reward: 80 million. Severe Injury Compensation: 30 million. Total: 110 million. Special Bonus Talent Unlocked: Police Intuition. Countdown: 3 seconds to world departure. Welcome back to reality. We wish you a happy life.]

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I was Charles Schwartz’s most devoted admirer. When he skipped class to sleep, I covered for him. When he pursued the new transfer student, I delivered his love letters. After high school graduation, the transfer student went off to an Ivy League university. I went abroad with Charles. In that foreign land, I finally claimed my prize, feasting to my heart’s content. Until the transfer student came to the same city for postgraduate studies. When Charles once again stayed out all night with her, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was time for me to go home. The Schwartz family had paid for my entire overseas education. It would be rude to just break up with him. 1 The Schwartzs were the most powerful and influential family in our exclusive compound. Charles was the undisputed king of all the neighborhood kids. I’d followed him since we were little. He was the most fun, and by far the most handsome. If the Schwartz family hadn’t disapproved, he would have been snatched up by talent scouts and launched into stardom. Just looking at Charles’s face, I could eat an extra two bowls of rice. And the closer I was to Charles, the higher my standing at home. As we grew older, everyone became more aware of gender. The girls stopped hanging out with the boys all day. But I was different. I continued to stick to Charles like glue, utterly shameless. Charles grew into the handsome young man everyone expected. His eyes were sharp, his jawline sculpted, exuding a rakish, youthful charm. Meanwhile, I slowly became known as Charles’s “sycophant” – his eager admirer. They mocked me, scorned me, looked down on me. But they didn’t know how much I gained. Charles didn’t love me, but the Schwartzs trusted me. My family received crucial resources, and I, too, was placed in classes filled with the children of the elite, all thanks to my association with Charles. 2 High school for the children of the powerful wasn’t tedious. Their paths were meticulously planned from birth, every road leading to success. Even if one path closed, they could simply conjure another. I was different. My family could only guarantee me a life of comfort and ensure my social standing wasn’t a detriment in circles that valued lineage. Therefore, I clung to Charles even tighter. When he skipped class, I provided cover. When he slept, I copied his homework. Even when he became infatuated with Sophia Miller, the new transfer student, I was the one who gathered intelligence. Sophia was a tenacious little wild rose, admitted on a full scholarship and grants. Countless girls had pursued Charles – innocent ones, seductive ones, children of celebrities, children of politicians – but all had returned empty-handed. I’d even begun to suspect Charles didn’t like women. But the moment Sophia walked to the front of the classroom and introduced herself, it was like a switch flipped in him. He had no idea how to pursue someone, yet he clumsily chased Sophia for three months. This gave me the perfect opportunity. I outmaneuvered the other male admirers, leveraging my position to serve Charles to the fullest. Oh, and by the way, those male admirers never called themselves sycophants. They considered themselves Charles’s childhood friends. It seemed that because I was a girl, my deference to Charles was “sycophancy,” but their flattery was “friendship.” How amusing. I bought Sophia breakfast. I played tennis with her during gym class. Sophia had never encountered anyone so kind in this school. Her eyes were filled with gratitude and trust when she looked at me. It was then that I handed her the love letter I had prepared long ago. Sophia froze, her expression disbelieving. I quickly added, “It’s from Charles Schwartz.” As expected, Sophia tossed the letter into the trash. Charles went to confront her, only to be called a “spoiled trust fund baby.” After that, Sophia stopped speaking to me altogether. I didn’t care. I was too busy consoling a heartbroken Charles. He’d lived a life of uninterrupted ease; this was his first real setback. He pretended indifference, drinking as if it didn’t matter, but two glasses later, he was completely drunk. In his stupor, he cradled my face in his hands, asking me repeatedly, “Why? Why doesn’t she like me?” I whispered gently, “She just has no taste.” “Charles, I like you.” I saw a flicker of clarity in his hazy eyes. 3 After Sophia rejected him, Charles suddenly became like some of his childhood friends, cycling through girlfriends at a rapid pace. A new one every week. Sometimes, one might even last a month. But his gaze never truly left Sophia. Soon, the high school finals arrived. After the exams, Sophia was accepted into a prestigious Ivy League university. Charles chose to study abroad. When I visited the Schwartz estate to deliver some homemade desserts from my mother, Mrs. Schwartz asked me about my plans. I feigned nonchalance. “It depends on my scores, I suppose. You know, Aunt Eleanor, I’m not really cut out for academics.” I was, in fact, quite skilled. But my high school years had been entirely dedicated to looking after Charles. When he had a fever or a cold, I was the first to contact the Schwartz family secretary. When he went abroad to party, I was the one who kept them updated. Mrs. Schwartz looked thoughtful. That summer was an excruciating wait for me. Others waited for their scores, their university acceptance letters, the start of a new semester. I waited for Lady Luck to smile upon me. Finally. On a tranquil summer evening, Mrs. Schwartz called personally, inviting my family to dinner. I still remember how cool the breeze was that night, how crisp the cicadas chirped. She didn’t know how long I had been holding my breath before that call. I had won the gamble. My future would be intertwined with Charles’s for a long time. As bright as Charles’s future was, so too would mine be blessed with favors and opportunities. A month later, Charles and I departed for overseas. A top-tier university. Charles’s “friends” looked at me with open envy. “Summer, do you really enjoy being his doormat?” “Aren’t you afraid you’ll never get married like this? Oh, wait, you can just cling to Charles your entire life, like a parasite, and bring your kids along with you.” See, see? The ugliness of a man’s jealousy. 4 After moving abroad, Charles’s appeal only grew. His features had matured. The blend of boyishness and masculine refinement, sharp angles mixed with a subtle sensuality, made hearts flutter. I continued to serve him diligently, enduring his every whim. During his first year abroad, Charles let loose completely. He might be in Seattle in the morning and Los Angeles by evening. His parade of girlfriends still changed weekly. Around the holidays, Mr. Schwartz’s mistress, along with their thirteen-year-old illegitimate son, caused a scene with Mrs. Schwartz. Mrs. Schwartz told Charles not to come home. I stayed with Charles, and we spent the holidays together in New York. While we were waiting for the new year, he suddenly asked me, “Summer, can a person’s heart truly remain unchanged?” I didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” I said. Charles smiled. “But I think… I might not like Sophia anymore. I can’t even remember what she looks like. Yet back then, I thought I’d never loved anyone like that before…” I thought he was simply drawn to someone completely different from himself. What kind of love was that? But if he were to ask me what love was, I wouldn’t have an answer either. No one had ever taught us. The fireworks outside the window illuminated Charles’s impossibly beautiful face. On a whim, I grabbed the lapel of his shirt and pressed my lips against his perfect mouth. The rhythm of adults is fast. By the time Charles reacted, the arrow was already released. A flash of annoyance crossed his face as he looked at me. “Are you sure about this?” The coursework at a top-tier university was challenging. And I still had to be Charles’s caretaker. I needed to release some pent-up energy. Charles, this is your task. This is my well-deserved reward. I ran my hands over his sculpted abs and answered his question. I truly was eating well. Charles’s eyes darkened, as if he meant to devour me whole. He was spoiled, arrogant, extravagant… full of flaws. But his physical form was a rare treasure. And it happened to fall into my hands. I was unleashing years of suppressed pressure. My suffocating childhood, the dysfunctional family dynamics, had left me constantly on edge. I spent it all lavishly on Charles. He responded to my passion, seemingly tireless. “Summer, do you really like me that much?” I nodded wildly. “Summer, don’t regret this.” He stared at me with an intense gaze, as if trying to pierce my soul. For a moment, I had the fleeting illusion that he might actually like me. After that night, Charles and I were together. There was no formal confession, no public announcement. But he stopped seeing other women. Once, an Asian-American girl pursued him relentlessly. He finally snapped, telling her he already had a girlfriend. This caused a ripple effect. Many people began asking who Charles’s girlfriend was. A few days later, I received a call from Mrs. Schwartz. She inquired about my studies and then deposited a seven-figure sum into my account for living expenses. Just before hanging up, she said, “Thank you for taking such good care of Charles.” Before I could react, the line was dead. She knew everything. Her perception of my role was like that of a live-in companion of convenience from ancient times – a woman kept for utility. Charles walked in right then. “Summer, what are you dawdling for?” I looked up, smiling. “Coming.”

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The second year after my birth parents took me in, my entire family was dragged into a horror game. A Siren, his silk robes hanging open to reveal a half-finished skin he was painting onto himself, asked his victims if he was beautiful with a voice that chilled the bone. A Vase Maiden giggled as she rolled across the floor, searching for a replacement to star in her little show. I stared at the familiar faces in this terrifyingly familiar place, and with a sharp cry, I clapped my hands over my eyes. “Elara? Lysander? What in the world are you two doing?!” The Siren froze, swiftly pulling his robes shut. The Vase Maiden instantly sprouted a body, suddenly looking prim and proper. “Oh, our little star,” they murmured in unison. “What are you doing back here?” 1 [Attention all players, you have now entered the Horror Game.] [Current Instance: Hollow Creek] [Difficulty: SSS-Rank. This is a Merged Instance.] [Objective: Survive for ten days.] [Number of Players: 10] [Good luck to all players.] The robotic voice echoed in my ears, leaving me dazed. A moment ago, I was in the middle of a family tribunal, locked in a crying competition with my sister, Cassandra. Cassandra was bawling because her final exam scores were lower than mine, milking it for all the parental sympathy she could get. I was crying out of sheer terror. I’ve always been able to see things others can’t. Right then, a phantom doll was perched on Cassandra’s shoulder, while the ghost of a woman clung to her back. In the blink of an eye—the time it took to wipe away a tear—my surroundings had changed completely. I looked around. Besides my family of five, there were five strangers. Cassandra, trembling, burrowed into our mother’s arms. “Where are we?” she shrieked. “What is this place?” My father, Robert, shielded my brother Nathan like a mother hen, his eyes darting around nervously. I stood off to the side, completely alone. The five strangers—three men and two women—seemed to know each other. Their leader, a man with a jagged scar across his face whom the others called Blade, glared at us. “Dammit. What rotten luck,” he grumbled. “An SSS-rank Merged Instance, and we get saddled with five rookies.” “Look at them,” another one scoffed. “Useless. All they do is cry.” “So damn loud.” I cautiously approached them, picking out a woman who seemed slightly less hostile. “Excuse me,” I asked, my voice small. “Do you know where we are?” She raised a skeptical eyebrow, her sharp features giving her an air of superiority. “Well, look at that. A newbie who knows how to use her mouth. A rare find.” Her gaze flickered dismissively toward Cassandra. “Better than the professional mourners over there, at least.” She gave me a once-over. “This is the Horror Game. People with intense desires are usually the ones who get pulled in. Clear an instance, you get points. Points can be exchanged for anything—a longer life, money, power. Anything you want.” “And if you fail the game?” I asked, my heart sinking. Her expression darkened, a wave of sorrow washing over her. “You die. You become fuel for the game.” She paused, her eyes meeting mine again. “My name’s Sienna. Stick with me. You can call me Sienna.” A surprised smile bloomed on my face. Tough on the outside, but kind on the inside. I’d chosen the right person. “Okay, thank you, Sienna.” “I’m Seraph. You can call me Seraph.” 2 Suddenly, lines of text materialized in the air, a live chat feed visible only to us. [SSS-Rank Merged Instance? These guys are toast.] [The Hollow Creek instance has three bosses. Survive ten days? They’ll be lucky to last three.] [That newbie Seraph hit the jackpot, latching onto Sienna right away.] [What kinda luck do Blade and Sienna have? SSS-rank, five dead-weight rookies… Someone play ‘Taps’ for them.] I stared at the floating comments in fascination. “Sienna,” I whispered, “I can see this chat. Can you?” “Normal,” she replied curtly. “Every instance is live-streamed to boost our survival odds. You can get intel from the comments.” I nodded, only half-understanding. An iron gate before us creaked open slowly, and in a blink, we were standing in a quaint, old-fashioned town. But this town… it was chillingly familiar. It looked exactly like the one at the foot of the mountain where I grew up, before my birth parents found me. Even the stone griffin at the town entrance, with its chipped wing, was identical. [Mission One: Enter Hollow Creek and evade the Vase Maiden’s attack.] [It is the annual Midsummer Festival, and Hollow Creek is alive with celebration. On the main stage, the ringmaster has unveiled his main attraction: the Vase Maiden. Tormented by her limbless form, she seeks a replacement to take her place in the show.] [The Vase Maiden will appear in thirty seconds. Players are advised to hide immediately. Anyone caught will be assimilated and become the new Vase Maiden.] [The show begins in ten minutes. Good luck.] 3 The announcement sent everyone scattering, scrambling for cover. Sienna grabbed my arm and pulled me into a large wooden wardrobe inside a nearby cottage. Instinctively, Cassandra and my mother, Eleanor, followed us, piling in right behind me. The cramped space was now suffocating with four people. Sienna scowled, clearly wanting to find a new spot, but it was too late. With a grimace, she pressed herself against the wall of the wardrobe. A hollow, scraping sound began outside, growing closer, accompanied by a mournful, lilting song: “The hills are green, oh, the road is long~” The Vase Maiden giggled between verses as she rolled around, searching. “Are you in here?” she cooed. “Or maybe… over here? Hee hee~” The scraping sound rolled through the town, then suddenly stopped. A shrill laugh pierced the silence. “Found you~!” A man’s horrifying scream tore through the air. It sounded horribly familiar. It sounded like my father. Tears streamed down my mother’s face as she clamped a hand over her mouth, muffling a sob, her body rigid with fear. [Player Robert Sterling has failed the mission. Assimilated by the Vase Maiden. Remaining survivors: 9] The chat feed exploded. [This is SSS-rank for you. Someone dies two minutes in.] [That rookie had the worst luck. Caught almost instantly.] [Wait, wasn’t that his son next to him? He shoved his own father out to die! That’s cold-blooded.] [Oh god, the assimilation process is brutal. They’re tearing off his limbs and stuffing him in the vase right now.] Reading the chat’s graphic descriptions of my father’s fate, Cassandra and my mother began to sob uncontrollably. I just felt a hollow sort of pity. In the year since they’d found me, I’d been blamed for everything and hit more times than I could count. I couldn’t find any tears for him. 4 The scraping sound started again. This time, it stopped right outside our wardrobe. A chilling voice whispered, “Is anyone in here?” Everyone inside the wardrobe froze, holding their breath. “Hee hee hee… I see you… I see you.” “Don’t hide… Come out and play…” Beside me, Cassandra’s body went ramrod straight. Sienna held up a finger, silently warning us not to move. The chat was buzzing with advice: [She’s bluffing! Don’t open the door!] [Damn, this boss is smart. She’s trying to bait them out.] [It’s no good. You have to sacrifice one person. Once the Vase Maiden kills someone in a room, she won’t return to it.] The scraping sound moved into the cottage. My mother and Cassandra exchanged a look—a silent, desperate agreement. Then, with a unified shove, they pushed me out of the wardrobe. Sienna gasped, her hand shooting out to grab me, but she was too late. I stumbled forward and fell right at the feet of the Vase Maiden. A beautiful porcelain vase with the head of a gorgeous woman perched on top. Skin like cream, a face like a blossoming rose. So, so familiar. Our eyes met, and tears instantly welled in mine. “Elara,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “What have they done to you?” Chapter 5 The chat feed was flooded with question marks. [????] [Is the girl delirious from fear? Why’s she calling the monster a name?] [It’s over. The Vase Maiden is gonna be pissed. Hope this newbie gets a quick death.] [The Vase Maiden literally rips people’s limbs off. For a stunt like this? It’s gonna be so much worse. A moment of silence for her.] Seeing my tears, the Vase Maiden jolted. In a flash, her form shifted. The porcelain vase melted away, reforming into a stunning, form-fitting silk gown. A full body materialized beneath it, graceful and elegant. She produced a honey cake from thin air and gently pressed it into my hand, her voice soft and soothing. “Oh, my little star, what are you doing back here? Don’t cry, don’t cry. Your big sister is just… working a temp job.” Her voice was laced with panic. “Did I scare you? I’m so sorry.” “Here, have something sweet. It’ll make you feel better.” The Vase Maiden was none other than Elara, my eldest sister-in-training from the Sanctuary, the one who had practically raised me. I was seventeen when my birth parents found me. Before that, my entire life had been at the Sanctuary on Azure Mountain. From my earliest memories, it was always Elara and Lysander by my side. Elara taught me to read, flew kites with me, bought me snacks and my first phone, and baked the best cakes. But seeing her now, her true form crammed into that tiny vase… an unbearable ache filled my chest. The chat was stunned silent, then erupted. [Wait, the Vase Maiden is ACTUALLY her sister?!] [Does this newbie have some kind of mind-control skill? How can a player have a connection to a BOSS?] [I don’t believe it. The Vase Maiden actually showed mercy.] [Am I the only one who noticed the BOSS LITERALLY GREW A BODY for this player?] Seeing a familiar face, all the misery and injustice I’d felt at the Sterling’s house came rushing back. The tears I’d been holding back now streamed down my cheeks. All the times Cassandra had framed me, all the times my parents had ignored me… I’d wanted to run back to the Sanctuary, but I could never find the way. 6 My sobbing intensified, and Elara went into full-blown panic mode. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry! Tell me what’s wrong. Tell your sister everything.” Her eyes narrowed, her gaze locking onto the wardrobe where my mother and Cassandra were hiding. A dangerous glint appeared in her eyes, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “Are they treating you badly? That family of yours… Say the word, and I’ll end them for you.” The threat, cold and lethal, made the two women in the wardrobe tremble. I just shook my head, unable to speak. Elara thought for a moment. She pulled out a smartphone, quickly opened up my favorite streaming show, and pressed it into my hands, gently patting my back. “There, there, my little treasure. Don’t cry. Your sister is fine, see? Everything’s fine.” Suddenly, her body tensed. “Little star,” she said, her expression apologetic, “I have to get back to work. It’s… busy. You just watch your show, okay? I’ll come find you later.” Her phoenix-like eyes flickered to the wardrobe again. She shot a withering glare at my mother and Cassandra before pointing at Sienna. “You. Come here.” Sienna hesitated for a second before stepping out. Elara handed her a pile of snacks—honey cakes, peach tarts, chips, soda. “My little sister is timid, and she loves to eat. Take care of her for me. Protect her.” When Sienna nodded, Elara smiled, satisfied. She tossed a dagger to her. “This is your payment for looking after her.” [Congratulations, Player Sienna, you have obtained the SS-Rank Attack Item: Dagger of Shadows.] Sienna stared at the ornate dagger, her expression one of utter disbelief. Elara then knelt and tied a small silver bell to my belt. “Little sister, if you need me, just ring this.” [Congratulations, Player Seraph, you have obtained the SS-Rank Summoning Item: Silver Bell.] I nodded, wanting to ask her to stay but managing only to whisper, “Be safe, Elara.” With her instructions given, Elara closed the cottage door behind her. The hollow, scraping sound of the vase started up once more outside. 7 After Elara left, everyone still alive looked at me with an impossibly complex mix of awe, fear, and jealousy. The chat, which had been quiet, roared back to life. [Damn. Everyone else comes to these instances to survive. This girl came for a vacation.] [I’m so jealous I could scream. She just got two SS-rank items handed to her?] [Did this newbie trigger a hidden questline? Why is the Vase Maiden so soft on her?] [I’m reporting Seraph for cheating! This is impossible! Last time the Vase Maiden appeared, she killed nine people in ten minutes!] I ignored the chat’s uproar. Sienna looked at me, her expression a whirlwind of emotions. “Seraph,” she began hesitantly, “you know the Vase Maiden?” I finished chewing the piece of honey cake in my mouth and corrected her. “She’s not the Vase Maiden. She’s Elara, the eldest sister from my home, the Sanctuary. And she’s the kindest, gentlest person in the world…” I launched into a gushing speech, singing her praises. The chat was speechless. [Are you kidding me? The Vase Maiden? Kind and gentle?] [I want to see you say that again when she’s tearing a man limb from limb.] The flood of information was overwhelming. Cassandra finally snapped out of her shock and lunged at me, ready to strike, but Sienna kicked her away with a sharp movement. “Seraph! Why are you so damn lucky?!” Cassandra shrieked. My mother, Eleanor, marched forward, her hand raised to slap me. Sienna caught her wrist in an iron grip. Eleanor’s face was contorted with grief and fury. “You knew her! Why didn’t you save your father?! You let him die such a horrible death!” Before I could answer, the chat jumped to my defense. [? Is this woman serious? Seraph didn’t know it was her sister.] [I’ve seen shameless people before, but this mother-daughter duo takes the cake.] [Wow. Just… wow. What a pair of witches.] I wasn’t known for my patience, and with Elara backing me up, I fired back. “I didn’t know it was her! And even if I did, why would I have saved him?!” My mother stared at me, aghast. “He was your father!” “Was he?” I shot back. “You could’ve fooled me. From the way you all treated me, I thought I was just some stray you picked up off the street.” It was the truth. When my birth parents brought me home, I discovered they had already adopted another girl, Cassandra, to replace me. From day one, they criticized me for not being “sophisticated” enough, for lacking the “grace of a wealthy heiress.” Cassandra and my brother Nathan went out of their way to torment me, and my parents always looked the other way. I even had to earn my own allowance by telling fortunes for strangers. My words left my mother stunned, her shock quickly turning to rage. She pointed a trembling finger at me, calling me ungrateful, but Sienna shut her up with a sharp glare that could cut glass. 8 Screams echoed from outside the cottage as the system continued its grim broadcast. [Player Donovan has failed the mission. Assimilated by the Vase Maiden. Remaining survivors: 8] [Player Lynn has failed the mission. Assimilated by the Vase Maiden. Remaining survivors: 7] The ten minutes passed quickly, with no more deaths. We pushed open the door and met up with the other three survivors. We all looked shaken and disheveled, but the game waited for no one. The Vase Maiden’s show was about to begin. The stage was a cacophony of music and celebration. Three large vases, each half the height of a person, sat center stage, covered with red cloths. A ringmaster gave an impassioned speech about the wonders of the Vase Maidens. Then, with a flourish, he whipped off the cloths. Inside each vase was the twisted body of a dead player—my father and the two others. Their heads lolled against the rims of the vases, their faces ashen and defeated, like wilted flowers. The “Vase People” were paraded around the stage for the townspeople’s amusement. The remaining players turned away, unable to watch. A chilling sense of “that could have been me” settled over us. Nathan’s face was pale as a sheet as he covered his mouth, trying not to be sick. The somber mood didn’t last long. The system issued its next mission.

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