A heaviness that didn’t ease, not even with ti. It wasn’t fear—it was sothing deeper, like the remnants of a bond she hadn’t fully severed, no matter how far she tried to run.
But everything changed the mont the courier handed her the envelope.
Her new passport.
Official. Sealed. Final.
The mont her fingers touched the smooth cover, Lina finally exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. It was as if a thousand invisible chains loosened around her chest.
She was free now—truly free.
And soon, she would be gone. Far from Christian. Far from his reach. Out of his territory and out of his life.
There would be no more late-night calls. No more pleading. No more waiting for a love that never ca on ti.
This ti, she would leave first, and watch what would happen at a safe distance.
It was the first ti Lina truly realized how useless she had been at the start of it all—thrown into a world without a proper guide, without any helpful interface or beginner tutorial.
No information dumps, no system prompts explaining the rules. Nothing to tell her what kind of ga she had been forced to play.
Classic Rank-A World.
It didn’t hold your hand. It didn’t care if you stumbled or failed or died. From the mont you were dropped in, you were expected to survive with nothing but your wits, instincts, and pain tolerance.
Still, Lina couldn’t complain. This was the very thing she had signed up for.
She’d wanted a challenge. She’d wanted to test herself, to see what she was made of beyond the confines of safety and structure.
And now, she was living it—this chaotic, unpredictable path full of heartbreak, betrayal, and consequences she had no way of predicting.
Yet despite it all, sothing in her still thrilled at the unknown. That rush she felt when she made a move no one expected. The danger of navigating without a map. The satisfaction of making choices that mattered.
This wasn’t the path of a side character, or even a tragic heroine. It was ssy. Risky. Brutal.
But it was hers—and she would do nothing but win.
Every loss, every scar, every betrayal—it would all an sothing in the end. She would make sure of it.
Lina stepped out of the hotel with her belongings packed neatly into a single carry-on bag. Everything she needed, everything she could carry from this life, was with her. There was no looking back now.
She had gone through great lengths to conceal herself. Her entire appearance was different—long sleeves and tailored pants covered every inch of her skin despite the sumr heat.
A wide-brimd hat sat atop a new shoulder-length haircut dyed a natural chestnut brown, and dark oversized sunglasses masked the sharp glint in her eyes.
A black KN95 mask covered the lower half of her face, and even her stride had changed—more relaxed, less distinct. Confident, but anonymous.
She didn’t use any cards, no online bookings, no digital trail. Only cash. A pre-booked flight under a na carefully arranged by one of her mother’s old contacts, sealed with a passport issued just a day ago.
She hailed a cab and gave the driver simple instructions. As they pulled up to the airport, Lina’s fingers tightened around the handle of her bag. She took a steadying breath.
Just a few more steps and she would be free. Out of Christian’s reach. Out of this twisted, painful narrative that had tried so hard to cage her.
But the mont she stepped out of the cab and scanned the entrance to the terminal, her heart sank.
Sothing felt off.
There were more guards than usual—far more. And not just the standard airport security. These n had a more formal, deliberate presence.
They weren’t just scanning bags or checking tickets. They were stationed. Watching. Waiting.
Lina’s breath hitched as she noticed a cluster of them talking in hushed tones, glancing toward the crowd—and then toward her.
One of them raised his hand and pointed.
She froze.
No. No, no, no.
Her heart thundered in her chest. Her palms went clammy around the grip of her luggage. She started walking slowly, slowly, hoping she was mistaken.
Without thinking, Lina dashed through the automatic doors and down a side hallway. Her heart pounded so loud it echoed in her ears. She didn’t look back. She couldn’t.
They saw . They know who I am.
Panic fueled her legs as she slipped into a service corridor ant for staff. No guards. No caras—at least none that imdiately blinked to life or followed her.
She tore off her sunglasses and mask, shoving them into her bag as she ducked past a pair of janitorial carts. Her breaths ca shallow, her mind racing.
Door after door. Left turn. Right. A stairwell. Then another hallway, and a narrow ramp. Every instinct scread at her to keep moving.
Sowhere behind her, she heard heavy footsteps and the bark of a radio. Her blood turned to ice.
They were searching. She didn’t have ti.
Lina yanked open another door and found herself in a poorly lit, tallic tunnel—an auxiliary access way, used perhaps by maintenance or staff to reach other parts of the airport unnoticed by passengers.
She ran.
Lights passed overhead in bursts of orange and red as she pushed through until a sudden gust of open air hit her face. She froze.
She was outside.
The runway.
Sohow—through sheer panic and aimless movent—she had ended up near the tarmac, just behind a row of parked ground service vehicles and the hum of an idling aircraft not far away.
Lina’s eyes scanned her surroundings. A plane was being prepped for takeoff—small, maybe private or corporate. The back stairs were lowered. The crew wasn’t in sight.
No ti to think.
She sprinted toward it.
Her heels echoed against the concrete as she ran, crouching behind crates and equipnt, weaving between refueling carts and empty cargo trolleys. Her heart rattled against her ribs as adrenaline surged through her limbs.
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