(Evelina’s POV — Valtore Mansion—continuation)
[Tir: 02:58]
The glowing numbers hovered at the corner of my vision, ticking down like a guillotine blade. Two minutes and fifty-eight seconds—before I obeyed, or before I didn’t.
[Instruction: Pour red wine on the heroine’s face.]
The command pulsed, innocent and rciless.
I stood at the edge of the grand Valtore ballroom, staring into a crowd that felt less like guests and more like a jury. Crystal chandeliers spilled gold over polished marble. Laughter moved in practiced circles. Caras blinked like hungry insects.
Everyone sparkled—except .
Beneath the central chandelier stood the two people the ga always centered on.
Kael Valtore—the heir, the golden son, the man who ended Evelina Hartgrave in every tiline—looked unreal in black and silver. His red eyes caught the light and drew it in, like a blade that devoured warmth.
Beside him, Sera Loraine—the heroine—shone. Pink hair, gentle, wide eyes, and a smile so pure it made people pucker into pity. The room loved her. The plot adored her. And the system wanted to humiliate her.
[Tir: 02:41]
The seconds bled away. My pulse matched the orchestra’s hush. I rembered, in painful HD, how this scene unfolded in the ga: one glass, one spill, one scandal, then everything—engagent, dignity, life—gone.
Of course the system picked this scene.
Nas floated through the ballroom—a polite tide of recognition.
"Ah, Mr. Aiden Hartgrave! It’s been so long."
"Miss Sera—you look radiant as always!"
No one looked at . Why would they? Evelina Hartgrave was the family’s rot, the scandal’s center—a fabric of sha no one wanted to brush.
I leaned against the marble and grabbed a champagne flute from a passing tray. The bubbles hissed, tiny judgnt calls. I took a sip. "Cheers to social exile," I muttered.
[Tir: 02:01]
A reckless thought scraped through my skull:
what if I refused the system? Would it reset ? Drop back into my dingy apartnt with my slow Wi-Fi and noodles? The idea should have made laugh. It didn’t.
People skirted around like I was contagious. Won whispered, n averted their eyes, and waiters walked the other way.
I snorted. "Relax. I only bite if provoked."
Silence. I added, under my breath, "...and even then, I use a straw."
Of course no one can hear .
[Tir: 01:47]
The blue screen quivered. The orchestra bowed and then cut into silence as Viktor Valtore moved to the grand staircase. His voice, velvet-steel, sliced through the hum. "Thank you all for attending tonight’s Successor Event in honor of my son."
[The Episode has begun. Title: The Marriage Annulnt. Mission: Pour wine on the heroine. Penalty: System Intervention.]
[Tir: 01:06]
The orchestra softened into silence. Every face turned toward the grand staircase where Viktor stood beside his son—Kael Voltare.
Viktor continued, his smile polished like the diamonds glittering around us. "As you know, from this day forward, my son Kael will take full charge of the Voltare Conglorate. But that’s not the only reason we celebrate tonight. Today, I am pleased to announce my son Kael’s engagent to—"
"Wait a minute, Father."
Kael’s voice cut through the air like thunder, low and husky with barely restrained disdain.
A ripple of confusion spread through the guests. I froze, the rim of my glass brushing my lip as I glanced up at the blue screen hovering in front of .
[Tir: 00.59]
Kael’s eyes—crimson and sharp as molten glass—locked onto from across the ballroom. The orchestra had stopped entirely now. All you could hear was the faint fizz of champagne and the whispers crawling along the walls.
"I know what you’re about to announce," he said, his tone deceptively calm. "But let make sothing clear before we proceed."
Every muscle in my body tensed.
He turned to face the crowd, his expression carved in arrogance and ice. "I will never marry a woman who knows nothing but hatred. A woman who treats others like insects under her heel."
His gaze cut through , rciless. "I’d rather marry a duck than a woman who thrives on cruelty."
Gasps erupted like fireworks. The silence that followed was deafening—shocked faces, hands flying to mouths, and fans snapping open like startled wings.
And every single eye turned to .
Did... did that bastard just compare to a duck?
For half a second, my brain short-circuited.
A duck. Not even a swan or a crow for aesthetic points.A duck.
In the ga, this was the mont Evelina’s world collapsed—the humiliation, the laughter, the pitying looks. But standing here now, all I could think was...
I should’ve poured wine on him first.
Still, I forced myself to breathe. Calm down, Evelina. You just need to survive this scene. Survive, then wake up back in your crappy condo with your broken AC and expired noodles.
I could almost sll ho.
That hope was enough to make my trembling fingers pause when the blue screen flickered before my eyes again.
[System: Are you ready to pour wine on the heroine?] [Yes] [No]
My pulse pounded in my ears. If I clicked Yes, I’d move automatically—possessed—toward Sera and dump red humiliation over her perfect face.
But if I clicked No... maybe I’d break the loop. Maybe I’d glitch out, crash the system, and go ho.
So I did it.
TRING!
I clicked No.
And for a heartbeat, nothing happened. Silence stretched. No alarms. No warnings. No orchestral sting.
Just stillness.
Huh...? Did it—did it work?
Then...
DING!
The sound cut through the ballroom like a blade of ice.
[System: You failed to play the Villainess.][System: Penalty Engaged.]
And then...
COUGH.
The sound ripped out of , raw and wet.
COUGH! COUGH!!
Sothing hot splattered across my glove. Crimson.
"What..." I gasped, fingers trembling as I stared at the blood staining the champagne glass. "What—why am I—"
The crowd froze. Gasps fluttered through the air like startled birds.
"She’s coughing blood!" soone whispered.
My knees buckled. The world blurred at the edges—music, chandeliers, and faces all saring into streaks of light.
My lungs burned. I could taste iron.
Across the room, the Hartgraves—my so-called family—stared in horror. Even Kael’s expression cracked, his cold mask shattering into sothing sharp and alard.
And then the blue screen bled across my vision, glitching, words twisting like veins across the air:
[System: You are receiving penalty.][System: You will die in both worlds.]
My eyes widened. Both... worlds? What...does...?
COUGH! COUGH!
Don’t tell .... I...will...
The champagne flute slipped from my fingers, shattering against the marble.
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