[Evlina’s Pov—Hospital Room—The Next Day]
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
The sound dragged out of the dark like a hook through flesh.
My throat burned, my chest felt tight, and my body was heavy. The faint sll of antiseptic and tal told exactly where I was before I even opened my eyes.
Hospital.
So... I’m not dead. Not yet.
I pried my eyes open, blinking at the sterile white ceiling above . The light stung. My body trembled as I turned my head slightly to the side—there were IV tubes in my arm, a monitor by my bed, and flowers by the window, their colors too bright, too cheerful for the way I felt.
And then—
[System: Lifeline consud.]
[Remaining chances: 0]
[Penalty suspended.]
The blue screen flickered faintly before dissolving into the air.
Suspended. Not removed. aning—next ti, there won’t be a warning.
My fingers clenched around the thin bedsheet. My pulse quickened.
The "ga" wasn’t over.
"...Miss Evelina?"
A soft, cautious voice—A Hospital Nurse. She peeked in, eyes wide. "Miss Hartgrave, you’re awake."
Her words traveled like echoes down a tunnel. My lips parted, but my voice ca out cracked. "How... long?"
"Two days," she whispered. "You’ve been unconscious for two days. Your family... they were—"
I didn’t need her to finish. The door swung open with a rush of air, and I heard the sound of shoes against tile.
"Evelina!"
My father’s voice—no—Reginald Hartgrave. Deep, heavy, trembling with sothing between fury and fear.
Behind him—Arden and Lucien. Both looked exhausted, eyes bloodshot.
For a second, I saw sothing I’d never seen before on their faces. Not disdain. Not irritation. Just... panic.
Reginald Hartgrave took a step forward, his composure cracking. "My daughter... thank God... we were so worried."
I stared at him. At all of them. At the man who, in her mories, said nothing while his wife called her a monster.
"Really?" The word slipped out of , fragile and sharp.
He blinked, confused. "What?"
I swallowed, forcing my throat to work. "You were... really worried?"
Silence. Not one of them could answer.
Arden’s jaw tightened. Lucien’s gaze dropped to the floor. Reginald opened his mouth, but nothing ca out.
A hollow laugh almost escaped , but all I managed was a shaky breath. I turned my head toward the window. Outside, the morning sun poured over the glass, bright and indifferent. Birds were chirping—soft, distant.
How ironic. The world still had the audacity to look peaceful.
"Of course we were worried—" Lucein spoke.
"You’re..." My voice faltered. "...late."
Lucein frowned. "What did you say?"
I didn’t look at him when I spoke again. "You’re all... too late."
The silence that followed was suffocating. I could feel their guilt, their confusion, and their fear—but it didn’t matter anymore.
Because the truth was simple. They could only love when Evelina was dying.
The nurse’s voice broke through the heavy air, timid but firm. "Mr. Hartgrave... please. The patient needs rest."
For a mont, no one moved. Then Reginald finally nodded, his hand trembling slightly as he brushed it against mine—but I pulled away before he could touch .
His face went pale.
They turned to leave. The sound of their footsteps faded one by one, but at the door, Arden hesitated. He looked back, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please... inform us if she needs anything."
The door clicked shut behind them.
And I was alone again. The heart monitor beeped softly beside . Steady. Mocking. Alive.
But inside... it felt like I’d already flatlined.
The quiet pressed against , heavy and unkind. I stared at the ceiling, tracing the cracks that weren’t there, pretending they could swallow whole. My chest felt hollow—like sothing vital had been scooped out and forgotten sowhere in that darkness I’d fallen through.
That’s when it hit .
Evelina’s heart wasn’t cold—it was empty.
I could feel it now, bleeding through my veins, pulsing inside my own chest like a ghost heartbeat. And in that emptiness, I realized sothing terrifying.
What’s the difference between her and ?
I was an orphan—discarded before I could even rember a face. Thrown away by a mother who never wanted .
And Evelina... was abandoned while surrounded by the very people who were supposed to love her.
Maybe that’s worse.
At least I never expected love. She did.
I used to think Sera was pitiful—the poor heroine everyone sympathized with, the one who had to endure hardship before finding her happy ending. But sitting here, in Evelina’s body, with her tears still burning at the back of my eyes... I finally understood.
Sera wasn’t the only victim of this story.
Evelina was the broken one—the villainess the world had already decided wasn’t worth saving. And maybe... that’s why I beca her.
Not as a reward. Not as fate. But as punishnt.
For choosing the heroine. For pitying the wrong girl. For never realizing that villains don’t start out cruel—they’re made that way.
I closed my eyes, and the soft hum of the machines filled the room again.
"...I guess it is," I whispered to no one.
A punishnt.
For both of us.
"You’re very lucky, Miss Hartgrave," the nurse said softly as she poured water into a glass. Her voice was kind—too kind. "Your family really loves you."
I turned my head slowly, the faintest trace of a smile curling on my lips. "Really?"
She nodded, oblivious to the bitterness in my tone. "Of course. They’ve been here since the day you ca here—barely slept. Especially your fiancé."
My fingers froze around the glass. "...Fiancée?"
The nurse’s eyes brightened, eager to share good news that wasn’t good at all.
"Yes! Mr. Kael Valtore. He called in every specialist from the capital and insisted on running every test twice. Even threatened to shut down the entire hospital wing until you were stable." She laughed lightly, unaware of the heaviness that settled over . "Your father and brothers, too—they contacted the police bureau and swore they wouldn’t rest until they found who poisoned you."
I blinked. Once. Twice.
It sounded like a fairytale of concern, painted with care and desperation. But I knew better.
Maybe she’s exaggerating. Maybe half of it’s a lie. Or maybe it’s worse—maybe it’s true, and now they care only because guilt looks better when soone’s watching.
Either way, it doesn’t matter.
I lifted the glass, took a sip, and stared at the pale reflection of my face rippling on the surface. "That’s nice," I murmured, voice flat. "Really nice."
The nurse hesitated, sensing sothing off, but forced a polite smile. "Would you like sothing else, Miss Hartgrave? Sothing cool, maybe?"
"Yes," I said quietly. "Sothing cold would be nice."
She nodded. "I’ll check with the doctor first to make sure it’s permitted."
"Of course," I replied, watching her leave.
The door closed behind her, and silence returned—heavy and absolute.
I exhaled softly, letting the glass tilt just enough for a droplet to spill onto my palm. The cold stung my skin. It was almost... comforting.
But the quiet didn’t last long.
A soft click—the door opening. The faint echo of expensive shoes on marble. I didn’t bother looking up at first. I thought it was the nurse again.
Until the air shifted.
Cold. Heavy. Like the temperature dropped ten degrees without warning.
"I see... you’re still alive."
That voice.
My fingers froze around the glass. Slowly, I turned.
Kael Valtore stood by the door, his expression carved from stone. Tall, precise—every inch of him tailored and controlled. Only his eyes betrayed him: sharp, Red, and far too familiar. The kind of gaze that didn’t just look at you—it dissected you.
He wasn’t dressed like soone visiting a hospital. No. He looked like he’d stepped straight out of a boardroom and into a battlefield.
And for so reason, I felt like I was the war he never wanted to fight.
I just looked at him.
Then his lips curled—barely.
"You don’t die easily, do you?" His voice was ice. "Still desperate for attention, even on your deathbed."
This bastard.
Can I kick him out? No—wait, this is a hospital. Damn it.
And then—
Ping.
A faint blue light flickered at the corner of my vision.
[System: Hidden Quest Achieved. You have attracted the Male Lead’s attention. Hard Mode Activated. Do you still want Multiple Choices?] [YES] [NO]
My eyes widened.
What—?
The screen shimred, glitching like it was laughing at .
Hard mode? What the hell does that even an? When did I reached the Hard—
Then realization hit. The system didn’t appear when I talked to the Hartgraves. I’d spoken freely—without dialogue boxes, without being guided.
The last ti it appeared was when I was dying. So... did that an I’d been acting on my own all along?
I stared at the screen, pulse quickening. Then I lifted my trembling finger and pressed [NO].
TRING!
The room humd softly, air bending like static. The screen flashed, lines of code dancing like fireflies before rearranging into new text.
[System: Congratulations. You may now engage with characters freely and act however you wish.]
My breath caught.
... No more pre-written lines? No more forced choices?
A slow, almost dangerous smile curved on my lips.
I never knew there were hidden quests. When I played as Sera, this never appeared. Maybe because she already had everything—love, luck, and the system’s favor.
But ? Evelina—the villainess?
I had to earn my freedom. And now—
My freedom is unlocked.
Outside, the world kept breathing. Inside, I just started to.
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