(Evelina’s Room—Still at the study desk—Evelina’s Pov)
"...Which monster first?"
The silence pressed back like it was judging . The numbers on my page stared back like tiny, glowing landmines.
I leaned back and tapped my pen against the notebook.
"Wait," I muttered. "Before I pick allies... I need to rember the ga routes."
Because this world wasn’t just random nobility and pretty faces.
It had main leads: Golden boys wrapped in plot armor and dangerously attractive red flags. Each with their own romance route, CGs, death endings, and shiny Final Boss flags.
I pulled another sheet of paper toward and began writing nas.
1. Kael Valtore
The main lead. The "canon husband" of Sera in every route.
Black hair. Crimson eyes. A heart colder than the Valtore estate’s wine cellar. I used him in every route to kill Evelina (now ). CEO of Valtore Group. Sharp, controlled, terrifyingly rational.
And he hates Evelina for "bullying his precious Sera."
In short: For the heroine, he’s a wholeso green flag. For , he’s an industrial-grade guillotine.
I drew a skull beside his na.
Cross.
2. Arden Hartgrave
Evelina’s older brother. Also Sera’s new stepbrother.
Black hair, blue eyes, and a hot temper with legs. Never hesitated to slap Evelina in the ga. Always defended Sera publicly. Eventually fell for her too.
Cute.
...For Sera.
For Evelina? Imdiate obituary.
Cross.
3. Lucien Hartgrave
Second brother. Third male lead.
Spoiled brat energy. Would rather die than admit feelings. Killed Evelina once in the garden for "tainting the family na." Other than that, he didn’t show much effort in hating her, which is... sohow worse.
He’d just glare like I was a stain on marble flooring.
Conclusion: No hope here either.
Cross.
4. Theo Vinter
Silver hair. Warm golden eyes. Looks like a church angel. Has the morals of a feral raccoon. Overprotective. Dangerous.
...and Mafia heir.
He beca obsessed with Sera because she helped a stray cat once—ONE cat—and since then followed her like a golden retriever with a motorcycle and guns.
In Simple Mode, I once used him to kill Evelina just to boost Sera’s purity points.
He treats people like flies. Information after that is fuzzy because I was too busy marrying Sera to Kael.
In short: A walking death flag with a loyalty kink.
Cross. Twice.
5. Rowan Arcturus
Personal bodyguard assigned to Sera by Arden. Blonde hair, steel-gray eyes. Quiet honor. Polite smiles.
Basically a whole green garden—for Sera.
For Evelina?
One glare. One sarcastic comnt.
Bang—accidental discharge, tragic headline: "Villainess shot for existing incorrectly."
In short: Officer Safety Hazard.
Cross.
. . .
. . .
I stared at the page filled with nas brutally slashed through. "...I don’t have a single safe route."
Silence.
Then—
SLAM.
I thumped my forehead onto the desk, papers fluttering dramatically.
"Why is this ga THIS hard?!" I hissed into the wood grain. "Why didn’t I get reincarnated as, I don’t know, background shrub #3?!"
I dragged my hands down my face.
"Why am I in Hard Mode? Why is everyone gorgeous and homicidal? Why did Past play dating sims like a psychopath?!"
My voice cracked into a whisper: "...Why did I co here?"
The system didn’t answer.
My brain... stopped working for a solid thirty seconds as I remained slumped over the desk like a dying houseplant.
Then—
"...Wait."
My head lifted slowly, dramatically, like a horror movie puppet realizing the plot twist. "If I can’t win the male leads... then what about side characters?"
My fingers drumd on the wood. Eyes narrowing.
"Like... Reginald Hartgrave. Evelina’s father."
I sat up straighter.
Yes, Father.
He might not be a main lead, but in this world, affection isn’t romantic. It’s protection.
I grabbed my pen again, scribbling fast.
Reginald Hartgrave — Elite industrial tycoon. Richest man in Aurelis City. Founder of Hartgrave Holdings. Controls trade, stocks, and corporate alliances.
This man could cancel scandals with a blink.
Buy newspapers.
Buy courts.
Buy politicians.
His affection being at 30% wasn’t love... It was a bargaining chip.
"If I can get him to least 50%," I muttered, tapping my pen like a war drum, "he becos a human shield against everything. Rumors. Poison. Paparazzi. Even the male leads can’t casually off if Father’s influence is behind ."
I circled his na aggressively.
Target #1: Reginald Hartgrave.
"Side characters sotis have more raw power than romantic leads," I whispered. "Especially DAD-tagonists."
And because he’s not a main route?
There’s no jealousy ter from Sera. No coded love triangle sabotage. No romantic flags to trigger obsession.
He’s purely political.
Perfect.
My pen scratched over the page in bold, confident strokes: Goal: Turn Father into a dotted-line father figure.
Not emotionally. Strategically. Cold. Efficient. Survival. But the mont the ink dried, my brain tugged on the brakes.
"...But that doesn’t an he’s safe."
Affection can rise. Affection can fall. And in this world?
Affection dropping = opportunities for knives.
I rested the pen against my lips, thinking. If Father’s affection ever dips below 20%... He can disown Evelina. Cut her from the inheritance. Remove personal security. Allow legal attack dogs to feast
"I cannot let him slip," I murmured. "Not even accidentally."
My hand shook—just a little—and I squeezed the pen tighter.
I inhaled once.
Slow.
Controlled.
Then wrote underneath: Risk: High if ignored.
My chest tightened. To survive, Father’s affection rate couldn’t stay stable. It had to grow. Steady.
Consistent. Unbreakable.
Because if the world turned against —and it would—only Father’s influence could buy silence.
"Okay," I whispered to my notebook, like it could hear . "Step one—earn Father. Step two—keep earning. No slips."
My voice dropped to sothing raw: "I’m not dying again."
I didn’t co here to perish in so marble hallway while violins played. I didn’t reincarnate to beco a sobbing speed bump in soone else’s love story.
I’m going ho.
Back to my tiny apartnt. Back to convenience-store noodles. Back to my crashing Wi-Fi. Back to my boring, safe, painfully ordinary life.
My fingers curled into fists.
"I’m going to survive," I said again—quieter, sharper. "And return to my own world. Without fail, this ti."
It wasn’t just determination. It was a promise carved into bone.
My fingers curled around the notebook’s edge, knuckles pale. For the first ti since waking up in this silk-infested nightmare, I felt sothing dangerous bloom beneath my ribs:
Control.
Not happiness.
Not hope.
Control.
Knock, knock.
My head turned toward the door slowly.
"Miss?" A maid’s voice filtered through the wood—polite, cautious. "Master has asked you to join for lunch."
Lunch?
My brows lifted. A strange, dislocated beat echoed in my chest.
Evelina never joined lunch. Not after that incident— Not after they accused her of hiring thugs to harass Sera. Not after they slapped her and called her a monster. Not after her reputation rotted like fruit in the sun.
She was isolated. She starved herself quietly. She hid. Lunch was a battlefield she abandoned long ago.
But now?
Now lunch was a stage. And I needed an audience. My hand drifted toward the notebook again, fingers brushing over the words:
Goal: Turn Father into a dotted-line father figure.Strategically.
My lips pressed into a thin, decisive line.
"I see," I called back, voice calm. "Tell Father I’m coming."
A pause. The maid exhaled in visible relief.
"Yes, Miss. Right away."
I listened to her footsteps fade down the hallway—soft, respectful, careful. Like she was relieved I agreed. The room fell silent again. I stared at the closed door.
Lunch wasn’t food today.
Lunch was affection points waiting to be earned.
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