Victoria Ashford confessed her love to me on the third day of the 'conquest' challenge. But the Affection Meter floating above her head was clearly, definitively, Zero. After we made it official, she elevated me to the sky, showering me with a devotion that felt like an obsession. On our sixth anniversary, she orchestrated a lavish, public proposal. I was nodding, tears blurring my vision, when a block of floating text—a corrupted digital overlay—drifted into my line of sight: [It must be exhausting for the second female lead, pretending to love the cruel sidekick for six years just to protect the male lead!] [LOL, the replacement really got into character!] My blood turned instantly to ice. That's why the number had never moved. At the exact same moment, a cold system alert screamed inside my mind: “Final Phase Initiated. Conquest Countdown: Ten Days.” “Failure will result in your immediate obliteration.” I forced a smile, gently pulling my hand away—the diamond ring still hovering between us—and wiped the tears from my eyes. “I’m sorry, Victoria,” I said. “But I’m tired of playing your game.” 1. The text overlay scrolled relentlessly: [Wait, did the sidekick's eyes just change?] [He should have woken up sooner. The second female lead only has eyes for the male lead.] [Can't wait for him to blacken and go feral—] Feral? No. I was just suddenly remembering the details. The way she insisted I couldn’t see anyone alone, calling it her “fear of me choosing bad company.” The way she always gently cut me off when I mentioned work: “But darling, I just want to be with you every second.” It wasn’t affection. It was a gilded cage. I wandered back to our sprawling, isolated villa, mechanically throwing things into a suitcase. As I passed her study, the digital overlay intensified: [Look at the computer! The second female lead forgot to log out of her chat!] [Oh no, oh no, if he sees the conversation history…] [CRISIS! Male Lead Protection Initiative Activated!] The chime of an incoming message echoed from the study. I pushed the door open. The screen was bright, showing a conversation between Victoria and Jasmine Cole. Victoria’s latest message read: “He suddenly rejected the proposal. Keep Chase safe these next few days. Don’t let Kai near him.” Jasmine’s reply came quickly: “Don’t worry. You’ve sacrificed so much these past six years.” I laughed, a ragged, dry sound. How ridiculous. My existence had unified two women who were supposed to be bitter rivals. I scrolled up. The record was a blunt knife, slowly and methodically slicing through my skin. Jasmine: “I remember the original plot—Kai ruined Chase’s career, maybe even his looks, and hired thugs to rough him up.” “It’s a travesty that you had to share a bed with that psycho for six years.” Victoria: “As long as Chase is safe, it’s worth it.” Jasmine: “He seems to love you more and more. If he ever found out the truth, do you think he’d go even more insane?” Victoria: “He won’t find out.” “And if he does, and if he dares to touch Chase—” “I’ll break his hands and feet and have him locked up in a psychiatric ward for life.” She had added an exclamation point to the last sentence. I stared at the screen, my fingers numb with cold. The overlay was a frenzy: [‘It’s worth it’… Second female lead is obsessed! But with who, I won't say!] [Am I the only one who thinks this is terrifying? Using someone for six years, just to protect their true love?] [It's the cruel sidekick! She's protecting the true love and doing the world a favor. It’s a win-win!] [Look at the sidekick’s expression… Is he about to blacken?] [Sidekick, stop it! Just run!] Run? I looked down at my wrist. Yes. I had to run. The night was thick and dark as I dragged my suitcase out the door. I stood on the curb, suddenly realizing I had nowhere to go. The overlay seemed to panic on my behalf: [Is he really leaving?] [Go! Don’t hold up the second female lead and the male lead’s romance!] [Wait… isn’t that Victoria’s car in the distance?!] Headlights stabbed the darkness, and her familiar black sedan screeched to a halt beside me. Victoria scrambled out, her silk blouse slightly askew, her breathing ragged. Her face held the perfect, heartbreaking blend of panic and sorrow. “Kai, I’m so sorry, I rushed things… I thought you’d be happy.” She reached out to grab me, her eyes wet. “Don’t go, please. We can talk this through. Just tell me what I did wrong.” Once, that performance would have broken me. Now, all I could hear was the chilling echo of the chat log: break his hands and feet and have him locked up. I took a step back, dodging her touch. “It’s not you,” I heard my own voice say, light and distant. “It’s just… I’m bored.” “Bored…?” Her lashes fluttered, as if the word were a foreign language. “You don’t love me anymore?” In the harsh glow of the streetlamp, her eyes were filled with fractured light. Her acting was Oscar-worthy. A new message floated by: [Honestly, not all of her goodness to him was fake, right… This is kind of painful.] That single line clicked something into place. I raised my head, looking straight into her eyes. “Victoria.” “In these six years, was there ever a second… that you genuinely felt happy?” Her pupils contracted, microscopically. She didn't answer. But the overlay exploded: [!!! Did he find out?!] [HOLY SHIT HIGH ALERT—] [Second female lead, what are you waiting for?! Lie!] The wind was brutal. I grabbed my suitcase and turned, vanishing into the night. No footsteps followed. Only the countdown, ticking loudly in my mind: 9 Days 23 Hours 59 Minutes. The game wasn’t over. But the player was done following the rules. 2. I hailed a cab and leaned against the window, my hands trembling. It wasn’t fear. It was exhilaration. Shedding six years of pretense felt like finally gulping air after drowning. The countdown blinked relentlessly: 9 Days 23 Hours 10 Minutes Less than ten days left. All because of someone who would never love me. The absurdity was staggering. “Where to, son?” the driver, an older man with a gray beard, asked, looking at me in the rearview mirror. I gave him the address of a small, unpretentious café down by the river—the place I loved most. Victoria had called it “too noisy, too messy.” She’d forbidden me from going back. The overlay drifted past: [Where is he going? Shouldn’t he be hiding?] [Victoria’s last look was terrifying…] [Am I the only one who thinks he looked incredibly hot just now?] The city lights blurred past the window. For six years, I’d lived in a bubble, seeing only the world Victoria had filtered for me. Now the glass had shattered. The wind rushing in carried the scent of street food, the dampness of the river, and the casual laughter of strangers. It was so real it made me want to weep. The café was just as I remembered. The bell above the door jingled as I walked in. The owner, a kind, middle-aged man, looked up and paused. “Kai? Is that really you?” “Uncle Chen, it’s been a while.” “It is you!” He wiped his hands on a towel and walked out from behind the counter. “It must be five or six years, right? You used to take that window seat, one latte, and write screenplays all afternoon…” I remembered then. Before Victoria, I was a film student, dreaming of winning an Oscar, filling the margins of my scripts with notes. And then? Victoria had said: “Acting is too stressful.” She’d said: “Hollywood is toxic. It’s not for you.” She’d said: “I’m all you need, Kai.” And I had believed her. I gave up the auditions, canceled the contracts, locked my dreams in a drawer, and handed her the key. “The usual?” Uncle Chen asked. “The usual,” I confirmed. I paused. “And add a slice of Tiramisu.” I’d never allowed myself to eat it—Victoria said I “gained weight easily and wouldn’t look good on camera.” But I only had ten days left. Who cared about a camera? The window seat was empty. I sat down, the river breeze cool on my face. The lights of the opposite bank shimmered on the water, a dizzying sheet of moving gold. The moment the first bite of Tiramisu hit my tongue—the sweet cream and the bitter, boozy coffee—I closed my eyes. It was glorious. This was what it felt like to be alive. The overlay was silent for a moment, then a few lines drifted across: [He’s eating so intensely…] [I feel weirdly sorry for him.] [If you only have ten days left, I guess you’d want a good meal.] [Do we actually think Victoria is going to let him be this free? I doubt it.] I doubted it too. So, when my phone vibrated, flashing Victoria Ashford, I wasn’t surprised. I answered without speaking. “Kai, where are you?” “I’ve been worried sick about you.” Her voice held a hint of manufactured exhaustion. “I’m eating.” “Come home, Kai.” Her tone softened, the classic manipulative lull. “We both need to cool down. I promise, I won’t bother you tonight; you can sleep in the guest room. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” I knew that cadence. For six years, whenever I caused a ripple, she used it to gently, patiently, guide me back into the cage. Then everything would reset. “Victoria.” I looked out at the river. “Do you remember my graduation film?” She paused. “Why bring that up now?” “I played a man who was held captive, and in the end, he burned the whole house down, taking himself with it.” I dug my spoon into the cake. “You said my performance was too extreme, that no one in real life would be that foolish.” “Now I understand.” “He wasn’t foolish. The fire was the only thing he had left.” The breathing on the other end of the line deepened. “What exactly are you trying to say?” “I’m trying to say this,” I finished the last bite of Tiramisu. “For the next ten days, I’m living my own life.” “Don’t look for me. Don’t contact me. Don’t threaten my family.” “And after ten days, if I’m still alive…” I smiled. “We can play your game again.” 3. I checked into the most expensive penthouse suite in the city, charging it to the supplementary card Victoria had given me. The overlay was still buzzing: [The Penthouse??? He’s really living it up.] [Using the second female lead’s money for a hotel is legendary.] [He’s got ten days left, let him be extra!] I tossed my suitcase near the door and sank into a rose petal-filled bathtub. The countdown flickered: 8 Days 14 Hours 32 Minutes Eight and a half days. My phone remained eerily silent. Victoria hadn’t called back. That was unlike her. Late that night, I lay in the three-meter-wide bed. The overlay was sparse: [He actually fell asleep? Balls of steel.] [The second female lead is tracking his phone location, I think.] [Seriously, this surveillance dynamic is suffocating.] Just as I was drifting off, a violent slamming sound ripped through the room. I sat up instantly. The overlay exploded: [What was that sound?!] [Someone’s kicking the door in!!!] [Is it Victoria???] [Help! I’m terrified!] Before I could react, the door to the suite was violently kicked open. Victoria stood in the doorway, her eyes blazing with red streaks, radiating a level of pure rage I had never seen. “Kai Jensen.” Her voice was hoarse as she walked, step by slow step, toward the bed. I instinctively clutched the collar of my robe. She stopped in front of me, glaring. “Where is Chase?” I blinked. “What?” “Don’t play dumb.” She suddenly grabbed my wrist, the strength in her grip making my bones ache. “Where did you take him? Tell me!” “I don’t know what you’re talking about—” I tried to pull free, but her hold tightened impossibly. The overlay scrolled madly: [What’s going on? The male lead was kidnapped?] [The sidekick did it? Impossible, he’s been at the hotel.] [The timeline doesn’t add up. When would he have planned a kidnapping?] [Victoria has lost it!] “Victoria, let go!” I gasped, the pain a cold shock. “I haven’t seen Chase Donovan! I’ve been right here for two days—” “Kai, I underestimated you.” “You act heartbroken, then turn around and kidnap Chase? You’re truly vile.” “I didn’t.” I gritted my teeth. She shoved me roughly onto the bed, leaning over me, hands braced on either side of my head. “I’m giving you one last chance. Where is Chase? What did you do to him?” Her breath was hot on my face, carrying a ferocious, almost psychotic intensity. In six years, I had never witnessed this Victoria. The overlay was starting to split: [The second female lead is terrifying…] [But if the sidekick really did kidnap the male lead, he deserves it, right?] [Look closely! The sidekick didn't have time to do this!] [Maybe it’s a misunderstanding?] “I told you, I don’t know.” “Victoria, look at me. Have I lied to you in these six years?” Her pupil’s flickered. There was a moment of hesitation. “The location where Chase’s phone tracking disappeared,” she leaned in, her eyes like poisoned daggers, “was the vicinity of the café you went to.” My blood ran cold. A trap. Someone had set a trap. “It wasn’t me, I didn’t—” My voice was starting to shake. “Enough!” She abruptly stood up, pulling a small, folding knife from her pocket. Victoria grabbed my hand and pressed the blade against my wrist. “Kai,” her voice was a chilling whisper. “I know you hate Chase, that you hate him for ‘taking’ me. Even though I was never yours to begin with. But you cannot touch him.” “I’m asking you one last time! Where is Chase?” The blade bit into the skin of my wrist. A warm, immediate river of blood spilled out. The excruciating pain shot through my body. My vision tunneled. I thought I might pass out. The overlay went wild: [The second female lead is completely unhinged!] [I’m starting to pity the sidekick… he genuinely looks lost.] [Say something! Lie to her if you have to!] I opened my mouth, a broken gasp escaping my throat: “I… didn’t…” 4. The crimson blood stained the pristine white sheets. Victoria’s hand was an iron vise, clamped tight around my wrist. The blade was embedded in my flesh; every heartbeat brought a fresh, tearing wave of pain. “Last chance,” her voice sounded miles away. “Where is Chase?” I tried to speak, but no sound came out. My vision blurred. I could only make out her tightly controlled jaw and the near-feral crimson in her eyes. The overlay flooded the air: [He’s going to die…] [Victoria let go! He’s really going to die!] [Can someone call the police?! This is attempted murder!] [System! Why isn’t the system doing anything about this level of physical harm?!] The system remained utterly silent. Right. In a conquest game, the sidekick’s life was never a priority. I was just an NPC, a stepping stone for the protagonists’ love, a villainous backdrop to showcase the hero’s virtue. But I could feel the pain. It was horrifically real. “You won’t talk?” Victoria’s grip pressed the blade another fraction deeper. I heard the thin slish of skin parting, followed by a warmer, faster gush. Black spots started to dance in my vision, like static on an old TV. Just as I believed this was how I would die— Victoria’s phone rang. The moment she saw the caller ID, her pupils shrank. She answered instantly: “Chase?” A man’s broken, shaky voice came through the speaker: “Victoria… I, I got away…” “They’re at the abandoned factory on the West Side… they all ran…” “…I’m so scared…” “Don’t be scared! I’m coming now!” Victoria’s voice instantly transformed. The harshness vanished, replaced by a tenderness, a near-trembling devotion I had never been the recipient of. “Are you hurt? Find a safe place and hide.” She didn’t even hang up. She dropped my wrist and sprinted toward the door. The blade was dragged across my skin as her hand left, sending another jolt of pure agony through me. I slumped onto the bed, watching her figure disappear into the hallway. The overlay was silent for a moment, then erupted: [She just left?!] [The sidekick’s wrist is still pouring blood!] [She could at least call an ambulance?!] [Is this her ‘love’? Hurting someone without hesitation for the male lead?] [How could I ever have thought she was sincere…] I struggled to raise my uninjured hand, reaching for the phone on the nightstand. My fingers shook, centimeters from the device, yet it felt like a thousand miles away. More and more blood pooled on the sheets, the deep crimson spreading across the white linen. I bit down on my jaw, using the last of my strength to inch forward— My fingertips finally brushed the edge of the phone. The overlay was frantic: [Keep going! You got it!] [Call 911! Hurry!] [Don’t pass out! Hold on!] I unlocked the screen, but my vision was too blurry to make out the numbers. I fumbled for the keys, pressing 9, 1, 1, then the call button. I heard the dial tone. One ring. Two rings. My breathing grew shallow. The black spots consumed my sight. “Hello, 911 Emergency…” I opened my mouth, trying to speak, but only a wet, choked sound came out. “Hello? Can you hear me? What is your emergency?” I tried to tell them I was in the hotel, bleeding, dying. But my throat was choked, unable to form words. “Hello? Hello?” The voice on the line faded away. The phone slipped from my grasp, hitting the carpet with a dull thud. The overlay was in chaos: [NOOO!!!] [Someone save him!!!] [Where are the hotel staff?! Didn’t anyone hear the noise?!] [Victoria, you BITCH!!!] My consciousness began to fracture. In the haze, I felt like I was floating, looking down at my pale, curled-up body in the spreading pool of blood. Then I saw the overlay messages again. [Victoria met up with Chase.] [Chase is hugging her.] [She's comforting him, saying 'It's okay, it's all over.'] [Chase just kissed her.] […They are kissing.] [While the sidekick is lying here bleeding out.] The overlay paused for a few seconds. Then the tone shifted: [I suddenly feel… sick.] [What did the sidekick do wrong? He just loved the wrong person.] [He was genuinely dedicated for six years.] [How dare Victoria do this to him?] [If the sidekick dies, she's a murderer.] [I want to see her regret this.] [I want to see her on her knees begging for his forgiveness.] [But he might not make it.] [Can someone go to that hotel and save him? I can’t watch this anymore.] The countdown was still lit, faintly blinking: 8 Days 9 Hours 01 Minute The game wasn’t over. But the player seemed to be making an early exit.
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