Seven years after someone else took over my body, I was finally back. The System mistook me for a Player and tasked me with capturing the heart of my first love from when I was eighteen. Only then did I learn that my first love was the great Villain of this world. But the first time I saw him again, he nearly choked the life out of me. As I huddled on the floor, coughing until my lungs burned, a series of comments flickered into view before my eyes. “This woman’s body has been a revolving door. The last Player got so scared she just gave up on the mission. Wonder how long this one will last…” “Tsk, even if the Villain’s one true love came back to do this mission, it’d be a tough one.” “This new Player doesn’t seem to have any defensive items. You think she’ll be dead by day one?” 1 When the System’s voice echoed in my head, I thought I was dreaming. A second later, it tutted and sent a jolt of electricity through me. I snapped back to reality, sitting up on a bed in a room I didn’t recognize. [System: Host, your mission is to capture the Villain, Kevin Whitfield. Upon completion, the System will grant you one wish.] A familiar name caught my attention. I asked the System, confused, “Kevin Whitfield? He’s the Villain?” [System: Correct. Kevin Whitfield is this body’s legal husband.] [System: You have a natural advantage, Host. Seize the opportunity.] With a final click, it went offline. I was even more bewildered. Wasn’t Kevin my first love? We had broken up amicably when I had to study abroad. Why was I married to him? And what was all this about a mission? A Villain? Hadn’t I just dozed off for a bit because I was exhausted from working overtime? I forced myself to calm down and decided to find Kevin. But the Kevin of today was clearly not the boy I remembered. The moment he spotted me from a distance, several bodyguards grabbed me, forced me into a car, and sent me back to the villa. The simmering anger from waking up seven years in the future with no explanation finally ignited. An uncontrollable wave of sorrow washed over me. Overwhelmed, I grabbed my purse and headed straight for a bar. The liquor had barely hit the glass when the club’s pulsing music screeched to a halt. A group of tall, imposing men in black suits marched toward my table in perfect formation. Before I could react, a familiar figure strode into view. For a split second, my heart felt like it had been struck by a hammer. The ache was so sharp it almost brought me to tears. But the next second, a pair of strong hands closed viciously around my neck. My breath caught. I clawed at his hands, the pain sharp and suffocating. Kevin looked at me as if I were already dead. “Did I not tell you,” he said, his voice a low snarl, “that you are not allowed to cause trouble.” I stared at him, my mind a blur of pain and confusion. His gaze flickered with something unreadable for a moment, then was immediately replaced by ice. He slowly released his grip, letting out a long sigh. “Ah,” he murmured, almost to himself. “So, a new one has arrived.” I clutched my throat, curling up on the floor as wracking coughs tore through me. Suddenly, a live feed of scrolling comments appeared before my eyes. “The Villain is losing it again. I feel like he’s one bad day away from ending the world.” “This Eva Reed’s body has been run through like a sieve for seven years, right?” “What number is this? The tenth Player? The hundredth?” “Tsk, a newbie. Almost got choked out on her first day. Kinda pathetic.” “I bet this one lasts a month, tops. Lol, the last one only made it two weeks before she ran screaming.” I stared blankly at the comments, unable to process what I was seeing. So, for the past seven years, someone had been using my body, had married Kevin in my place. And there hadn't been just one. There had been hundreds of them. All to "capture" the so-called Villain, Kevin Whitfield. 2 A hand gripped my chin, forcing my head up. Kevin was kneeling on the floor, examining the marks on my neck. I stared at his face, which had changed so much. A lump formed in my throat. Seven years. He really had changed. The warmth in his eyes was gone, replaced by a deep, shadowy coldness. The corners of his mouth were turned down in a permanent, emotionless line. He radiated an aura of ruthless severity. But underneath it all, I saw something else. He looked like a bowstring pulled taut to its absolute limit. He was exhausted. I took a shaky breath and reached out, my hand closing over his pale, thin one. “Kevin,” I whispered. “It’s me. Eva.” “I’m back.” His hand froze. His dark, depthless eyes stared right through me. My heart hammered against my ribs under his intense scrutiny, but I forced myself to continue. “It’s really me, Eva Reed.” The air grew thick with tension. After a long pause, I tried again. “Do you remember when we were seven, and I headbutted you so hard I knocked out your tooth?” “You were so afraid my parents would yell at me that you told everyone you tripped and fell.” Kevin’s expression didn’t change. My hope faltered. I took another breath. “Then what about the day you confessed to me? We hugged and cried so hard we both passed out from lack of oxygen. We were so embarrassed afterward that we told everyone we had heatstroke.” Still nothing. My breathing hitched into a sob. I pleaded with him, my voice breaking. “Kevin…” “Hah!” A sharp, mocking laugh cut through the air. I snapped my head up to see Kevin rising to his feet. He looked down at me, his gaze cold and condescending. “Is this the only trick you people have?” “I’m sick of watching this act, even if you’re not sick of performing it.” I froze. The comments on the feed scrolled by in a frenzy. “LMAO, I’m dead. Every single Player tries to play the memory card.” “The Villain has a point. Hearing the same stories a hundred times would get old.” “The System must be out of ideas if it’s still telling Players to use the original’s memories.” “Did it forget what happened to the last one who tried this? That was brutal.” “Annnnd she’s done. This one won’t even last a week.” I stared at the feed, speechless. But contrary to the feed’s predictions of how Kevin would torture me, he simply gestured to his bodyguards. “Take her home.” The feed exploded. The comments were a solid wall of shock. “Huh????” “No way, does this one actually have a chance?” “Impossible. The Villain must have some new, twisted form of torment planned.” I slumped to the floor, my energy gone, and watched his retreating back, feeling lost. He didn’t believe me. And I had no way to prove that I was me. This felt like an impossible game. I was kept in the villa, well-fed and cared for. But there were rules. A lot of them. No drinking. No staying up late. No doing anything that could possibly harm my body. I tried calling my old friends, dialing their numbers from memory. Without exception, they all acted like I was the plague. Like I was some kind of monster. In the end, I sat on the couch, phone in hand, watching the feed mock me. “The body has a reputation for being schizophrenic. Who wouldn’t be scared?” “Blame the one Host who had a total breakdown and tried to blow up the Villain’s company, taking him with her.” “Sigh, this Host is really out of options.” “Wait, why isn’t she using any items?” “If she used an item, she could at least put up a fight before she dies lmao.” Items? 3 I patted myself down. Nothing. I tried calling for the System in my head. It was as dead as a doornail. No response. I gritted my teeth in frustration. What kind of screwed-up System was this? It mistakes me for a Player but doesn’t even give me a single tool to work with. I was a prisoner, with no way to see Kevin. But I still had to find a way to complete this mission. Because I was terrified that if I failed, the System would just send someone else to take over my body again. After some thought, I headed to the kitchen and started messing with the oven. I was a disaster in the kitchen. Everything I touched turned to charcoal. But for some reason, I could make amazing cookies. And Kevin had a massive sweet tooth. Whenever I used to bake, he’d hoard the bag of cookies like a little hamster, a look of pure bliss on his face. I kneaded the dough, pouting as the feed started scrolling again. “Not many Players think of baking cookies.” “Yeah, but one did before. The Villain actually ate them.” “I remember that! He cried that day, didn’t he?” I let out a soft snort, but my eyes began to sting. Even my most precious memories with Kevin were now tainted with the shadows of others. Our shared past had been twisted into daggers that had stabbed him again and again. And now, one of those daggers had found its way into me. The pain was so sharp it made my breathing tremble. I spent the entire afternoon in the kitchen. The sweet, buttery scent of cookies soon filled the whole house. I carefully pulled the tray out of the oven. As I turned, I found myself face-to-face with a figure standing in the doorway. For a moment, I was lost in a memory. It was a sun-drenched afternoon from long ago. I was pulling cookies from the oven, and Kevin was leaning against the doorframe, a gentle smile on his face as he watched me. He would have clapped dramatically, proudly declaring me the best cookie-baker in the world. Then I would have leaped into his arms, demanding my reward with a giggle. Kevin would always blush, a helpless look on his face, but he would obediently take my hand and place it over his heart before leaning in to gently kiss the cookie crumbs from the corner of my lips. A hand reached past me and plucked a cookie from the cooling rack. I snapped back to the present, blinking away the moisture in my eyes, and watched Kevin without moving. He stared at the cookie in his hand, his face blank. After a long moment, he put it in his mouth and took a bite. I took a deep breath, my voice shaking as I spoke. “Kevin, you ate my cookie. Where’s my reward?” His head was bowed, hiding his expression. I couldn’t stop myself. I took a few steps closer. But Kevin recoiled as if he’d seen a ghost, stumbling back several feet. I froze. The sweet-smelling air in the kitchen turned heavy and silent once more. A wave of despair washed over me. He still didn’t believe me. I had told myself over and over that it was normal. He had been tricked so many times. But in this moment, the reality of it sent tears streaming down my face. Frustration and hopelessness consumed me. “Kevin,” I sobbed. “I’m Eva.” “You liar. You promised you’d recognize me even if I turned into a bug.” He stood there, head down, half a cookie still in his mouth. He looked, impossibly, even more pitiful than I felt. I wiped my tears, my voice choked with sobs. “I don’t care. You can’t just lock me up like this.” “You ate my cookie. I want my reward.” I don’t know how long passed before Kevin’s hoarse voice finally broke the silence. “What do you want?” I stilled, looking up at him. 4 Kevin didn’t look at me. His eyes were hidden behind the fringe of his dark hair. He looked so lonely, so fragile. The sight made my nose burn. But his words gave me a flicker of hope. I rallied my spirits. “I remember our high school’s homecoming is coming up.” “They invite alumni back every year. I’m sure this year is no different.” “I want to go.” I expected him to refuse outright, but after a long silence, he agreed. I was stunned. But apparently, the feed was even more stunned than I was. The few scattered comments exploded the instant Kevin nodded. “What’s happening? WHAT IS HAPPENING?” “What kind of magic was in that cookie?” “Last time he cried, this time he’s agreeing to take her to homecoming.” “Something’s not right. This is definitely not right.” “I know! He’s trying to trigger her, just like last time! He’s going to have her committed to the psych ward to scare her to death!” The psych ward? My expression hardened. I swallowed nervously. On the day of the homecoming, I had dark circles under my eyes. Kevin shot me a few gloomy looks. I carefully scooted a little farther away from him in the car, terrified he’d ship me off to a mental hospital at the slightest provocation. For some reason, this seemed to make his expression even darker. Even after we got out of the car, he still seemed dazed. I stared at the school in front of me, my eyes burning. Seven years. It was such a long time. Even the main gate of my high school looked completely different from my memories. Everything had changed. Kevin’s cool voice sounded beside me. “Let’s go in.” I nodded numbly, turning my head to quickly wipe away a tear. As he walked past, I could have sworn his voice, as it brushed past my ear, was trembling with restraint. The homecoming was as lively as ever. I saw a lot of familiar faces. But without exception, they all looked at me with strange, wary eyes. I awkwardly tried to hide behind Kevin. I’d almost forgotten. I was still a schizophrenic in their eyes. I sighed, a fresh wave of disappointment washing over me. Suddenly, Kevin shifted, exposing me. “Eva,” he said, his voice strained and rough, as if he wasn't used to saying my name. “Say hello to your teacher.” I glanced at him. His head was bowed, lost in thought. But I didn’t have time to wonder about it. My old homeroom teacher was standing before me, her arms open wide with a smile. I let out a small cry and threw myself into her embrace, sobbing until my head felt dizzy. She stroked my hair gently, just like she used to. “Oh, my sweet Eva, what’s wrong now?” I was so choked up I couldn’t form a single word. There was so much I wanted to say. I wanted to tell her I had somehow time-traveled seven years into the future and was now being forced to win over Kevin. I wanted to tell her that Kevin was a big liar who refused to believe I was really me. I wanted to tell her how my perfectly normal life had been thrown into chaos. But the words were stuck in my throat, a painful lump I couldn't swallow or spit out. In the end, all I could do was wipe my tears and tell her I was fine. A handkerchief was offered to me. I stared at Kevin. He was holding the cloth, his face pale. But his dark eyes were locked on mine. My heart fluttered nervously. “Kevin…” He pressed the handkerchief into my hand. For a fleeting moment, it looked like he smiled, but then his face was blank again. He turned and walked away quickly. I clutched the handkerchief and watched him go. My teacher put an arm around my shoulders. “Are you and that boy having trouble?” she asked softly. I shook my head instinctively. She sighed. “Last winter, Kevin climbed over the school wall in the middle of the night. He slept in the little garden all night long.” “If security hadn’t found him and taken him to the hospital, he might have…” The tears I had just managed to stop started flowing again. “Ma’am, I… I have to go check on him.” I gathered my skirt and ran in the direction he had gone. The direction of the little garden. The school garden was where Kevin and I used to spend all our time. When we graduated, we had childishly buried a time capsule there. We promised we would open it together in ten years. But now, ten years had long since passed. Kevin was in the garden, just as I’d suspected. He was hunched over slightly, a sight that made my heart ache. I took a deep breath, about to walk over to him. But another figure beat me to it.
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