Immediately after my rebirth, I signed the contract to livestream eating Carolina Reapers on the Mexican border. In my past life, my husband’s childhood friend, Chloe, used a supernatural sensory-swap system to force her taste buds onto mine. She deliberately ate raw aloe skins and drank pure wormwood extract on her daily livestreams to build a "resilient, struggling-girl-next-door" persona. Meanwhile, back home, I would be drinking warm honey water but experiencing a bitterness so intense it caused stomach spasms and made me throw up blood. I begged her to stop, but Chloe just looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. "Amelia, I know you want Ethan’s attention, but you don't have to fake it so dramatically!" Ethan’s voice back then had been filled with utter disgust. "You’re too spoiled, Amelia. You sit at home all day doing nothing, yet you can't stand to see Chloe working so hard to pay off her debts." Chloe’s "bitter detox" streams went viral for a month, and the internet crowned her the most inspirational girl of the year. Meanwhile, I died in our bedroom of a ruptured gallbladder, literally starved and bitter to death. My body wasn’t even found until weeks later. Since you love sharing tastes so much, Chloe, let’s see how you like the feeling of liquid fire burning through your stomach. 0
"Amelia, the contract for the extreme pepper tasting in Mexico has been sent to your email. Do you want to sign it now?" My agent Sarah’s voice over the phone was filled with hesitation. The Carolina Reaper. Its heat index exceeds 1.5 million SHU. Just touching its juice can blister your skin. A normal person would be in tears just smelling it, let alone eating it. I stared at the bolded waiver clause on the screen. *The signee assumes all responsibility for any physical injuries caused during the tasting.* I tapped "Confirm." Departure in three days. The lingering taste of pure bile was still in my mouth—the result of the raw dandelion greens Chloe had started chewing on this morning. In my past life, on this exact day, I was still completely in the dark, thinking I had contracted some bizarre disease. I had run to three different hospitals and done full-body scans, only for all the results to come back perfectly normal. On the drive back, Ethan had glanced at me with nothing but annoyance, telling me to "stop making a scene over nothing." My phone screen lit up. It was a Snapchat message from Chloe. "Amelia! I’m starting my 'extreme bitter challenge' livestream today. Will you come and show some love? ?❤️" In my last life, I actually went. I left a bunch of supportive comments. Then I took a sip of plain water at home and gagged from the intense bitterness. I didn't reply. I tossed the phone onto the sofa. The front door clicked open. Ethan walked in, holding two cups of boba. "Hey babe, I got you your favorite mango pomelo sago." He smiled warmly, his eyes curving into two handsome crescents. I used to fall for that smile every single time. Now, it just made me sick. I took the drink and took a sip. The moment the sweet liquid hit my tongue, it turned into an overwhelming, toxic bitterness. It tasted like someone had emptied a bottle of concentrated liquid medicine down my throat. My stomach spasmed violently. But I kept my face completely blank and set the cup down. Compared to the agony of dying from bitterness in my past life, this was nothing. "Why aren't you drinking?" Ethan leaned in, his voice dripping with concern. "Don't want it." "Are you feeling sick again? I told you, stop staring at your phone so much. The blue light is messing with your head." His care was flawless. Every word was perfectly placed. So perfectly placed it felt rehearsed. I looked at him and said flatly, "I signed a contract. I’m going to Mexico in three days." Ethan froze. "What are you going to Mexico for?" "A livestream. Eating hot peppers." The smile on his face cracked. "Are you kidding me? You can't even handle medium salsa at Chipotle. What kind of peppers are you going to eat?" "Carolina Reapers." He slammed his boba cup onto the table, splashing liquid everywhere. "Amelia, have you lost your mind?" He never called me by my full name unless he was genuinely angry. I tilted my head. "Didn't you say I was too spoiled? I'm just building some resilience." Ethan took a deep breath, trying to suppress his anger. "Are you throwing a tantrum? Just because of what I said the other day?" "No." "Then stay home and stop making trouble. Chloe is under a lot of pressure right now. She’s drowning in debt and relying entirely on her streams to survive. Don't add to the drama." I almost laughed out loud. Add to the drama? In my past life, I stayed quiet. I couldn't eat a single bite of food. My mouth was full of ulcers, and my tongue was so swollen I couldn't speak. He called me dramatic. Chloe said I was putting on a show. In the end, I quietly died in my bed, and nobody even came to collect my body. "Ethan, have you ever thought about something?" I stared into his eyes, pronouncing every word clearly. "What if every bit of bitterness Chloe is supposedly eating... is actually being felt by me instead?" The room went dead silent for three seconds. Then, Ethan let out a soft, pitying laugh, as if looking at a lunatic. "Babe, is the stress getting to you? Maybe I should book you an appointment with a therapist." Right then, my phone rang. It was a FaceTime call from Chloe. Ethan glanced at the screen, swiped to answer, and his voice instantly softened by three octaves. "Hey, Chloe. What's up?" "Ethan! My first stream went so well! I ate three raw aloe leaves, and the chat was calling me so brave!" On the screen, Chloe was smiling brightly, green aloe slime still smudged on her lips. Meanwhile, the back of my throat was completely numb, and a wave of nausea washed over me from the phantom bitterness. Ethan didn't even look at me. "That's amazing, Chloe. I knew you could do it." Chloe’s eyes shifted past Ethan’s shoulder, landing on me. "Oh, Amelia is there too! Amelia, you look so pale. Are you sick? You really need to take care of yourself." Her tone was sickeningly sweet, but her eyes were dripping with triumph. I curled my lips at the screen. "I'm fine. It's probably just the smell of your raw aloe. It’s so strong I can smell it right through the screen." Chloe’s smile stiffened for a fraction of a second. But she recovered quickly. "Amelia, you’re always so funny." She hung up. Ethan turned around, his brows furrowed in deep annoyance. "What was that about? Chloe is literally working herself to the bone to pay off her debts. Why do you have to be so passive-aggressive?" "I didn't mean anything by it." I stood up and walked toward the bedroom. As I passed him, I paused. "By the way, I’m not changing my mind about Mexico. If you try to stop me, I'll pack my bags and move out today." The gentle facade on Ethan's face finally shattered. He clenched his phone so hard his knuckles turned white. "Amelia, you’ve changed." I shut the bedroom door. Through the thin wood, I heard him make a call. "Chloe... Amelia says she’s going to Mexico to eat Carolina Reapers... Yeah, the super hot ones... What should I do?" I couldn't hear Chloe's reply clearly, but I knew her tone all too well. In my last life, she had used that exact same tone to tell Ethan: "Ethan, Amelia is just too high-maintenance. Don't baby her." The hallway fell silent. Then, Ethan’s footsteps faded away. I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The bitter taste in my mouth finally faded slightly. The email confirmation for my flight and contract lay quietly in my inbox. Three days. I only had to endure three more days. 0
The next morning, I was woken up by the doorbell. I opened it to find Chloe standing there, holding a large paper bag. "Amelia! I made you some organic dandelion and mint cleansing tea. It’s great for reducing inflammation." She was wearing a floral sundress, her makeup flawless. She looked like the perfect, sweet family friend. I didn't reach for the bag. "How do you know my door code?" Chloe tilted her head, her smile unchanging. "Ethan gave it to me. He said you weren't feeling well and asked me to check on you." Without waiting for an invitation, she pushed past me, walking straight into the kitchen to grab a mug. She moved around the space like she owned it. "Here, try it. I made sure not to put any sweetener in it." She handed me a steaming mug. I looked down. The pale yellow liquid had a few mint leaves floating on top. She had done this in my past life too. Except back then, she brought a matcha detox shake. I had taken one sip, and the moment the liquid touched my tongue, a bitterness so foul it felt like pure poison flooded my throat. I spent the entire night throwing up until my stomach acid turned yellow. I pushed the mug back. "I'm not drinking that." Chloe’s smile faltered. "Amelia, don't be like that. I spent two hours brewing this." "I'm not being any way. I just don't want you wasting your time." I leaned against the counter, my gaze cold and steady. "After all, you have a livestream later, don't you? What’s on the menu today? Pure wormwood extract? Or goldenseal powder?" Chloe’s fingers tightened around the mug. "Amelia... how did you know I was going to use goldenseal today?" "Just a guess." She stared at me for a few seconds. The warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced by a cold calculation, before she quickly put her mask back on. "You’re so weird today, Amelia. I don't eat stuff like that. I just do normal green juices." "Right. Have fun with that." I took the mug from her hand, walked over to the sink, and poured the hot tea straight down the drain. Behind me, Chloe gasped, her manicured nails digging into her palms. "Amelia... do you have a problem with me?" "No." "Then why did you just pour out the tea I worked so hard to make for you?" Her voice began to tremble with tears. This trick worked on Ethan every single time. I turned around. Her eyes were already red, her lip trembling, her chin tilted up in the perfect picture of an innocent victim. "Save it, Chloe. Ethan isn't here. Your little performance is wasted on me." Her face went instantly cold, the mask slipping off entirely. But in less than a second, she was weeping again. "Amelia, I don't know what I did wrong... Did I misunderstand something?" The sound of keys jangled at the door. Ethan walked in. The first thing he saw was Chloe crying in the kitchen, and the empty mug sitting in the sink. His face darkened instantly. "Amelia, what did you do?" Chloe wiped her eyes right on cue. "Ethan, it's fine! Amelia probably just didn't like the tea... My cooking is terrible anyway. It's my fault." Ethan rushed to Chloe’s side, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Chloe spent her entire morning making this for you, and this is how you treat her?" "I said I didn't want it." "If you didn't want it, you could have just said so! Why did you have to dump it right in front of her? Do you have any idea how hurtful that is?" Looking at him shielding Chloe so protectively, I found it hilarious. In my past life, when I was curled up on the bathroom floor clutching my stomach in agony, he was busy sending virtual roses in Chloe's livestream chat. "Ethan, you get this mad over a dumped cup of tea. But do you have any idea that my mouth has tasted like pure battery acid since yesterday?" "Here we go again." He let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Amelia, can you stop making everything about yourself? Chloe eating healthy has nothing to do with you. If your mouth tastes bad, go see a doctor. Stop trying to blame her." Chloe kept her head down, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed quietly. Ethan’s heart practically broke for her. "Come on, Chloe. Let’s go. We don't need to deal with her nonsense." He began guiding Chloe out of the apartment. As he passed me, he stopped. "If you're still going to Mexico, then we have nothing left to talk about." The door slammed shut. Standing in the empty living room, a fresh wave of intense bitterness flooded my mouth. It was worse than before. Chloe must have started eating the goldenseal powder. I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. My tongue was covered in tiny, painful red blisters. In my past life, these didn't appear until the third day. She was ramping up the dosage. My phone buzzed with an Instagram notification. Chloe’s livestream was live. The title read: *"Trying the Extreme Goldenseal Powder Challenge. Doing whatever it takes to pay off my brother's medical bills."* The comment section was overflowing with sympathy. *"Oh my god, that stuff is notoriously bitter! Chloe, you didn't even flinch!"* *"This is a real independent woman. Unlike some people who just sit at home playing the rich housewife."* *"Keep going, Chloe! Sending you all my love and super chats!"* I locked my phone screen. I dragged my suitcase out of the closet, unzipped it, and began throwing my clothes inside. Three days was too long. I changed my flight. I was leaving tomorrow. 0
By 2:00 AM, the bitterness in my mouth was so unbearable I couldn't sleep. Chloe had started a late-night stream. This time, she was drinking concentrated wormwood tea. The chat was filled with crying emojis. Meanwhile, I lay in bed, feeling as if a gallon of black ink had been poured down my throat, burning its way from my esophagus to my vocal cords. My phone lit up. It was a text from Ethan. "I’ll take you out for sushi tomorrow to make it up to you. Just don't go to Mexico, okay?" I didn't reply. A second text popped up immediately. "Chloe said she didn't mean to make you feel bad. She’s been crying all night. Can't you just be the bigger person?" I flipped my phone face down under my pillow. The next morning, as I dragged my suitcase toward the front door, Ethan blocked the hallway. He was in his sweatpants, his hair messy, looking like he hadn't slept at all. "Are you really doing this?" "Yes." "Amelia, I'm telling you, you can't handle spicy food. Last time you had jalapeños on your pizza, your lips were swollen for two days. Have you forgotten?" "That was then." I tried to step around him to grab my shoes. He grabbed the handle of my suitcase. "Why do you have to be so stubborn? Do you ever think about my feelings?" "Your feelings?" I looked up at him, finding the words absolutely pathetic. "Ethan, did you ever think about mine? When I told you my mouth tasted like poison, you said I was faking. When I told you my stomach was killing me, you told me to stop being dramatic. Now I’m leaving, and you want to talk about *your* feelings?" He choked on his words, his grip on my suitcase loosening slightly before tightening again. "I only said those things because I care about you! Why can't you see that?" The doorbell rang. Ethan opened it. Chloe stood outside, her eyes red and puffy as if she’d been crying for hours. "Ethan... is Amelia leaving because of me? It's all my fault. I shouldn't have brought that tea... I'm so sorry..." She looked ready to burst into tears again. Ethan immediately pulled her into the apartment, patting her back gently. "It’s not your fault, Chloe. She’s just being stubborn." Over Ethan’s shoulder, Chloe looked at me. Her eyes were watery and pathetic, but deep inside them, I saw that familiar, icy smirk. It was the exact same look she gave me in my past life. When I was on my knees begging her to stop streaming, she had looked down at me with that exact same smug smile. Then, she had turned to Ethan and wept beautifully. "Amelia, please don't go. I won't come around anymore, I promise... I shouldn't have intruded..." Ethan turned to me, his eyes blazing with fury. "Amelia, are you happy now? Chloe has no family. I’m the only person she can rely on. Why are you so heartless?" I yanked my suitcase handle out of his grip. "Ethan, remember every single word you said today." "When you finally taste the bitterness Chloe has in store for you, don't come crying to me." His face flushed red with anger. "Are you threatening me?" "No. I'm warning you." I rolled my suitcase out the door. Just as the elevator doors were closing, I heard Chloe's voice drift from the apartment. "Ethan... do you think Amelia is having a mental breakdown? Maybe we should get her some help..." Ethan’s reply was muffled. "She's probably just losing her mind." As the elevator descended, I looked down at my phone. Chloe’s Instagram follower count had just hit 50k. Her stream title was now: *"Kicked out by my friend’s wife, trying not to cry too loud."* The video showed her sitting on a park bench, holding a cup of herbal tea, wiping away tears as she drank. The chat went wild. *"I feel so bad for Chloe. That wife is a literal monster."* *"Some people get to live in luxury and still hate to see others work hard."* *"We love you, Chloe! Don't let her get to you!"* Suddenly, another wave of intense, sharp bitterness surged in my mouth. It was stronger than yesterday, as if someone had dumped pure bile powder onto my tongue. My stomach contracted violently, and I had to lean against my suitcase for support. Not enough. This pain wasn't enough. I needed something far more brutal to send right back to her. My phone rang. It was the coordinator for my contract. "Amelia, we’ve confirmed your flight for 3:00 PM today. Once you land, a driver will take you to the base. The Carolina Reapers were just harvested from the farm. They are incredibly fresh." "Perfect." I stood up straight, wiping a trace of bitter spit from the corner of my mouth. "Please prepare extra. I don't want to run out." There was a brief silence on the other end. "...Amelia, normal people can't even touch these things. Are you sure?" "I'm sure." I hung up and ordered an Uber straight to the airport. Ten minutes before boarding, Ethan’s name flashed on my screen. "Amelia, if you get on that plane, we are getting a divorce." I looked at the boarding countdown, put the phone to my ear, and said: "Draft the divorce papers. I'll sign them. But before you do, you might want to ask Chloe one thing—who exactly is her taste-swap system bound to?" The line went quiet for a long moment. Then, a scoff. "You really have lost your mind. Taste swap? System? Amelia, go get your brain checked." The boarding announcement chimed. I stood up and walked toward the gate. "Just wait and see." 0
I landed in Mexico just as dusk was falling. My local guide, Marcus, was a lean, dark-skinned man. "Amelia, the Carolina Reaper is no joke. Local farmers here use it as a pesticide. They spray it on crops to keep pests away. Are you really going to eat this live?" "Yes, really." He looked at me like I was walking to my execution. We drove for over three hours into the mountains. The streaming setup was simple—a rustic wooden table inside a metal-roofed shed, with several sealed plastic containers laid out. Marcus put on heavy-duty gloves and opened one of the boxes. An invisible wave of pure, pungent heat hit my face. Tears instantly welled in my eyes. But my tongue didn't taste spicy. It still tasted bitter. Chloe was still streaming. Marcus scrambled back two steps. "Just smelling it is brutal. Are you absolutely sure..." "Set up the phone. We go live in ten minutes." He hesitated but did as he was told. The moment the stream started, viewers began trickling in out of curiosity. It was a brand-new account with zero followers, so no one knew who I was. The title was simple: *"Eating Raw Carolina Reapers Live."* I put on gloves, reached into the container, and pulled out a small, wrinkled, deep-red pepper. It was tiny, barely the size of my thumb. Marcus was frantically shaking his head behind the camera. I took a bite. For the first three seconds, I felt nothing. On the fourth second, the gates of hell swung wide open. It wasn't just spicy. It was fire. It felt like someone had pressed a red-hot iron plate directly onto my tongue, searing its way down my throat, through my esophagus, and straight into my stomach. My entire body doubled over. Tears and sweat poured down my face instantly. But on my tongue... The bitterness was gone. The bitter taste from Chloe was being rapidly, violently obliterated by the sheer heat. The system swapped our senses. If I tasted heat, she would taste it too. And this was the most extreme heat on the planet. The chat exploded. *"Holy crap, is she actually eating it?"* *"A Carolina Reaper?? Is she trying to die??"* *"She’s crying but she’s still chewing. This girl is insane."* I forced myself to swallow the first pepper. My stomach felt like a grenade had detonated inside it. But the bitter taste that had tortured me for days was entirely gone. Replaced by a pure, all-consuming burn. It felt amazing. My phone began vibrating frantically. It wasn't notifications from my stream. It was Snapchat calls from Chloe. One after another, missed calls piling up. I picked up a second pepper and smiled at the camera. "Alright guys, round two." The moment I bit down, my phone finally connected. I hadn't picked it up—Marcus’s hand had slipped and swiped the screen while trying to mute it. Chloe’s blood-curdling shriek pierced through the speaker. "AAHHH! Amelia, you lunatic! What are you eating?!" "My mouth! My mouth is on fire! Help me, Ethan! Ethan, help me!" The viewers on my stream heard everything. The chat was suddenly flooded with question marks. *"Who is that? Why is she screaming?"* *"Wait, she said her mouth is on fire? The streamer eats the pepper, and some other girl’s mouth burns? What kind of black magic is this?"* Chloe’s screaming continued in the background. Then, Ethan’s panicked voice cut through. "Chloe! Chloe, what's wrong? Why are your lips swelling up?!" "It's Amelia! She's eating something! Ethan, make her stop! Please!" Ethan’s voice turned into a roar of pure fury. "Amelia! Stop this right now! You're hurting Chloe!" II chewed the Carolina Reaper, my tongue so numb from pain that I could barely feel it anymore. But Chloe could. This time, the one suffering was no longer me.
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