Chapter 2

I didn't show any fear. I'd been awake for less than five minutes, had some oatmeal, taken my meds, and said three sentences.

I wasn't shaking, screaming, or glancing around nervously. According to the usual instance, I should still be in the confused phase, thinking I'd simply transmigrated into a romance game.

He shouldn't know I was scared unless he was picking up on my feelings.

Or even worse, he already knew what was really going on in this instance.

The panel read: [Sanity: 90%

[Tip: You've triggered the first hidden rule. Never show fear in front of him.]

He could already sense it.

[Tip: Quick fix—Get his affection points above 90 within three hours, or you'll trigger the "disappointment" plot.]

Three hours to go from 85 to 90. It sounded easy enough. Just act sweet, be obedient, and cater to his preferences. But the problem was, I had no idea what he even liked.

Wait, the system knew.

I quickly scrolled through the panel and found an option labeled "Character Profile" in the corner. When I clicked it, Raul's info popped up.

It read: [Raul Donnelly, 26, freelancer.

[Likes: Baking, gardening, quiet movies, you in light-colored dresses, you with your hair in a ponytail, you having warm milk.

[Dislikes: Lies, betrayal, you being unhappy, you skipping meals, you ignoring him.

[Danger Level: Unknown.

[Note: He really loves you. That's the scariest part.]

That last note sent a chill down my spine.

Which was more dangerous, a monster that truly loved one, or a monster that didn't? The answer was the first.

If a monster didn't care about one, one just needed to find its weakness and defeat it. But if a monster really loved one, then one was its weakness.

But that was also the most uncontrollable factor.

I took a deep breath and started making a plan. Three hours, five affection points. That meant one point every thirty-six minutes.

If I wore a light-colored dress, tied my hair up in a ponytail, drank some warm milk, and played the good girl, that should do the trick, according to the system's stated preferences.

But it was never that easy.

This was an S-rank instance. If playing to his likes was all it took to survive, the 977 players before me wouldn't have ended up dead.

There had to be other hidden rules that I hadn't uncovered yet.

I pulled back the covers and was about to step out of bed when my foot brushed against the slippers. Out of nowhere, the system chimed with a notification.

It wasn't the usual panel "ding". This was softer, almost like the sound of wind chimes.

A new line of text appeared on the panel.

It read: [Special Rule Unlocked (1/7)

[Rule 1: Say "I love you" no more than three times a day. If you do, you'll have to find out the consequences for yourself.]

The rule was clear: one couldn't say "I love you" more than three times a day. It was a hard cap on how much love one could express.

But here was the catch. The winning condition for this instance was to get Raul to say "I love you."

Getting him to say it even once already used up one of the daily quota.

So if I manage to make Raul say those words, that was one down. If he said it two more times, what would happen after the third? What if he said it a fourth time?

The system said, "you'll have to find out the consequences for yourself," but I was not about to risk my neck to find out what those consequences were.

And this was only the first special rule. There were six more, and I had no idea what any of them could be.

I stood up and walked over to the closet. When I opened the door, my clothes were all neatly hung up inside.

There were plenty of light-colored dresses, so I picked out a cream-colored floral dress and changed into it. Then I grabbed a hair tie from the drawer and pulled my hair up into a high ponytail.

The girl in the mirror looked neat and youthful, like any ordinary twenty-something one would see on the street.

When I walked out of the bedroom, Raul was in the kitchen, washing dishes. The faucet was running, water splashing loudly, and with his back to me, I could see the outline of his shoulder blades through his thin T-shirt.

"Raul," I called.

He turned off the faucet and turned around. The moment his eyes landed on me, he paused for a second. Then he smiled, not the kind of gentle smile one put on for show, but something raw and unguarded, like he'd been struck in the heart.

"You look amazing," he said, his voice low. "That dress looks especially good on you."

The panel read: [Affection: 86→87]

One point down. Three more to go.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, drying his hands as he walked over. "I can make you some lunch. What do you want to eat?"

"Anything's good. Whatever you make, I love it," I replied.

I said it without thinking, because it was the truth. Judging from that bowl of oatmeal earlier, Raul could really cook. And honestly, in a place like this, a good meal might be the last comfort I get.

He smiled again, reached out and ruffled my hair. "Such a little charmer."

On the panel, it said: [Affection: 87→88]

Two more points to go.

Everything was going way too smoothly. So smooth it made me uneasy.

I followed him into the kitchen, pretending to help but was really scoping out every detail.

All the knives were locked up in a cabinet, and the key was clipped to Raul's belt. There was a sticky note on the fridge that said [Remember to drink milk,] written in neat, careful handwriting.