Chapter 2
His back clearly stiffened. Before he snapped out of it, I had already yanked out the IV needle. A few drops of blood splattered onto the white sheets.
He still hadn't reacted when I strode up behind him and reached into his pocket, pulling out whatever he had been hiding.
It was a wrist wrap sewn from dark brown cotton, the edges frayed from wear, still carrying the faint smell of roasted coffee grounds.
He had called it cheap and useless, but he'd been carrying it with him all this time.
Ryan spun around, trying to snatch it back, panic flickering in his eyes for the first time.
I stepped away, clutching the wrist wrap and the game token together.
"You were right," I told him, even managing a small smile. "Before I die, I should at least beat you once."
Not waiting for his reaction, I walked straight out of the room.
Two of Edward's bodyguards were standing at the door. They clearly hadn't expected me to just stroll out, and for a moment, neither of them stopped me.
I took a cab to the old GK e-sports club building. The place had long been abandoned. The gate wasn't even locked. It swung open with a push, kicking up a cloud of dust. I was here to return something.
Inside the training room, only Ryan's spot still had a gaming chair left behind.
I walked over and set the game token and the old wrist wrap side by side on the dusty table.
A faded photo sticker was stuck to the token. In the picture, he had just won some insignificant city match, but he still grinned like a kid, dragging me off to take that photo.
I remembered biting his sleeve, puffing up in annoyance at how childish he was. But I didn't realize I was smiling too.
On the wrist wrap, I spotted the stitch I had sewn crooked years ago.
Looking at those two things, whatever lingering feelings I had left scattered as easily as the dust on the table.
I had returned everything to you, Ryan. We were square now.
After all that, I felt lighter. I walked to the window and pushed open the rusted frame. Below was an abandoned concrete parking lot. Three stories up was more than enough.
I had just settled onto the windowsill when a sports car screeched into the lot.
Ryan tumbled out of the driver's seat. The moment he looked up and saw me, he froze, the color draining straight from his face. "Serena, get down!"
His voice was shaking. "I—I'll give everything back. Just come down first."
I ignored him. I just swung my legs over the edge, and for once, I actually felt free. He still didn't understand.
"Didn't you say I had to beat you once?" I glanced down at him, my tone casual. "You told me the token was your respawn token. As long as I kept it, you'd never lose. Well, I returned it."
I pointed toward the training room behind him. "It's on the table. Now it's my turn to win."
"I don't want to win. I don't fucking want to win." Ryan was nearly in tears, shouting so hard his words fell apart. "Get down! We'll start over. I'll let you win. Any way you want—just come down."
"But." I tilted my head and told him honestly, "I'm done playing. Game over." And with that, I leaned back.
The wind roared past my ears, carrying his scream farther and farther away. I closed my eyes, feeling like a leaf finally drifting home. This time, I really thought I was going back. But I never hit the concrete.
Somehow, he had sprinted inside and dragged an old safety airbag out of the first-floor storage room. He slid it underneath me in the last possible second, and when I landed, he threw himself under me to break the fall.
The impact knocked a grunt out of him, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.
He held me tight, his right wrist trembling violently from the old injury.
"You really wanted to die that badly?" He gritted the words out, voice shaking beyond control.
I was so exhausted I didn't even want to say a word.
He just held me like that—for a long, long time. Only then did he finally loosen his grip. When he stood, he swayed a little.
He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and slipped right back into that cold, shut-off version of himself. He took out his phone and made a call. "Adrian? Come to the old GK building. Your niece... she just jumped."
He hung up. He didn't drive away, and he didn't step inside to retrieve the game token either. He simply leaned against his car a short distance away, staring at me like he was terrified I'd vanish if he blinked. That look—like a wolf forced into a dead end.
The night wind chilled me. I sat slumped on the airbag that had just saved my life, waiting for Adrian to show up.
A black sedan rolled to a stop in front of me, its headlights soft, almost polite.
Adrian stepped out wearing a beige trench coat—clean, tidy, and completely out of place in this ruin.
He glanced at Ryan first, then finally at me. He didn't scold me and didn't ask why. He simply crouched down in front of me, touching the scrape on my forehead as if he were handling something fragile. His fingertips were cold, and the moment they brushed my skin, he jerked his hand back as if burned.
"No fractures," he said gently, his voice mild but distant. "Can you walk?"
Behind his glasses, his eyes were as warm as ever. He had once been the system's safest, most reliable target.
We used to be so close, able to read each other with a glance.
I thought that kind of connection couldn't be broken—but in the end, he chose to stand aside.
I nodded and pushed myself off the ground, standing on my own.
He opened the back door for me. The car was warm inside. He handed me a bottle of water. A sticky note was taped to it, written in his neat pen strokes: [Take a small sip to moisten your throat. Finish the rest in 15 minutes. Don't choke.]
It was the way he had looked after me since I was little—precise as a program and just as emotionless.
The car eventually pulled up in front of a private hospital.
"Go in and get a full check-up," Adrian said as he unbuckled his seatbelt and looked over at me. "I don't want the Cole family's name showing up in tomorrow's headlines."