Chapter 1
The system said the crueler I was, the more he would suffer, and the more it would sharpen him into someone great.
For three years, I played the role of a gold-digging girlfriend and ground his dignity into the dirt.
Every time I hurt him, I would cry and ask the system, "When is the love of his life going to show up?"
I didn't want to torment him anymore, but I had to play the part.
I only let myself put ointment on his swollen fingers after he had fallen asleep.
Then finally, I "died" in front of him in a fire. I thought that was the end of it.
One year later, I walked into his art exhibition, and I saw that every single painting on the wall was of me.
*****
"Jack," I said, tossing the necklace back into the box and snapping it shut. "Other girls get designer jewelry, and you bring me some cheap knockoff from a street stall?"
Without a second thought, I tossed the box straight into the trash.
Jack Evans stood there in front of me, completely at a loss, looking like a kid who had done something wrong.
I couldn't see his face clearly, but I could see the number floating above his head.
10. 25. 40. Finally, it stopped at 55, flashing wildly.
His pain score was updating live.
"I..." Jack started, his voice rough. "The shopkeeper said the moonstone could keep you safe, so I thought..."
I cut him off, my voice sharp. "What the hell were you thinking?
"You really think this junk is going to protect me? Jack, I want real jewelry. Stuff I can wear out without people laughing at. Not this."
"Lilian," he suddenly called out.
He rarely called me that. Usually, it was "Lily," always with that gentle, affectionate lilt.
I froze.
He took two steps closer. He was too close. I could see the red in his eyes and the tiny tremble of his eyelashes.
My heart clenched.
"You want to travel abroad, right? I'll take you someday, I promise," he said, then took a deep breath. "Big house, designer bags. Everything other people have, I'll give it all to you someday."
I opened my mouth, but my throat was choked up, like something was blocking the words.
"Trust me, okay?" he added.
Did I trust him? Of course I did.
Because the system had already shown me. Future Jack would stand on an international stage in a tailored suit, with a calm, confident look in his eyes.
He'd be rich and famous. Countless people would love his paintings. He'd be able to buy me expensive jewelry, take me abroad, and afford a big house.
But none of that would be for me. It'd all go to Susan White, the one who'd be there with him when he was at his best, graceful and perfect, sharing the world with him.
And me? I was just an NPC to push him along.
"Trust you?" I sneered. "Jack, you can't even afford a decent necklace. How am I supposed to trust you?"
His face drained of all color in an instant.
Every time I hurt him, it tore me up inside.
But the system said suffering was a required part of growth. I had to follow the system's plan, keep tormenting him, and wait for the real heroine to show up. Then I could bow out.
I turned away, couldn't bear to look at him anymore.
"Go get some rest," I said, my voice icy. "You've got to keep working tomorrow if you want to pay the rent."
*****
It was two in the dead of night, and I made sure Jack was truly asleep.
He was exhausted. He was lying on the floor mattress next to me, his breathing so heavy it sounded like he'd passed out.
"Thank God it's still here," I muttered, reaching into the trash can.
The system sneered at me. [Why do you always do something this dumb?]
I wasn't dumb. This necklace was a gift Jack got by pawning his mom's last keepsake.
It wasn't a fancy brand, but it was his way of caring. If it weren't for the mission, I never would've thrown it in the trash.
"I'll hide it carefully," I said, pulling the necklace out. "He'll never know. I swear."
[Your mission is to hurt him. The more he suffers, the more cash you rake in,] the system reminded me.
I lowered my eyes.
The system said, [Aren't you supposed to love money? This is weird.]
It was right. Back then, I only took this gold digger role because of the money.
But Jack was so pure. Even after I hurt him, he'd still say, "I'll give you everything one day." Every time I tortured him, I honestly felt like smacking myself in the face.
Back in our cramped apartment, I lay on my side, quietly watching Jack sleeping on the floor.
He was still wearing that old T-shirt. The collar was washed out and loose, and his collarbone was showing. He was so thin it hurt my heart.
He'd taken on so much work these past few months, but he never complained.
He just handed me the money he made and said, "Buy whatever you want."
And I'd take the money, then stab him with another cruel line. "What am I supposed to buy with this?"
Every single time, it was like this.
The system notification lit up right then. The blue glow was painfully bright in the dark. [Target's pain score peaked at 55. Reward: $300,000.]
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn't need to check to know it was the bank text.
Even with the money hitting my account, it did nothing to calm the storm inside me.