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Lucas held me tightly, crying, “It's okay—I can save you. I can.”
I smirked, “Too late. I drank a whole bottle of herbicide.”
He tried to wipe the blood—just smeared it everywhere.
“Elara, if you don't want to live, I'll die with you.”
My insides burned—like being eaten alive.
I opened my mouth but had no strength.
Lucas bent down, ear close, “Elara, what did you say?”
With my last breath, I whispered, “Go die somewhere else. Don't dirty my way home.”
Then I closed my eyes forever.
Back in the real world, I first collected the money.
Then I had the system erase all emotional traces from that world.
I remembered everything but felt no anger or sadness—just peace.
I started traveling—the system worried I'd be traumatized by men.
But it overthought—men are everywhere.
A month later, the system contacted me again,
“Host, the second male lead's data collapsed. New mission—double pay. Interested?”
It showed me that world as a ghost.
Isabella's illness relapsed, but the three men ignored her.
Lucas and Daniel bankrupted the Blackwoods.
Adrian, the finance genius, became a wreck—his parents yelled, but he didn't care.
He sat in a shabby apartment,coldly listening to Isabella's cries.
“You owe this to Elara. Remember how you hurt her?”
“Your life should've been hers.”
His parents slapped him, “She's your sister! That ungrateful brat ate our food—why shouldn't she donate?”
Adrian didn't flinch.
“Elara would've been better off in the orphanage.”
“You think the Blackwoods were paradise?”
He rolled up his sleeve—a dense cluster of burns.
He poured boiling water on his arm—no expression.
“You're insane!” Isabella cowered in fear.
“We owe Elara this.”
Daniel canceled his wedding to Isabella.
He exposed the Blackwoods' crimes—brought them down completely.
Lucas went mad—if Daniel hadn't stopped him, he'd have killed Isabella.
He quit medicine, broke his own hands, mumbling, “I owe Elara... I should've died...”
He forced Isabella to confess—made her kneel and apologize live on global TV.
Lucas became the caretaker of my grave.
He swept away leaves and dead flowers, eyes crazy with grief,
“Elara, I'll see you soon.”
“Will you hate me? Avoid me? I don't want to live either.”
I learned he'd been taking slow poison since I died.
A wind blew—Lucas stood up dazedly, reaching out,
“Elara, is that you? Did you come to see me?”
No one answered.
He knelt, crying desperately, “Please forgive me. Please.”
The system said Lucas would die soon.
“Just be a little nicer—mission done, double pay!”
It tried to tempt me.
I smiled, “Hard pass. Trash can die whenever.”
