Chapter 3: The Loyal Fan

I reread every single post, combing for details, as dawn crept through the blinds and stripes of sunlight painted the desk littered with coffee mugs and yesterday’s takeout. The neighbor’s dog barked at the garbage truck, and somewhere down the block, a lawnmower coughed to life. My hands trembled as I scrolled, the sick churn of dread in my stomach refusing to let up.

This challenge was either anti-human or anti-life. Because it was so dark, most major platforms had already banned the game. Only a few sketchy websites still let it attract some traffic.

Lillian had quietly completed 90 challenges, and I’d been completely clueless.

I’d been toyed with, hurt, and publicly humiliated by the woman I loved, and I didn’t even know why she was doing this, or how far she’d go.

But I knew she’d just slept with someone else.

There was no way to save this relationship, but I needed to understand it.

I tried leaving a comment on her post in English:

"Cheering you on from sunny Florida—can’t wait to see how this ends."

I’d registered this account five years ago, but only used it to look up stuff. No profile pic, just a string of random numbers as my username.

After changing my clothes and coming back, Lillian actually replied to me.

“Thank you, I will continue. I will challenge up to 100.”

My vision went dark. Challenge 100 was to take my life.

I steadied myself and immediately replied:

"Oh my god, you’re talking to me! I’m so excited, this means you’re real. I now officially declare, you are my idol. I’m really interested in your story."

“If you’re interested in my story, I’ll tell you when I get a chance. Now I have to go to work. Good luck.”

“Great, please remember you have a loyal listener on the other side of the world. As you can see, I’ve never had a name on the message board, so now I declare, I’ll change my name to LoveCatK. Wish you a good day at work.”

Lillian once had a cat named KK. After KK died, she changed all her online usernames to CatKinHeaven.

As I finished typing, my phone buzzed. Lillian sent me a voice message:

“Honey, I’m heading out to work. Do you miss me? I miss you. Text me when you wake up. I’ll smother you with kisses when I get back, just wait.”

After marrying Lillian, she’d always been so gentle and sweet, like a little girl.

If I hadn’t stumbled onto her dark game, I probably would’ve loved her with my whole heart for the rest of my life.

The irony made my throat close up, the phone heavy in my palm. Our whole life felt like it was made of glass and someone was tapping at it with a hammer, waiting for the first crack.

I lay on the bed, showing just half my face, and made a video call. Lillian picked up quickly.

“Honey, you’re up so early?”

I pretended to be half-asleep and mumbled, “Without you, I can’t even sleep well.”

Lillian laughed: “You always know how to say the sweetest things. Be good and wait for me. I’ll be back in a couple days.”

“Okay, I’ll listen to my wife.”

After hanging up, I took out the prenup. Lillian had written and insisted on it. When I showed it to our company’s legal director, Mr. Turner, he said he’d never seen a prenup like it before.

All premarital property stayed separate, and even after marriage, each person’s income was their own. Even debts were separate.

If I’d written this, it would make sense, but after Lillian’s parents got locked up, her family was buried in debt. This agreement didn’t help her at all.

But she insisted on signing. No signature, no wedding. At the time, I was even a little touched, thinking that after such a huge setback, she’d become more independent.

I couldn’t figure it out, so I called Mr. Turner to meet up.

He’d been involved throughout our marriage process and knew my family best. After hearing my questions about divorce, he said thoughtfully: “I’ve seen your prenup. If you push for a divorce, Lillian can only take her own income, nothing else. All the debts you paid for her, she has to pay you back.”

“What if I die?”

“Then it has nothing to do with the prenup. That’s an inheritance issue. Your parents are gone, and you don’t have kids yet. Your wife is the only legal heir.”

I’d thought about this, but if she wanted my assets, why bother with the previous 99 challenges?

Seeing me lost in thought, Mr. Turner frowned: “Ethan, your wife is beautiful and kind. Every time she comes to the office, she brings treats for the staff. She has a great reputation. You should think carefully.”

I snapped out of it and joked, “You old fox, you think I’m cheating on her?”

Mr. Turner laughed: “Not at all. I’m just saying, every family has its issues. Understanding is everything.”

“You have connections. Can you discreetly check if Lillian had a friend who went abroad before she met me—a guy?”

“Yeah, his name is Derek Sanders. I told you about him before. You said, ‘oh, I know.’”

“Why don’t I remember that at all?”

“At the time, you were about to try on your wedding suit and didn’t want to be bothered.”

I remembered. Lillian urged me to pick out the suit, and Mr. Turner happened to come by with the final pre-wedding report. I was so eager to marry Lillian I didn’t pay attention to what he said.

People only hear what they want to hear.

“What’s the story with this Derek Sanders?”

“Let me think…” Mr. Turner took a deep breath. “Derek was your wife’s childhood friend, probably her first love. He didn’t go to college in the U.S.—he went abroad for a few years. Later, when Lillian’s family had trouble, he didn’t come back, stayed overseas for another two years.”

So that was it. When Lillian needed support most, he was out of the country and didn’t come back. Lillian married me, and only after that did he rush back, secretly making me a fool.

“Check Derek Sanders’s family business.”

“I think his family is in medical equipment. I’ll check again.”