Chapter 6: Thirty Million and a Broken Heart

That night, Natalie’s name trended multiple times:

"Natalie chases hearse"

"Natalie injured"

"Natalie and Caleb fallout"

The hashtags piled up, each more sensational than the last. News anchors speculated, fans dissected every angle, and Natalie’s PR team scrambled to spin the story.

Natalie nearly blew up my phone, so I had to remove the SIM card.

By the time the sun rose, I’d tossed my phone in a drawer and buried it under a stack of bills. She couldn’t touch me anymore—not through glass, not through pixels.

I turned to the system. "Will Derek really get thirty million?"

I asked out loud, half-hoping the voice in my head would finally make good on its promise.

System: "Really."

The answer was instant, chipper. Like it was handing out door prizes at a PTA meeting.

"What about me?"

I could already guess.

"Dear, the system detected your pain shield function worked normally, so you won’t receive compensation."

Of course. Leave it to the universe to split hairs over technicalities.

A thousand curses ran through my mind. At this point, I could only hope my friend would support me.

I ran a hand through my hair, cursing everything from fate to the hospital vending machine. I hoped Derek would remember our pact—friends don’t let friends starve, not even after cosmic insurance payouts.

The rest of the days passed quickly. I’d planned to pull the same trick on Aubrey, but her assistant was too vigilant, always saying she was with Caleb, so I lost interest.

I made a half-hearted attempt at blackmail, but the game wasn’t fun anymore. Besides, Aubrey had already moved on; I was a footnote at best.

Natalie, on the other hand, went off the rails. She harassed me more than once.

She left voicemails at all hours, her words slurred with anger or tears, sometimes both. I stopped listening after the fifth message.

"Where did Derek go? I saw his checkup report—how could he have pancreatic cancer? Don’t try to trick me with your pathetic lies."

She was desperate, grasping for anything that would make the pain go away. But the truth was right in front of her—she just refused to see it.

I calmly threw Derek’s death certificate in her face. "See? Social Security number, date of death, cause of death, all right there. Natalie, do you remember who got you your first album release when you broke into the music industry?"

I shoved the paper toward her, watching the color drain from her cheeks. She tried to look away, but the facts wouldn’t let her.

Natalie opened her mouth, but tears came out first. Watching her, I suddenly snapped.

Her bravado cracked. The tears came in ugly, hiccuping sobs. My anger boiled over.

"That was Derek, drinking with the producer, puking his guts out to get it for you! Natalie, you’re really something. Every time you soared, every time your fans worshipped you, how much did Derek drink, how much humiliation did he endure, how many times did he end up in the hospital—don’t you know?"

The words echoed in the small room. Natalie flinched as if struck, her hands trembling. I let the silence burn.

It’s true, Derek took the thirty million and went home to a good life. But for three years, he wrecked his body for her. For Derek, everything that happened here was real.

No amount of money could buy back what he lost. I saw the lines etched in his face, the way he limped when it rained. He gave her everything—she never even said thank you.

Natalie was stunned by my outburst, her face pale. Tears streamed down her face.

She sank to the floor, shoulders shaking. I almost felt sorry for her, but the bitterness wouldn’t let me.

Outside, Caleb yelled, "I want to see Natalie! That guy is dead, why are you stopping me?"

His voice carried through the thin walls, shrill and insistent. He sounded like a child who’d lost his favorite toy.

I looked coldly out the window, saying the last words, "Derek called you many times, and every time, Caleb answered. Including the last call before he died."

I didn’t care if it was true. The story was cleaner this way, and if it hurt Caleb, all the better.

Actually, Derek never called. He was so blinded by the thirty million, he’d already planned how to quit his job and book a car model when he got back. But we’re both spiteful. Even as we left, we didn’t want Caleb to have it easy.

If there’s one thing we excel at, it’s making sure karma comes around.

Sure enough, enraged, Natalie immediately rushed out and slapped Caleb. "Did you delete the call records? You jerk!"

The sound was sharp, echoing down the hall. Caleb’s mouth fell open, stunned.

Caleb stared in shock.

He never expected to be the villain in someone else’s story. The realization hit him harder than Derek’s punch ever could.

It started pouring outside. I saw Aubrey in the distance, walking quickly toward us without an umbrella. No wonder she’s the chosen main character—Caleb could never die at the hands of the villain.

Raindrops battered the glass, turning the world into a watercolor smear. Aubrey’s silhouette blurred as she hurried closer, her lab coat flapping behind her like a flag.

I laughed. I remembered the first time I met Aubrey—a genius physics girl whose life almost ended that summer after being accused of cheating in a competition. I ran through the rain to reach her, grabbed the knife from her hand, and said firmly,

I closed my eyes for a second, letting the memory play out like an old home movie—grainy and real.

"Aubrey, I believe you. I swear, from now on, wherever you go, I’ll always be with you."

I meant it then, every syllable. The storm around us, the warmth of her trembling hand in mine—it was all burned into my bones.

That little knife accidentally cut my inner forearm, blood pouring out. Aubrey kissed that scar countless times at night, crying, "You’re my salvation."

Sometimes, scars are the only proof that something mattered. We both carried them, hers on her heart, mine on my skin.

I watched the depressed physics genius grow into a tech star in the city. But after the main character appeared, we drifted apart.

Every time I saw her face on the news, smiling next to Caleb, I felt a hollow ache. The world only wanted the headline, never the footnote.

The system asked, "Host, your time is up too. Ready to leave this world? Want to say anything to Aubrey?"

It was the voice of inevitability. I thought about reaching out, but the weight of goodbye was too heavy.

I looked at the faint scar on my wrist and smiled. "Forget it, she’s here to save the main character. I’ll just go."

I whispered it to the empty room, hoping she’d hear it anyway, somewhere down the line.

I found a comfortable place to lie down. As I closed my eyes, I thought of Derek’s thirty million. Hope he keeps his word and supports me.

The hospital sheets were stiff, the lights too bright. I drifted off, clutching the memory of better days, hoping the next world would be kinder.

A few minutes later, Aubrey rushed in and found my cold body.

She knelt beside me, rainwater pooling at her knees, and for the first time, I wondered if maybe, just maybe, she’d finally see me.

Ding dong.

The system’s voice chimed, incongruously cheerful: "Congratulations, host, strategy complete. Returning to the real world. A logout point has been created for you. Have a nice life."

I opened my eyes from the darkness, deafened by music.

Bass thumped through the floor. Neon lights painted wild streaks across the ceiling. For a moment, I forgot who I was—then I saw Derek, grinning like a maniac, champagne in hand.

In the pool, Derek held a bottle of champagne, a pretty girl on each side, yelling excitedly at me.

A bikini flew past my head. Laughter bubbled up, unstoppable. It was ridiculous, over-the-top, and exactly what we needed.

"Jesse, what are you spacing out for? Take off your shirt and jump in!"

He raised his glass, beckoning me over. The music swelled, the world spun, and I dove in.