Chapter 3: Tails and Trials

The system explains: In the original plot, the mermaid princess Sierra tried every torture, but still couldn’t pull out Derek’s heart-protecting scale. But she did hurt him a lot, and maxed out his hatred value. It was never meant to come out.

But something’s still missing. I check the panel again. Found it—this part of the plot needs some blood spilled to count as complete.

The system gives me a tip: "Go make him cough up blood. No, better yet, slap him with your tail. Tails hurt more."

I haven’t had this tail for long, still not used to it. When I hear I have to slap someone, my tail shakes with fear. I don’t want to hurt Derek again. It’s not his fault for growing dragon scales. But I don’t dare anger the system either.

Like a seahorse, I awkwardly swim up to Derek. I gather my courage, lift my broad tail fin, and slap it toward his handsome face. The blue fin sweeps through the water, barely brushing Derek’s cheek as it lands on him.

Derek’s eyes flicker with surprise at my move.

The system wants to poke my forehead and scold me. "Are you wiping his sweat, sis? Why not use a feather duster? Worried he’ll catch a cold? Can you be any less reliable? Just tell me if you can do it or not!"

I nod, tears in my eyes. Biting my lip, I swim a bit farther from Derek.

The system asks impatiently: "What are you doing?"

I scoop up a handful of pearls and whisper, "I want to get a running start—uh, a swimming start. More power."

"Finally, some brains. Go for it!"

I lock onto my target, swing my tail hard, and swim toward Derek. Just as I’m about to reach him, the system shrieks in my head: "Stop! Stop! I just checked—in merfolk culture, smacking someone with your tail is a freaking courtship display!"

The system barely finishes speaking—my tail has already hit Derek’s lower abdomen.

I used too much force—blood splatters all over him. From his face to his stomach, all bright red. My blood.

My tail fin struck the spirit-binding rope and sliced it off. The system is stunned for a second, then screams: "Oh crap, what are you doing, you absolute disaster? Why are you so reckless?"

With the rope broken, Derek is free. He looks at me, pupils dilating, disbelief on his face. Then, his cold expression melts into panic. He grabs me and pulls me into his arms.

Dragon roars echo around us. Red blood pours from my tail fin, like countless threads wrapping Derek and me together.

I’ve lost so much blood, the pain has me gasping, belly nearly flipping up. The water is warm with blood, and my head spins—like I’m on a tilt-a-whirl at the state fair, stomach dropping, vision going fuzzy at the edges. There’s a cold, metallic taste in my mouth, and my heartbeat echoes in my ears, louder and louder, until it’s all I can hear.

Derek trembles as he cradles my tail, pouring spiritual power into me.

Half-conscious, I ask the system: "Blood... has been spilled, does that count?"

The system yells: "You silly fool! Even if there’s blood, it can’t be your own!"

Then it suddenly cries out: "Holy crap, the male lead’s panic value just maxed out!"

The panel updates the task status.

Panic value: achieved.

Anger value: achieved.

Blood spilled: achieved.

Panel detects: task over-completed.

Reward issued—

Host revival points +30.

System revival points +30.

Points blink across my vision—like leveling up in a game I never wanted to play.