After a brief chat with her supervisor, she was able to leave work early again.
She rode a shared bike home, opened the door, and flopped onto the sofa, tossing her old phone aside.
Just looking at the vile messages on it was nauseating.
[This System has finally gotten out of the penalty box.]
[Host, you cannot escape this ordeal. You are destined to die.]
The system’s voice suddenly blared out, making Hazel Sinclair jump.
Listening to its words, Hazel Sinclair understood. Her previous official complaint had gotten it thrown into the penalty box.
’And only for a few days.’
Hazel Sinclair pouted, thoroughly displeased.
"So you were lying to me before?" Hazel Sinclair demanded.
It had said that as long as she completed her missions, she could avoid her tragic fate. But now it was telling her she was destined to die.
That could only mean one thing: the system had been scamming her.
’I put my faith in you, and you played me for a fool.’
[As the early-death wife who motivates the male protagonist to succeed, your fate was sealed long ago. Death is your only way out.] The system was smug. ’Thankfully, the plot hasn’t derailed too badly. Everything is still proceeding along the storyline arranged by the Overgod.’
’The villain, Vincent Hawthorne, is still useful. And I also have to thank that rash woman, Mrs. Zane, and her unnaturally paranoid obsession with her husband.’
’The plot wouldn’t have been able to continue otherwise.’
[Only when you’re dead can the female protagonist truly redeem the male protagonist, healing him bit by bit through long-term companionship. You’re just a villainous side character who dies early.] The system’s voice was robotic, but Hazel Sinclair could still detect a smug, triumphant tone.
[A male protagonist, beaten down and stripped of his confidence, is saved by the female protagonist and goes on to reach the pinnacle of success. Readers love that kind of story,] the system continued to taunt.
[A drama queen like you should just die sooner rather than later.]
After hearing all this, Hazel Sinclair finally got it. She was bound to a system that was a toxic stan for the main couple.
"Heh..." Hazel Sinclair let out a cold laugh. ’So I deserve to die. I don’t deserve to live.’
’The system wants me dead, and so does that mysterious tycoon’s wife.’
’Is my life really that valuable?’
’Who am I bothering just by being alive?’
AAAAARGH—
Hazel Sinclair ran her hands through her hair in frustration. After calming down, she spoke to the system in a cold voice. "Just you wait. When I break free from the ending you’ve planned for me, I’ll make sure you never get out of that penalty box for the rest of your existence."
[Hahaha, I’ll be waiting. As soon as you die, my mission will be complete. Why would I be bound to you for a lifetime?] the system cackled.
[You have seven days left to live. They’ve already sent people.]
’Seven days? Coincidentally, I’m planning to fake my death and leave in seven days. I can use this.’
[Enjoy your last seven days. Getting to live this much longer is a net gain for you, after all.] The system’s voice faded out with a chuckle.
Hearing that, Hazel Sinclair couldn’t help but retort, "No wonder they chose me—someone who died suddenly—to complete this mission."
"So they figured that since I’ve already died once, I’d cherish the chance to live and work even harder to complete the missions."
"And when it came time to ’log off’ by faking my death, I wouldn’t mind, because I was already dead to begin with."
Hazel Sinclair pressed her lips together. ’I need to download an anti-fraud app. I’ve been scammed by the system!’
’Even someone as capable as me could get scammed!’
’I used to think people who got scammed were idiots for falling for such obvious tricks.’
’But when faced with a scam tailored just for me, I didn’t realize it either.’
Hazel Sinclair sighed. "Haaaah—"
"Life is so unpredictable."
’I’ve been hit by an interdimensional scam.’
Seizing the opportunity, Hazel Sinclair grabbed her bank card and hurried to the bank.
Wearing a mask, she stood in front of an ATM and withdrew fifty thousand in cash.
’Fifty thousand today, fifty thousand tomorrow... by the time I leave, I’ll have a few hundred thousand in cash.’
After getting the money, she called Jill Kensington.
"Are you free?"
"Nope," Jill Kensington replied without a moment’s hesitation.
"Yes, you are. Come pick me up, and I’ll send you two thousand," Hazel Sinclair said with a grin, glancing at the cash in her bag.
’Now that I have money, I can afford to throw it around.’
"You came into money?" Jill Kensington was stunned.
"Of course. What does Leon Sterling’s bankruptcy have to do with me? The men and women I hang out with are all CEOs or board chairmen," Hazel Sinclair boasted.
"Even the pocket change that slips through their fingers is more than enough for me."
Jill Kensington clicked her tongue, her voice dripping with envy. "That’s Miss Sinclair for you."
Jill Kensington drove to the bank and stopped. Hazel Sinclair got into the passenger seat with her bag.
"Here, two thousand," Hazel Sinclair said, pulling the cash from her bag and handing it over.
"Cash, huh." Jill Kensington took the money and stuffed it into her own bag.
"If I don’t use cash, I’ll be traceable when I make a run for it," Hazel Sinclair said, taking off her mask.
"I’m going to change my own fate," Hazel Sinclair said, her eyes curving into a smile. Since the system thought she was fated to die in some dark alley, she would do the exact opposite.
’I have to seize this second chance at life with everything I’ve got.’
’As a woman who clawed her way out of a poor, rural family that favored sons over daughters, the very last thing I believe in is destiny.’
’To make money, I could be on call twenty-four hours a day, even work multiple jobs at once.’
"Do it. Go lie low for a while. Wait until the person pulling the strings forgets about you, or until we figure out who you got involved with. Then you can come back," Jill Kensington agreed with a nod.
Hazel Sinclair looked at her. ’She’s the ’female protagonist’ the system was talking about. Maybe having her read the complaint letter will actually work.’
"When you get back, do me a favor," Hazel Sinclair said.
"What is it?" Jill Kensington asked.
"Oh, just read a complaint letter out loud."
’A complaint letter?’
"What’s the point of reading that?" Jill Kensington asked, confused.
"Just read it," Hazel Sinclair replied. ’I’m a transmigrator now. It’s better not to tell her about being bound to a system.’
After dropping the money off at Jill Kensington’s house, Hazel Sinclair reminded her repeatedly before she left, "Seven days from now—the cruise ship banquet. Make sure you take me with you."
Loyal as ever, Jill Kensington immediately nodded in agreement.
When she got home, she found Leon Sterling had left work early. He was sitting on the sofa, tapping away on his laptop.
’It doesn’t look like he’s done for the day. Is he planning on working from home?’
"You’re back?" Leon Sterling heard her and looked up. His gaze then shifted to the space behind her, and he didn’t see that annoying man, Liam Lancaster.
He let out a sigh of relief. His mood instantly improving, Leon Sterling put down his laptop and asked, "Why didn’t you ask me to pick you up from work today?"
"Oh, no need. I’ve figured out the shared bikes now, so I can get back on my own," Hazel Sinclair declined.
"Alright," Leon Sterling said, disappointed.
The two of them sat together, each absorbed in their own tasks. Hazel Sinclair was on her phone, communicating with a landlord in Rivenhall about a rental.
She watched a video tour of a two-bedroom apartment but wasn’t very satisfied. The lighting was poor, and the balcony wasn’t big enough.
She moved on to the next one. It was another two-bedroom, this one with bright sunlight and a large balcony, but it was rather remote. Food delivery fees started at three yuan.
’Getting around would be a pain. Unacceptable.’