Chapter 6: Betting Against Me

I stared at the live-chat comments flickering in front of my eyes, frowning, even forgetting to blink.

The “villain” they mentioned had to be James Donovan, the man threatening this world’s peace.

Those failed strategists from before—no wonder the system had warned me so much about how dangerous he was.

The system must have tried everything. So why did it think someone as unremarkable as me could succeed?

As I wondered, the comments shifted focus to me.

[But honestly, all these years, the only one who really kept the villain together wasn’t a stand-in or a strategist—]

[It was the son his late wife left behind.]

[She left without a word, leaving only that one child.]

[That’s his only tie to the world now.]

[Otherwise, with how crazy he was back then, he’d have burned the world—or himself—down a long time ago.]

[So every strategist has failed.]

[After all, the late wife is his white moonlight.]

[She’s the only pure place in his heart.]

[He absolutely won’t let anyone defile her by borrowing her face or name.]

[That’s why every imposter has died worse than the last.]

[So what about this one?]

[This ordinary, unprepared, utterly forgettable strategist?]

[How many days can she last?]

—They even started placing bets.

[I bet her next meeting with the villain will be her last.]

[I’m putting five bucks on her not making it past Tuesday.]

[Me too.]

Someone even dropped a laughing emoji—

[No, she took a nasty fall just now.]

[And now it’s snowing hard.]

[Whether she even survives this week is anyone’s guess...]

I let out a dry laugh, breath clouding in the cold, the kind you make when the world’s just a little too cruel and you’re pretending not to care what strangers think.