"I... I'm the brain-dead, garbage-tier husband who ditches his perfectly good wife for a 'dying' woman, then promptly ships said wife off to a mental institution, only to continue tormenting her upon her return?!"
Sierra's voice rose in disbelief, bordering on a high-pitched squeak that felt entirely out of place coming from her new, masculine throat.
"In this tutorial world, I've managed to become a character so utterly irredeemable, I wouldn't even qualify for the recycling bin!"
She threw her hands up in exasperation, bemoaning the cosmic joke that had cast her, a self-proclaimed innocent bystander, as the villain of this particular melodrama.
Suddenly, a transparent blue screen shimmered into existence before her, hovering in the air like a digital phantom. It displayed a rather dashing photo of the man whose body she currently inhabited, accompanied by a concise bio.
[Name: Darren Jiang
Age: 29 years old
Spouse: Hannah Jiang
Personality: Cold & heartless to those he deems insignificant, yet surprisingly gentle & attentive to the select few he genuinely cares for. Sly, calculated, charismatic, prone to irrational decisions when emotionally compromised, selfish, and highly judgmental.]
There was more data scrolling below, but Sierra barely registered it. Her eyes were fixated on that personality profile, each word a fresh stab to her already wounded pride.
Cold, heartless, irrational, selfish, judgmental.
She felt an overwhelming urge to find the nearest cliff and fling herself off it, just to escape the sheer toxicity of her new persona.
[Host, it is imperative that you internalize this information, particularly Darren's personality traits! Furthermore, a crucial detail: even when Darren deigns to smile, it is invariably a façade, a cold, calculated gesture devoid of genuine warmth. His eyes, even then, remain frigid. While I acknowledge your... nascent acting abilities, you must endeavor to align your performance with the script's demands! Oh, and I neglected to mention a crucial detail: should your performance be too egregious, and the actual inhabitants of this world perceive your behavior as... incongruous, leading them to utter a certain phrase—]
Duoduo's ominous explanation was abruptly cut short by the bzzzz-bzzzz of a vibrating phone, emanating from the pocket of the trousers Sierra was currently wearing.
Sierra fished the vibrating phone from her pocket, her brows furrowing as she saw the screen. Dozens of missed calls and unread messages, all from over an hour ago, glared back at her like tiny, digital accusations.
[Darren, where are you right now?]
[Isn't Hannah coming home today? Let's pick her up from the airport together!]
[Why aren't you picking up my calls? Have you left already? Then I'll just hobble my way to the airport after my 'life-saving' treatment at the hospital. Don't worry about poor little me!]
Sierra's eyes narrowed. The sender was as subtle as a brick through a window.
"This is Darren's 'dying' first love, isn't it?" she muttered, a vein throbbing in her temple. "Is Darren genuinely this dense? Two years! Two whole years this 'dying' woman has been flitting about, perfectly capable of picking people up from airports, and it hasn't once occurred to him that her terminal illness might be as fake as a three-dollar bill?"
Her initial awe at Darren's handsome visage had evaporated, replaced by a profound sense of disgust. His stupidity, his blatant favoritism, it was all so infuriatingly obvious.
[Host, I regret to inform you that Darren's first love, Lily, has been actively engaged in the sport of 'Hannah-bullying' at the airport for approximately two hours now. Initially, this particular scene was scripted to last a mere fifteen minutes. However, due to your... unforeseen delay, which included a rather intimate anatomical discovery, the duration of Hannah's torment has been significantly extended. As a primary antagonist and a pivotal character, your absence has inadvertently prolonged the suffering of the Female Lead.]
Sierra shot upright, a jolt of panic coursing through her.
"What?!" she shrieked, her voice echoing off the bathroom tiles. "Hannah is being bullied by Lily at the airport right now?! And it's been going on for two hours because I was too busy admiring... my new anatomy?!"
[Well, considering you've been... otherwise occupied for nearly twenty minutes since your grand entrance into this world, I suggest you prioritize. The airport is a thirty-minute drive from your current location. Time is, as they say, of the essence, especially when one's female lead is undergoing extended torment.]
Duoduo's voice held a distinct note of weary resignation, as if it had long since given up on the notion of its host exhibiting anything resembling efficiency. Meanwhile, Sierra, now fully clad and in a state of frantic panic, was tearing through the lavish rooms, desperately searching for car keys she probably didn't even need.
[Host, a gentle reminder: you are currently inhabiting the body of a ludicrously wealthy CEO. There is a vehicle, complete with a chauffeur, awaiting your command in the courtyard. Such trivialities as 'car keys' are beneath your station.]
"Ah, right! Darren's a rich man, of course he has a driver!" Sierra mumbled, a self-deprecating sigh escaping her lips as she burst out of the opulent mansion. "Us poor folk tend to forget about such luxurious conveniences. My apologies, loyal chauffeur, for my momentary lapse into commoner thinking!"
Indeed, two sleek, expensive cars idled in the driveway, flanked by several imposing figures who looked less like valets and more like they moonlighted as professional bouncers. One of them, a man built like a brick wall, approached Sierra.
"Mr. Jiang," the bodyguard intoned, his voice a low rumble, "we've been awaiting your instructions for the past two hours. Shall we depart now?"
Two hours?! Even the bodyguards have been waiting for two hours?! Good heavens! Have I truly squandered that much time, either listening to Duoduo's rather extensive briefing or, more embarrassingly, getting intimately acquainted with Darren's... impressive anatomical features?!
Despite the burgeoning panic and a fresh wave of guilt washing over her, Sierra, channeling every ounce of her latent acting ability, attempted to project an aura of cold indifference. She aimed for a detached, almost regal glare. What she achieved, however, was something entirely different. Darren's handsome features twisted into an expression that was less 'cold CEO' and more 'serial killer who just found his next victim.' The intended 'cold smile' morphed into a chilling grin that suggested she'd just successfully buried a body.
"Hmph... Let's go now," she managed to grunt, trying to inject some authority into her voice, but it came out sounding more like a threat.
The bodyguards exchanged nervous glances, a collective gulp echoing through the otherwise silent courtyard. They were clearly trying to decipher the sudden, terrifying shift in their boss's demeanor, wondering if their next assignment involved digging their own graves.
Sierra practically launched herself into the backseat of the sleek car, oblivious to the frantic, silent debate raging amongst the bodyguards. Inside, she was attempting to project an aura of detached coolness, a sophisticated chill that screamed 'ruthless CEO.'
Unfortunately, her only frame of reference for 'cold stare' was a particularly unhinged antagonist from a murder mystery she'd binged last week. The result was less 'aloof executive' and more 'maniacal killer plotting his next move.' The poor driver, mistaking Darren's unsettling glare for displeasure at his perceived slowness, slammed his foot on the accelerator. The luxury sedan transformed into a rocket-powered missile, weaving through traffic with the finesse of a Formula 1 racer.
Sierra, now a human pinball in the plush leather seat, bounced precariously.
Do all rich people commute like this? Is this a standard perk of immense wealth? Or is this just Darren's driver having a mid-life crisis on my watch?
To add to the surreal experience, the driver, clearly in his element, cranked up the stereo, filling the car with the triumphant, high-octane soundtrack of a Japanese car racing anime.
Twenty minutes later, they screeched to a halt at the airport, a full ten minutes ahead of schedule. Sierra, maintaining her 'cold' expression with legs that felt like jelly, stumbled out of the car. As her personal army of bodyguards fanned out around her, she began a brisk, determined walk in the direction Duoduo's mental compass indicated.
[Host, accelerate! Hannah and Lily are now within your immediate vicinity! And, a crucial addendum, Host: given their extended two-and-a-half-hour wait for your dramatic entrance, it is highly probable that some of the individuals present are, in fact, fellow members of your 'group,' subtly attempting to steer the narrative back onto its intended course! Endeavor to identify these covert allies and establish communication to optimize your experience within this new reality!]
"H-huh? So, is it Hannah or Lily? Or... both of them?"
Sierra whispered, her voice barely audible above the airport's bustling cacophony. Her strides remained long and purposeful, a nervous energy propelling her forward. Despite the swirling chaos of her thoughts, she knew one thing for certain: it was time for her grand debut.
Before Duoduo could even formulate a response, Sierra's gaze snagged on a commotion not far ahead. A small crowd had gathered, forming a semi-circle around a strikingly beautiful, albeit pale and distressed, woman who was currently occupying a rather undignified position on the airport floor. Standing over her, another woman, radiating an aura of fragile beauty that belied the fierce scowl contorting her features.
The tableau was instantly clear: Hannah, the beleaguered wife, and Lily, the 'dying' homewrecker. Sierra's internal identification system, usually reserved for distinguishing between different brands of instant noodles, had never worked so efficiently.
[Host, a minor correction: it's not merely Hannah and Lily creating this dramatic spectacle. Darren's social circle and Lily's entourages have also joined the fray. Consequently, there's a non-zero probability that one or two of your fellow 'group members' are currently embedded within the crowd, attempting to subtly influence the unfolding narrative.]
Sierra's confident stride faltered, her feet almost gluing themselves to the polished airport floor. She let out an internal wail of despair, lamenting her cosmic misfortune for what felt like the millionth time.
Oh, fantastic! Not only do I have to impersonate a walking dumpster fire of a male lead, but now I'm also expected to moonlight as a secret agent, sniffing out my covert allies amidst a full-blown airport drama! Duoduo, are you absolutely certain this 'system' was designed to facilitate my glorious return to life, and not, say, to meticulously orchestrate my slow, agonizing descent into madness? Because, frankly, the latter seems far more plausible right now!