Chapter 113

Anyway, he said he’d move it to the greenhouse.
That was fine with me.
I quickly accepted his kindness.

“Thank you, brother.”

“I’ll have someone take care of it while you eat. Just rest in the meantime.”

“Yes. Thank you for being so thoughtful.”

Bjorn left the room after finishing his business.

As soon as the door clicked shut, I walked over to the dress.

“Lady Rian really does have golden hands.”

I couldn’t help but admire it.

Tiny daisies were embroidered diagonally from shoulder to chest, densely packed, delicate as lace. On impulse, I reached out and brushed the fabric.

Hundreds of tiny petals grazed my fingers like soft bristles.

Just touching it felt fragile—let alone sewing it.
#Professionalism. #SkilledFemaleLead.

The other dresses were just as breathtaking.

One was adorned with fingertip-sized blooms, another had its hem stained with hibiscus petals that created a dreamy gradient.

Looking at Rian’s work, I became certain.

She’ll be back.

Some users worried she had logged out.
But I didn’t think so.

Items like these don’t appear by accident.
Buffs don’t make beauty out of nothing.

They still require intention.
Hands. Will. Passion.

I remembered Rian sketching in the carriage. The sparkle in her eyes was real.

She wouldn’t leave a world where she could do what she loved.

She’d return. Once the hurt passed.

I glanced at the dress one last time and collapsed into bed.

The afternoon light scattered across the curtains, soft and golden.
The sheer white fabric fluttered in the wind.

Watching it sway, I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat.

The system, at least, had succeeded. It had made one thing clear to everyone:

This was a ranking game.

After the midterm evaluation, the once-laid-back community tensed like a pulled bowstring.
What I had initially seen as a punishment—being banned from the community—now felt like luck.

If I’d stuck around to witness the chaos of people begging for items and stealing main characters, I might’ve lost my mind too.

Since that day, users who had previously stayed silent started speaking up, emboldened by the sudden priority placed on status and performance.

The shift wasn’t gradual, like sunset spilling across the sky.

It was a light switch.
On. Off.
Darkness, then light, then darkness again.

Everything changed in an instant.

Just like trends.

Once, kind-hearted heroines had been the standard. Then, without warning, villainesses seized the stage.

The system had anticipated this.

By stoking competition, it gave voice to those who had been uncomfortable with the old camaraderie. And honestly, it made sense.

Gather a hundred people, and they won’t all want to be friends.

Some people crave rivals.

Still… it was a little sad.

I missed the version of this game where we all cheered each other on.
Where we shared buffs and jokes, not betrayal and bitterness.

Can that kind of atmosphere ever return?

I remembered the posts I’d scrolled through on Siena’s tablet earlier.

Messages from young women trying to win Larisa’s sympathy and score one of her donated items. Ninety percent of them were probably lies.

Then came the reviews—AIs evaluating the players.

And their judgments?

Absolutely brutal.

I thought mine was harsh because I ranked 94th, but when I read the review for the user who placed 35th, I realized mine had been merciful.

Some users were genuinely broken by their self-evaluations.

A few highlights:

[AI 1] Rating: 0 stars

The protagonist is passive and only ever causes trouble for the male leads. She does nothing on her own. Why am I watching this?

[AI 2] Rating: 10

♥ Long live the Summer Kingdom Emperor! Every scene with him gets a perfect score! Give him all the screen time! He’s gorgeous, smart, charming—and he carries this story!

[AI 3] Rating: 0

Too many characters. Too confusing. Feels like a romance trying to be fantasy. Also, the protagonist is indecisive and promiscuous. Not my taste.

[AI 4] Rating: 0

The male lead is barely around. This might as well be high fantasy. Still, if they develop the male lead better, it has potential.

[AI 5] Rating: 0

I don’t like it. Too tired to explain. But I don’t like it.

Honestly, I didn’t get AI 2’s logic.

Sure, it bumped me up from 100th place to 94th, but still—how do you give a 10-star rating just for the Summer Kingdom Emperor?

It made me wonder:
Where did these AIs learn to write reviews?

In the end, none of it felt worth agonizing over.

Especially not when the AIs were throwing around terms like promiscuous.

Me?

Excuse me.
I’d show them my paid history of 19+ novels and educate them on what that word really means.

Anyway.

I watched the other girls struggle under the weight of their reviews.

The longer you stayed, the more it hurt.
No wonder newly joined users rushed to complete their storylines.
The more immersed you became, the more this place felt like reality.

And that’s when the pain started to feel real.

Maybe that’s why the possessed heroines in web novels always ended up mentally drained.

The fantasy world they used to escape reality?
Became the new reality.

I exhaled and forced myself out of bed.

Once this war ends, I’ll choose a male lead.

Either Allen or Alex.

But… are they really my best options?

I buried my face in my hands.

Why didn’t I get a healing-type male lead?

It’s probably too late to slot in someone new.

I turned to the drawer beside my bed.

There was one male lead who wasn’t from a healing story, but still brought me comfort.
Just being near him made me feel lighter.

The problem was, he didn’t belong in this world.

My gaze dropped to the drawer.

Then, slowly, I opened it.

Inside lay a neatly folded white robe.

Johann.

I slammed it shut again.

I wasn’t ready to choose. But I couldn’t let go either.

They say completing a [Decision] logs you out for good.

If I log out, I’ll never see Johann again.

Sure, maybe we’d meet again in Season 2.

But even if we did, he wouldn’t remember me.

This was a beta test. Our data wouldn’t carry over.

I stared at the drawer for a long time.

Then opened it again.

The spring light poured in, illuminating the robe like snow under moonlight.

I stared out the window.

“Sir,” I whispered to the AI, “can I use scrolls in the Demon Realm? The teleportation ones—do they still work?”

【They can be used within Demon Clan territory without issue.】

“Are you sure? I lost some items when I crossed over before.”

【Because the Four Seasons Kingdom has no data for the Demon Realm, the scrolls don’t function unless manually coded. But if you’re in the Demon Realm, the code completes automatically.】

…Science, stop.

I didn’t understand half of that, but the gist was: scrolls work from here to there.

I asked a few more times, just to be sure.

Then I started packing.

Johann’s robe.
Ten teleportation scrolls.
A pen and notebook.
No backup plan.

I knew I might regret this, but if I didn’t go—if I didn’t keep my promise—I’d regret it more.

Even if there was only a 1% chance that Johann remembered me…
I had to try.

If I waited too long, the story might end.
And if it did, we’d never meet again.

The AI said a memory imprint starts when a male lead enters your slot.
And once that happens… something stays.

So tonight, I’d go. Quietly. Just once.

After dinner, as night settled in, I dressed warmly and approached the window.

I clasped my hands together.

“Please, let nothing go wrong.”

I wasn’t sure how far I’d need to walk to reach the teleportation boundary.
But I’d brought extra scrolls—just in case.

I left a note on the table:

“I’m heading to see the Summer Kingdom Emperor. Please don’t follow me.”

Technically not a lie.

If I was lucky, I’d return before Bjorn even found the note.

I flipped up my hood.

The parchment glowed faintly under the moonlight.

I closed my eyes.

Held my breath.

And tore the scroll in half.