The year I met Nathaniel was the darkest period of my life.
My parents divorced, and neither of them wanted me.
The only person in the world who was kind to me died that winter.
After being diagnosed with depression, when I held a knife and considered stabbing myself in the abdomen for the first time, the system found me.
It told me that if I completed a mission for it, helping it meet its KPI, I could earn a reward.
My eyelids quivered as I asked it, "Can you bring the dead back to life?"
The system was absolutely certain: "Of course."
It gave me a few days to choose my target personally.
But I couldn't muster interest in anyone.
Until I met Nathaniel at the National Cemetery, where he sat on the long staircase, spring rain dampening the strands of hair above his forehead.
He didn't speak or cry, just sat there quietly.
The breeze blew past the willow branches; standing nearby, I stared at the teardrop mole at the corner of his eye for a long time.
Then I gently said to the system, "I choose him."
"His difficulty level is high, and before you—" The system hesitated, reminding me, "Several other players were eliminated due to failure. Are you sure?"
I nodded firmly.
The system couldn't persuade me otherwise and, reluctantly, applied for three attempts for me.
The higher the difficulty coefficient, the more attempts were allowed.
From that day on, I spent time observing Nathaniel and discovered that he was polite and courteous to everyone.
But strangely, this person, upon first seeing me, spoke rudely:
"Tsk, tell me! Did you twist your ankle, or are you just throwing yourself at me?"
I was taken aback.
He squinted at me and scoffed:
"What are you pretending for?"
"A woman like you, even if you stood naked in front of me, I wouldn't like you."
At the time, I didn't understand what he meant.
Now I think he must have realized I was a player at that moment.
Otherwise, why would he be so hostile towards me?
Later, I stayed close to him but kept a distance.
Once, his friend called me, saying he had a stomachache and asking me to bring medicine.
When I arrived, I saw him sitting energetically on the sofa.
He asked me, "Why are you here again? You're like a curse that won't lift."
I pursed my lips, didn't say anything, and handed him the medicine.
He didn't take it, instead leaning closer to whisper in my ear:
"Since you're here, let me buy you a drink, okay?"
As he spoke, my vision blurred.
Red wine poured over my head, soaking my chest along my cheeks.
Summer clothes are thin, even the color of the straps was visible.
Nathaniel glanced at me provocatively, seemingly more angry when I showed no reaction:
"Being humiliated like this and watched by so many people, Elara, don't you have any self-respect?"
Only then did I look up at him.
Flickering lights shone on his face like clear wind breezing and bright moon shining, the teardrop mole at the corner of his eye seemed about to fall.
In that instant, I opened my mouth but couldn't utter a single word of rebuttal.
It's hard to imagine that such a person would later agree to be with me.
It was a street racing competition.
Nathaniel unexpectedly gave me an invitation.
When I arrived, I saw him on the podium, holding two sexy model girls.
Our eyes met, and he smiled at me.
So wicked.
Then, under my watchful gaze, he slowly kissed their lips.
"Didn't you want to be with me? Do you still want to now?"
After leaving the stage, he asked me this.
I wiped the lipstick off the corner of his mouth and said without hesitation, "Yes."
He looked at me for a long time, his eyes dark and unreadable.
Suddenly, he grabbed my wrist and pointed at a nearby race car, asking me fiercely:
"Dare you play a game of 'Life or Death Speed'? If you win, we'll be together."
The rules of 'Life or Death Speed' are wild.
Two cars collide; whoever brakes first loses.
Everyone sighed.
Several girls tried to smooth things over for me:
"Ah, forget it, Elara doesn't have any experience. Aren't you forcing her to risk her life?"
"Yeah, don't let her get hurt."
Nathaniel was unmoved, while I looked up at his face and slowly said, "Sure!"
The man's pupils constricted sharply, something flashing in his eyes.
I couldn't tell what it was.
In any case, in that match, he was the one who braked first.
Getting out of the car, my stomach churned, and I stumbled and knelt on the ground.
Nathaniel angrily threw his helmet, pulled me up, and roared at me:
"Are you trying to kill yourself?"
And I just looked at him calmly and asked:
"Can we be together now?"
His eyes reddened, and he was silent for a long while.
And thus, we naturally began dating for two years.
Everyone said I was madly in love with Nathaniel.
But whenever he heard this, he always stared at me intently, his thin lips curling into a mocking smile.
"Love?"
"These women are the best liars."
"She doesn't love me."
I lowered my eyes and didn't say anything.
After that, he often brought women home to test my limits and would threaten to break up with me to force me to give in.
Later, Mia returned from abroad.
Three times, a choice between two.
Each time, I died because of Nathaniel's choice.
Each time I died, the world restarted.
Until I used up my last attempt and could no longer be reborn.
If you think about it carefully, how could a target, knowing everything, possibly have sympathy for a player with insincere feelings?
In the end, I was just too naive.
