After getting my 100th rejection from a publisher, I splurged $5.99 on a budget meal deal. A full plate with meat, veggies, and soup—once I was stuffed, I passed out satisfied. When I woke up, all I saw was a glowing orb calling itself the "Meal Deal System." "Congratulations! You’re our 99,999,999th customer—you’ve won a book-jumping experience!" I refused outright, saying I’d rather go back to my tiny apartment and keep writing. The system’s cold voice hit back: "You can barely afford to eat in real life. Maybe you’ll figure out why your drafts keep getting rejected if you live inside one." Before I could argue, I was tossed into one of my own rejected short drama scripts— the ones that never stood a chance of getting published. Worse? The system’s task for me was to play the female lead in every single one of my flop drafts. Me: "……"