Chapter2
1067 Words
The attic room was exactly as Annabeth remembered it: cramped, smelled of dust and cobwebs, and tucked away at the end of a narrow hallway where the central heating barely reached. In her previous life, she had spent nights here crying, wondering what she had done wrong to be relegated to the servants' quarters while Arisa slept in a suite with a walk-in closet and a small-room-apartment-size bathroom.
Now, Annabeth was simply sitting on the edge of the rusty iron bed, watching the dust motes dance in the dim light.
"System, show me today's status report."
A sweet, synthetic voice drifted through the thin walls from the floor below. Annabeth froze. It wasn't her system—she didn't have one. It was Arisa’s.
[Host's Favorability Rating with Julius Qin: 95%. Soren Qin: 92%. Current 'Luck' Points: 4,500. Warning: A slight fluctuation detected in the anomaly, 'Annabeth Qin".]
Annabeth gripped the bedsheets. So I'm just an anomaly. That’s all she was to that thing.
A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Arisa stepped in, holding a garment bag made of shimmering gold silk. She looked like a fairy godmother, her face glowing with that same artificial, hypnotic radiance. Her smile as pure as jade. But Annabeth knew that underneath her sweet and innocent demeanor lies a manipulative snake. A pure white lotus b*tch.
"Sister? I know Dad said you should stay here since you're not ready yet, but I felt so bad," Arisa pouted, her eyes glistening with crocodile tears. "The Lin Group Gala is so important. I brought you one of my old dresses. It’s a bit... vibrant, but it’s better than those rags you arrived in."
Annabeth looked at the bag. In her first life, she had worn this dress—a neon-pink, over-the-top frilly monstrosity that made her look like a clown. At the gala, she had been the laughingstock of the city, cementing her reputation as the "uncultured country bumpkin" of the Qin family.
"How thoughtful," Annabeth said, her voice dripping with sarcasm which Arisa was too arrogant and too stupid to catch.
"I’ll leave it here! Just put it on and sneak into the back of the car. I’ll tell the brothers I 'persuaded' you," Arisa winked, blowing a kiss before skipping out.
Annabeth opened the bag. The dress was even uglier than she remembered, and the side seam was intentionally loosened so it would rip the moment she sat down. It was only small, but changes are actually happening. Is this what they call the butterfly effect?
Suddenly, a small, black USB stick fell out of the folds of the pink fabric. It wasn't there in her previous life. Did Arisa put this? No. She's too stupid and arrogant to put something like this inside the dress.
Annabeth frowned and walked over to an old, discarded laptop in the corner of the attic. She turned on the laptop and checked to see whether it was working or not. Seeing that it was working just fine, she plugged the USB in.
A single file appeared: REWRITE_VAR_01.mp4
She clicked play. The screen stayed black, but a voice—distorted, mechanical, yet unmistakably familiar—spoke through the speakers.
"The pink dress is laced with a chemical irritant called formaldehyde. If you wear it, you’ll be scratching your skin off before the first toast. Look under the floorboard beneath the vanity. Don't be a side character or mere NPC, Annabeth. They’re boring to watch. You're the only one who can entertain me."
The video ended, and the file deleted itself instantly.
Annabeth’s heart was hammered. Anna, she's helping me out again despite her unusual personality. She knelt by the vanity and pried up the loose wood. Tucked inside was a sleek, minimalist box. Inside was a dress that was the polar opposite of Arisa’s trap: a floor-length, deep charcoal gown made of liquid silk. It was modest, elegant, and screamed "old money"—the kind of style the Qin family pretended to have but never quite mastered.
Attached was a small note in jagged, messy handwriting:
Black suits you better. It hides the bloodstains. Don't let everyone else see your weakness. Otherwise, they'll tear you down before you can even start climbing your way up.
......
Two hours later, the Qin family was gathered in the foyer, ready to depart. Arisa was the center of attention, wearing a white gown that made her look like a pure, untouched lily.
"Where is that brat?" Father Qin asked, checking his watch. "I hope she’s stayed in the attic as she was told."
"I'm sure she's just resting, Father," Arisa said, a small, triumphant smirk playing on her lips. She was likely waiting for her System to notify her of Annabeth's humiliation.
Suddenly, the sound of heels clicking against the marble stairs echoed through the hall.
The family turned. Julius opened his mouth to bark an insult, but the words died in his throat.
Annabeth descended the stairs. The charcoal dress hugged her frame perfectly, making her look tall, regal, and dangerously composed. Her hair, which had been a mess earlier, was swept up into a sleek bun, revealing the sharp, aristocratic jawline she had inherited from the Qin bloodline—a line Arisa didn't share and never will.
"You—" Julius stammered. "Where did you get that?"
"I found it hidden," Annabeth said smoothly, walking past them toward the door. "It was a bit dusty but I cleaned it and it still looked good. I figured if I'm to represent the family, I shouldn't look like a charity case."
Arisa’s face paled. Her Fate Swap aura flickered, the golden light dimming for a split second as her eyes darted to the empty garment bag in the corner of her mind.
[Warning], the mechanical voice whispered in Arisa's ear, though only Annabeth saw Arisa flinch. [Host's 'Main Character' dominance is being contested. Favorability ratings dropping 2% due to visual contrast.]
From the shadows of the second-floor balcony, a pair of blue-light oval glasses glinted in the dark. Anna Qin stood there, a tteokbokki mini bowl in her hand, watching the scene play out.
She didn't cheer. She didn't wave. She simply tapped her temple with one finger as Annabeth glanced up.
The game is on, Annabeth thought, stepping into the night air. And this time, I’m the one winning between the two of us.
- Writer
