LIFE FORCE CRITICAL
716 Words
Principal Zhao’s smile deepened with genuine warmth. Whatever changed this girl—it’s a blessing. Extreme sensitivity shackled potential far more than any exam score ever could. Character mattered more than trophies.
"Good! No thanks needed. My door’s always open—whether you need help or just advice. After three years, don’t be a stranger."
Samantha froze. Strict? Yes. Dedicated? Absolutely. But familiar? Never.
The realization hit: This distance wasn’t his failure. It was hers.
That girl from before—
She’d worn her pride like brittle armor, flinching from kindness as if it were acid. Only life’s repeated beatings taught her the truth:
Sometimes, you had to shed pride to survive.
"I understand, Principal Zhao. Truly, thank you." She drew a steadying breath. "But there’s one more thing..."
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. No more tiptoeing around this landmine of a student. What a relief.
"Spit it out, Cole. No ceremonies."
"Please don’t announce me as county champion. Don’t contact my family. Especially about... the money."
"My parents always favored boys. They dumped me at relatives' house as a kid. Said they’d sell me off once I finished middle school. They’ll never let me keep studying."
Principal Zhao’s knuckles went white on the chair arm. *"It’s goddamn 2006! How are people still this medieval-minded?"* He caught himself, voice dropping. "You’re the county champion. Most parents would kill for that."
Samantha kept her eyes down. A calculated pause.
"Cough. Right. School will contact you, not them. If your parents call? 'Never heard of her.'"
"Thank you, sir... They won’t call. They probably forgot I graduated this year."
She let her voice hitch. Play the wounded fawn when predators are watching.
This life? She’d bleed for no one but herself.
After Zhao left to handle the paperwork, Samantha stayed. Eyes closed. Inventory:
Shelter: Expired (graduated = no dorm)
Belongings: Already rotting at Uncle’s farm
Cash: 26 yuan. Plus this hole in my pocket.
A hum escaped her lips.
Unbroken bones.
No poison in these veins.
Just hunger she could fix.
Last life taught her this:
Trust family?
Not even at death’s door.
"Heya, host-dude?"
A chirpy voice exploded in Samantha’s skull. She shot up from the chair, scanning the empty classroom.
*"Ahem! Allow me to introduce myself—Life Extension System, codename: Hush! Bound to you at death’s door. Your 'welcome back' gift? That sweet 20-year rewind!"*
Relief warred with disbelief. This luck felt... stolen.
Before she could speak, Hush breezed on:
"Check your dashboard for deets. This system’s got places to be! Pro tip: Don’t stress—I’m not here to win 'System of the Year.' Bound you ’cause the job required it. Worst case? They scrap me for parts. Soooo... living my best life while I can! Wonder if Cha-Ching and Fat Stacks saved enough energy for hotpot..."
A holographic panel materialized:
text
[ SYSTEM USER AGREEMENT ]
...
...
[ WARNING ]
CURRENT LIFESPAN: **6d 23h 49m 48s**
>
Samantha’s breath caught. Of course there was a price.
A perverse relief settled over her. Free gifts always hid sharper hooks.
Her fingers flew to the TASKS tab.
EMPTY.
After a tense pause, Samantha spoke into the emptiness:
"Hush? You there? I’ll do the tasks... but the list is blank."
"Oopsie! Forgot the fun part!" Hush’s voice chimed like a glitching ice cream truck. Samantha’s jaw clenched. You forgot LIFE-OR-DEATH STUFF?!
"Ahem! NEW MISSION UNLOCKED:"
DAILY GRIND:
» Study 1 hour
» Train 1 hour
REWARDS:
✓ +7 days lifespan
✓ Newbie Survival Kit
FAILURE: 😬 No goodies!
Samantha stared at the hologram.
"This... is your world-saving task?"
Confusion rippled through Hush’s digital tone: "I’m a fully certified System! Level 3.2 compliant! Task generation algorithm passed—"
Samantha cut in, voice thick:
"I thought you’d demand blood diamonds. Or a drug cartel’s head. I was ready to die before betraying the cop who died for me..."
A broken laugh escaped her. The simplicity was the knife twist:
Tasks that actually helped her?
A system that rewarded survival?
Tears scalded her eyes. Hot. Unstoppable.
"Whoa! Code Red!" Hush’s voice spiked in panic. "Is the mission too hard? Take a sick day! Double bonus! Just— please don’t leak saline all over my interface!"
........
- Writer
