Mia Grant was the only one left in the living room.
Yates Donovan had gone out.
The food she’d ordered still hadn’t arrived. Although she had already eaten dinner, she had also ordered ice cream.
Yates Donovan had offered to go get it for her.
He had probably also sensed that the atmosphere between them was a little off.
’It’s good to give each other so space to process things.’
She had to admit, the two of them were really alike.
It was like they could read each other’s minds.
Sitting on the rug, Mia Grant fell backward, leaning against the sofa and sighing heavily as she stared at the ceiling.
When Yates Donovan left, he had turned on all the lights in the room.
He was so thoughtful, afraid she’d be scared on her own. He’d taken every precaution.
Normally, he wouldn’t have left under these circumstances.
It was clear he needed space for independent thought even more urgently than she did.
’He knows everything.’
No matter how many tis he asked, her answer would only ever be that one sentence: "This is just a dream."
So, he had chosen to investigate on his own.
Even in a situation like the one just now, he had resisted the urge to ask.
Mia Grant sighed again.
She was regretting it.
’I shouldn’t have brought it up if I’d known...’
She called out the system. "I now believe he’s the one from the original book who has awakened."
If things continued like this, Yates Donovan would find out very soon.
Of course, he wouldn’t be able to find any actual proof.
But he was very smart. When all roads lead to a dead end, isn’t there only one answer left?
Or perhaps, another possibility.
It was like that saying from Sherlock Hols: once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.
"In the original book, when did he awaken?"
[When the plot of the entire book is two-thirds of the way through.]
"Two-thirds..." Mia Grant nodded. "That’s still a while from now."
[But if things continue like this, I’m afraid his awakening will be moved up.]
"Will that have an impact?"
[The female lead can only die at the hands of the original novel’s killer, and only at the ti specified in the original plot.]
[Other than that, other actions will not constitute a major impact.]
Mia Grant humd in acknowledgnt and continued to think. ’That’s good, then.’
The system was silent for a long ti before speaking again: [There is sothing I hope the Host will be ntally prepared for.]
Her eyelashes trembled. Mia Grant said, "Go on."
[Even if Yates Donovan’s corruption value cannot be detected, his potential for harm cannot be ruled out. He is highly unpredictable. The slightest carelessness could turn him into a huge problem.]
[Although I just said that as long as it doesn’t affect Serena Grant’s ending, it won’t cause a major impact, if he continues to cause disturbances after an early awakening, he will be judged as a dangerous individual... The possibility of erasing this character cannot be ruled out.]
"..."
"He’s the male lead."
The system corrected her: [He is only one of the male leads.]
Mia Grant was at a loss for words.
[I’m sorry, Host, but this is not my decision.]
"I know." Mia Grant rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Ultimately, the problem lies with . I lost control for a mont... Is there any way to undo this?"
[No. From now on, the Host can only proceed with caution.]
"So, being erased ans... he won’t exist anymore?"
[Correct. In the future, he will not appear, and all previous traces of him will also be erased. Including from the Host’s mory.]
[This character has no corruption value, so he poses little threat to us in the early stages. Therefore, if he continues to exhibit uncontrollable behavior later on, erasing him is a more stable option for the plotline than keeping him.]
After a long silence, Mia Grant asked, "Why was I chosen in the first place? Was it just because we have the sa na?"
[That is only one of the reasons.]
"What’s the specific reason, then? Because I was pitiful?"
[The Host can understand it as: you were not fated to die.]
[Your life force is very resilient, and you are very suitable. We believed you would complete the mission of the villainess exceptionally well.]
Mia Grant’s lips curled. "A pity I ssed everything up."
[No, it is my fault. I did not appear in ti.]
"Mhm, you’re right. It’s your fault, then."
[...]
The atmosphere lightened considerably. Mia Grant gave up thinking, picked up the remote, and continued watching the movie.
Yates Donovan was taking a long ti to return.
Mia Grant was even starting to wonder if he’d used the opportunity to slip away.
The mont the doorbell rang, Mia Grant imdiately threw down the remote and got up to open the door.
"Coming!"
"Stop ringing it! It’s so annoying."
"I said, stop—"
The door opened. Mia Grant looked up, full of irritation, and in the next second, her expression froze. "...Bro... Brother?"
Standing outside was Silas Grant, who had just gotten off a plane.
The man wore a knee-length black coat. He must have gotten out of the car in a hurry, as a few snowflakes still lingered on his shoulders and in his hair.
His glasses, however, were perfectly clear, not fogged up at all.
Mia Grant stared, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.
What she didn’t know was that Silas Grant had always paid ticulous attention to his appearance.
Two minutes earlier, he had been adjusting his clothes in the hallway. The second before he rang the doorbell, he had hastily put on his wiped-clean glasses.
It was just that he hadn’t brought anyone with him this ti, and there were no mirrors in the hallway.
So, he hadn’t noticed the snowflakes on his clothes.
At the doorway, the man’s dark eyes narrowed slightly behind his lenses. He smiled and said, "Aren’t you going to invite in?"
Only then did Mia Grant snap back to reality, stepping aside to let him pass. "Ah, brother, co in."
The mont he stepped into the room, like a beast surveying its territory, Silas Grant’s gaze sharpened behind his lenses as he silently swept his eyes across the living room.
"Sit over here." Mia Grant led him toward the sofa.
Silas Grant walked over but didn’t sit down right away. His gaze fell upon the wrinkles on the sofa, the scattered snacks on the floor, and the leftover food on the table.
He nonchalantly withdrew his gaze and took off his coat.
Mia Grant naturally took it and placed it on the armchair to the side. Then, as he bent down to sit, she reached out and gently brushed his hair.
When Silas Grant looked up in surprise, she froze for a second before explaining, "There’s snow on it. It’ll get cold."
Silas Grant’s lips curled. He took her hand from the top of his head and held it in his.
With a slight pull, Mia Grant found herself sitting on his lap.
It had been a long ti since they had been this close.
Then again, maybe it hadn’t been that long. But to Mia Grant, her ti in Portia already felt like it had happened in another century.
She forgot to struggle. She probably didn’t want to, anyway.
She did have a lot of questions for him, and she felt that Silas Grant had a lot to say to her as well.
"The old gentleman passed away. Weren’t you busy with the funeral, brother? And the business handover... You must be swamped, right? How did you have ti to co here?"
"Is everything taken care of?"
"Just a few trivial matters left. Don’t worry." The man raised a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from her forehead.
"Today is the Little New Year. I originally planned to co back and have dinner with you, but the weather was bad, and we had to make a diversion to another city."
"Then how did you get here?"
"I drove."
"..." Mia Grant was stunned.
"By yourself?"
"Mhm."
"The driver or Eric didn’t co with you?"
"No. It would’ve taken a while for any driver I know to get here. I have to go back tomorrow morning, so I didn’t want to waste too much ti on the road."
What Mia Grant didn’t know was that the man before her had gone through a rebellious phase right after turning eighteen and had even spent two years as a race car driver.
Her soft gaze made Silas Grant’s heart itch. He lifted her chin, about to kiss her.
Suddenly, his eyes fixated on a mark on her lips.
Mia Grant, not knowing what was wrong, blinked and looked at him in confusion.
She only heard her dear brother let out an abrupt laugh, his thumb pressing against her lip. "They always like to leave their marks on your lips."
User Comments
0 comments from readers