One group was the veteran players, while I found myself in the new player group. We were all panicking like rats in a sinking ship.
Amid the chaos, I spotted my roommate, Aleena Bullock, now standing with the experienced players.
It was Memorial Day today. Aleena and I had gone up the mountain to pay respects to our ancestors.
On the way back, the bus overturned, and we fell down the mountain.
The next thing I knew, I woke up here.
Before I could voice my doubts, a young man in white stepped into the new player group.
“Alright, everyone, calm down! This game is tough, but I believe that as long as we work together, we can make it out of here. We veteran players will guide you. You just need to follow our lead.”
Everyone instantly seemed to have found their anchor. But in the places I couldn’t see, a stream of comments flooded the live chat.
“OMG! Look who it is! Delicious is here! My white-clad Prince Charming!”
“With Delicious here, even a nine-star difficulty level should be a breeze!”
“He’s so nice. He always helps new players. They’re set with him in the team!”
I couldn’t see the comments. I was just squeezed into the crowd, listening as the young man in white explained the game.
From his words, I learned that some people who died unexpectedly were brought into this Death Game. If they managed to clear the level, they could extend their lives in the real world. In other words, this was a second chance at life, granted by God.
Suddenly, the system’s announcement echoed again. “Please select your skill and pair up with a partner.”
The moment the announcement ended, a flurry of golden cards flashed through my mind. I waved my hand mentally.
A gray card landed on my head. It read, “Mind-reading.”
The comments flooded the live chat again.
“Did you see that? The young lady got the lowest-level skill.”
“I bet ten bags of chips she’ll be the first to die today.”
I couldn’t see the comments, but I noticed that when people saw my skill card, they all stepped back and avoided my gaze.
I quickly counted. There were 21 players in total, meaning one person would be left without a partner.
Just then, the system initiated a 30-minute countdown to form teams.
Naturally, everyone started pairing with someone they knew.
When I tried to find Aleena, she was being rejected by the young man in white. The moment our eyes met, she looked away. Then she lifted her dress and hooked her arm around a muscular man.
Judging by his build, he was much more muscular than the fitness trainer.
Aleena wasn’t stupid. In a dangerous game like this, finding a reliable partner was definitely important.
“Sorry, Heidi. I already have a partner. You should find someone else,” she squeaked, her tone utterly fake.
As she spoke, the muscular man noticed me. He suddenly shook off Aleena and walked toward me with a lecherous grin.
I took a step back in fear, unable to say a word.
I had a habit. Whenever I got nervous, I would freeze up, my mouth tightening, while my mind raced at lightning speed.
This meant that in moments of danger, all I could do was curse in my head a thousand times while waiting for my inevitable doom with a smile.
What I didn’t know was that my mind-reading skill was not the kind where I read others’ thoughts. It was the kind where others could read mine.
Right then, everyone—the players, the boss, the viewers—could hear everything I was thinking.
As the muscular man approached me, my legs stiffened, but my brain was running wild, thinking, “I remember Aleena saying that big guys tend to have small manhood.”
The man’s face immediately turned dark as he glared venomously at Aleena. But my thoughts didn’t stop.
“Aleena only went for this guy after the white-shirted guy rejected her. Haha! A backburner even in a game!”
The man’s nostrils flared, but I kept going.
“Such a poor guy, being chosen by Aleena. She’s cursed! My great-grandma always said that anyone who gets close to her is doomed!”
The man couldn’t take it anymore, and the comments couldn’t hold back either.
A flood of laughter scrolled across the live chat. That was when I realized everyone was watching me with gleeful expressions.
Aleena ran over, trying to pull the big guy away, but he slapped her hard. “Cursed woman, get away from me!”
Cursed woman? How did he know Aleena’s nickname?
Could they know that her first boyfriend died in a car crash, her second jumped off a building, and her third twisted his ankle on a crosswalk, only to get hit by a car and fly 60 feet?
Someone in the crowd burst out laughing.
Only Aleena, fuming with rage, shot me a death glare before slapping me.
