Hardly Game Over

Taking his place on the throne, the King crowned his golden girl his queen.

I, on the other hand, was granted two choices—retire from court with a hefty fortune or be his kept mistress in the dark.

Choosing neither, I hung myself on the clothesline right outside the laundress quarters.

I had been sent back twenty years in time, tasked by the System to conquer four targets. I’d just blown the last target and my final chance to complete the quest.

The System notified me that following the death of my flesh, my consciousness would return to the modern world, back to the arms of my family.

Just as I closed my eyes, the desperate cries of my name caught my attention.

I grabbed the sturdiest belt by the washbasin, tied it into a silly bow, and hung myself from the clothesline.

Fearing my first attempt wasn’t lethal enough, I added another knot for good measure.

The System promised that if I died in this body within seven days, I’d be granted three months back in my original world to be with my family.

With zero attachment to this world, I kicked the stool under my feet.

The noose cinched tight, cutting the air off my lungs.

In my hazy, bloodshot vision, memories of this world played before my eyes like scenes from a movie.

I was a transmigrator from another world. By conquering any of the four male targets, I could get my life back, where I had died in a car crash.

The targets assigned to me by the System were great catches, all heroes in their own right. However, thanks to the heroine, they hated my guts and saw me as a sworn enemy.

Now that I’d failed the mission, the only way out was death. At least, these men would be free of me, too.

As I closed my eyes, someone screamed my name.

After a violent coughing fit, a hand grabbed my chin.

A devastatingly gorgeous face loomed over me, complete with the familiar teardrop mole at the corner of his eye.

“Lucian?”

Remorse washed over me the moment the name left my lips.

Lucian Baler was no longer my fragile crybaby of a protégé.

Sure enough, Lucian recoiled in disgust when I spoke his name.

“Watch your tongue. My name isn’t yours to speak.”

The man in a red robe was the youngest High Chancellor in the kingdom and one of my four targets.

Back then, I had been living on the streets before House Thornfield came for me.

On a rainy day, I stumbled upon a boy on the brink of starvation.

The only food I had was half a piece of bread, and I gave it to him. Since then, the boy clung to me like a shadow, and I couldn’t get rid of him.

He was once a sheltered young heir of a noble lineage until his family was slaughtered under false charges.

Sure, I was down on my luck. At