The System's threat of "permanent soul deletion" felt like a physical weight in my chest. It wasn't a casual warning; it was a cold, absolute statement of fact. My newfound silk sheets and gilded room suddenly felt less like a sanctuary and more like an exquisitely decorated cage. I lay back on the plush mattress, staring at the canopy above, trying to process the sheer absurdity of it all. I was a villainess in a romance novel, and if I didn't perform a humiliating act at a garden party, my soul would be erased from existence.
An urgent, piercing alarm sounded in my head. "Warning: Task deadline approaching. Garden Party begins in 3 hours. Please prepare accordingly."
Right. The party. The stage where I was meant to act out my villainous role. I pushed myself out of the bed, the silk nightgown rustling softly. I was Selena now, daughter of a Marquis, and this was my life. I walked to a massive, ornate wardrobe, my reflection in the polished wood showing a face I didn't recognize. Selena's face. Perfectly oval with sharp, emerald-green eyes, a small, elegant nose, and lips that were a natural shade of rose. Her hair, a cascade of wavy, dark chocolate, was so lustrous it seemed to absorb the light. I had been given a stunning body, only to be forced to use it for petty cruelty.
A maid, a young woman with a round, kind face, knocked softly and entered. "My Lady, are you ready to prepare for the Duke's party?" she asked, her voice laced with a gentle deference.
"Yes, of course," I replied, my voice sounding a little stiff even to my own ears. I didn't know her name, but my memory, or rather, Selena's memory, supplied it instantly: Lily. The System was a tyrant, but it was at least efficient with information.
The next two hours were a whirlwind of activity. Lily and two other maids bustled around me, a silent, coordinated team of stylists. They helped me into a gown that was a work of art—a pale lavender silk that shimmered with embroidered silver flowers. It cinched at the waist, flaring out into a wide, flowing skirt. It was a dress that announced its presence, fitting for a villainess who was meant to make a scene. A silver necklace with a single, large amethyst pendant was clasped around my neck, and matching earrings dangled from my ears. They did my hair, pinning it up in an elegant chignon, leaving a few loose curls to frame my face.
"Task Progress: 10%. Preparation Complete." the System announced in my head.
I had to give it credit, the System had style. But even as I looked at my flawless reflection, all I felt was a cold dread. The girl in the mirror was a stranger, and she was about to be forced into a performance that went against every moral fiber of my being.
I made my way through the sprawling halls of the Valerius mansion, the sound of my heels clicking on the marble floor the only sound. My mind raced, searching for loopholes. The System said I had to "attempt" to humiliate the female lead. It didn't say I had to succeed. What if my attempt was so half-hearted it failed? What if I tried to trip her but pretended I was a clumsy klutz? What if I spilled a glass of water on her and then immediately apologized, groveling?
The System, as if reading my thoughts, chimed in, its voice chillingly neutral. "User 143, your mission parameters are clear. The humiliation must be effective and recognizable as a villainous act. Failure to meet the parameter will be considered noncompliance."
I sighed, defeated. The System was smarter than I was.
When I arrived at the Duke's estate, it was a masterpiece of manicured gardens and classical architecture. Guests, dressed in the finest silks and satins, milled about, chatting and laughing. I scanned the crowd, looking for the main characters. My internal map, provided by the System, pointed me toward the central gazebo. And there they were.
The female lead, Iris. The System had a habit of bolding important names. She was dressed in a simple, but beautiful, white dress. She looked gentle and kind, with warm brown hair and large, expressive eyes. She was a breath of fresh air amidst the opulent, suffocating displays of wealth. Beside her stood the male lead, Duke Cedric. He was everything the manhwa described him as: tall, with broad shoulders, sharp features, and an aura of intense power. He was a classic cold duke, the kind who only melts for the female lead. At this point in the plot, he was only mildly interested in Iris. It was my job to change that.
"Task: Approach the female lead, Iris. Initiate the humiliation attempt. Reward: 50 points."
My feet felt like lead, but they moved forward on their own accord. My muscles tensed, my jaw set. I was nothing but a puppet on strings. As I drew closer, Iris's eyes met mine, and a faint smile formed on her lips. She didn't know who I was, but she looked ready to greet me politely. The villainess within me, however, had other plans.
"Iris," the name tasted like poison on my tongue. "What a beautiful dress. It's so… simple. I suppose one must make do with what they have." My voice was laced with a venomous sweetness, a tone I never thought I could produce. The words were a direct quote from the manhwa's script.
A gasp went through the small crowd surrounding them. Iris's smile faltered, replaced by a look of hurt confusion. Duke Cedric's eyes, which had been bored moments before, snapped to me, his gaze as sharp as a sword. I felt a pang of guilt, a deep, burning shame for the words I had been forced to utter.
"Task Progress: 50%. Humiliation attempt in progress. Please proceed to the conclusion of the scene."
The script dictated that I should now escalate, perhaps by pouring a drink on her or making a comment about her parentage. But I couldn't. The moment I had spoken those words, my own will snapped back into place. I could feel the System's frustration. A sharp jolt of pain shot through my head.
"Warning: Deviation from plot detected. User must follow the script exactly. Failure to comply will result in a penalty."
"I..." My mind raced. How could I make this right? I had to find a way to apologize without triggering the System's wrath. I needed to twist the script.
"I mean to say," I began, my voice a little shaky, "that the simplicity of your dress makes its true beauty shine. It's an elegant choice." The words weren't in the script. They were my own. They were a flimsy, desperate attempt to undo the damage I'd just done.
The System's voice was now furious. "Plot Deviation. Penalty initiated. Pain Protocol engaged."
A searing, burning pain erupted in my head, unlike the jolts before. It felt like my very brain was being torn apart. I staggered, my hand flying to my head, and in my pain-addled state, my foot caught on a loose cobblestone. I tumbled forward, the momentum causing me to crash directly into Iris. The glass of wine I had been holding, meant for a different purpose in the original plot, flew from my hand and spilled all over her simple white dress, staining it a deep, ugly red.
A new screen appeared before my eyes, glowing with a cruel, satisfied red.
"Task Progress: 100%. Plot Point achieved. Reward: 50 points."
The System had won. My attempt to subvert its will had resulted in the very outcome it desired, only a hundred times more messy and humiliating for both of us. As I lay on the grass, a dizzying mix of pain and shame washing over me, I saw Duke Cedric rushing to Iris's side. He was no longer looking at me with annoyance, but with a cold, protective fury. He was looking at her with concern.
I had failed in my attempt to defy the System, and in doing so, I had just pushed the main couple closer together, exactly as I was supposed to.
My second life was no longer my own. It was a stage, and I was a villainess on a leash, doomed to follow a script I hated, even when I fought with every fiber of my being. I now knew for certain that the System wasn't my guide. It was my prison warden.