Chapter 2 — A Nightmareful Night, 2
The mansion was silent, too silent.
Jin Soowhi sat on the edge of his leather couch, hunched forward, elbows digging into his knees. The city outside was still dripping with rain, its neon glow bleeding into the wide windows of his home, but the sound of water wasn't enough to cool the fire inside his chest. His words from the restaurant still burned in the air — curses he had spat with every ounce of venom in his lungs.
And yet, the rage refused to leave him. It coiled tighter and tighter, a serpent sinking its fangs deeper with every thought of her laughter, of her excuses, of her cowardly face begging across the table.
He rubbed at his temples, forcing a breath through his teeth. He needed release. Something to smash, something to curse, something to burn.
And his eyes drifted across the room.
To his gaming rig.
Three curved monitors glowed faintly in sleep mode, their LED rims pulsing like veins. A mechanical keyboard sat beneath them, black and red, its keys gleaming as though waiting to be pressed. His high-end tower hummed quietly, its fans like the steady breath of a monster waiting to be awakened.
For a moment, he hesitated. His fists clenched. No. Not that game. Not tonight.
But his body betrayed him. His hand reached anyway, flicking the power switch.
The beast came alive. Fans roared. LEDs blazed. The monitors flashed into color. And there it was.
The cursed icon sitting on his desktop.Love & Chains: Eternal Hearts.
A logo he despised — delicate letters in gold script, curling roses entwined around them, droplets of ruby like blood disguised as petals. And smiling at the corner of the splash art, with her eyes wide and shining, her lips in that idiotic open-mouthed grin, was the FMC herself.
Jin felt his stomach twist. He wanted to punch the screen just for her face.
His finger trembled above the mouse. "You think you're untouchable, don't you?" he muttered. "You think you're the world's gift, smiling like that."
Click.
The game exploded into color and music. Strings swelled. A chime like wedding bells echoed. The screen bloomed with roses.
Love blooms eternal. Chains never break.
The tagline scrolled across the screen in cursive. Jin spat on the floor.
"Chains never break? Bullshit."
He clicked Load Save.
The screen dimmed, petals falling away. A loading bar crept forward, scattering butterflies that sparkled as they flew.
And then the cutscene began.
A glittering ballroom spread across the screen. Chandeliers rained golden light onto marble floors. The FMC stood in the middle, her pink dress fanning out like a sugary explosion, her hair bouncing in curls that shimmered with an unnatural shine. She had her hands clasped at her chest, her eyes wide, her mouth parted in a little gasp of awe.
"Oh, wow!" she said, her voice high and breathy. "This party is amazing! I can't believe they invited me!"
Jin's lip curled. "Invited you because the script said so, you stupid cow."
The camera panned, revealing one of the male leads: Damian LeCroix, the golden-haired prince type, draped in velvet and jewels. He stepped toward her with a gentle smile, extending his hand.
"My dear, everything shines brighter with your presence."
The FMC giggled, cheeks pink. "You're sooo sweet, Damian!"
Jin leaned forward, his knuckles white against the armrest. "Sweet? He has a fiancée, you homewrecking parasite."
Right on cue, the cutscene's camera shifted. At the edge of the ballroom stood Damian's fiancée — Clara Valen, the ex-girlfriend character of this arc. She was beautiful, poised, a young woman with quiet dignity and steel in her eyes. She smiled politely, holding a champagne glass, but her shoulders sagged with an invisible weight.
Her thoughts, scripted into narration, whispered through the speakers. I love him. I always have. But lately, it feels like he looks past me… like I'm fading out of his heart.
Jin's throat tightened. His pulse throbbed.
Damian turned his back to Clara, leading the FMC to the center of the floor. Music swelled as they danced, the crowd applauding. Clara's champagne glass trembled in her grip.
Maybe I'm not enough anymore, her narration said softly. Maybe I was only here to hold his place until someone brighter appeared.
Jin slammed his fist on the desk. The monitors rattled.
"She's perfect! She's loyal! She gave him everything, and you—" he jabbed a finger at the FMC's spinning figure, "—you prancing slutty bitch, you take it all away because you bat your lashes like an idiot!"
The cutscene twisted the knife further. Clara slipped outside into the cold night, narration dripping sorrow. If he's happy with her, maybe I should let him go…
The screen dimmed. Fireworks exploded over the ballroom behind her, Damian laughing with the FMC in his arms.
And Clara cried alone.
Jin's jaw shook with fury. "This fucking game. It destroys the good ones just to glorify her. Every. Damn. Time."
The save file progressed to the next arc. Another male lead. Another conquest. Another victim.
This time, it was Elias Vaughn, the brooding swordsman. The FMC clung to him in a rainstorm cutscene, her voice shrill with feigned bravery. "Don't push me away, Elias! I'll heal your broken heart with my love!"
Elias's ex stood in the doorway of his training hall, drenched, her eyes wide with disbelief as she watched. She had followed him for years, tending his wounds, sharpening his blades, feeding him when he was too exhausted to eat. And here he was, holding another woman like the ex never existed.
The narration was cruel. I was just a shadow. A stepping stone. Someone to prepare him for her light.
Jin's fingernails dug into his palms. Blood beaded.
"A shadow? No, you were his spine. His reason to keep standing! And he throws you away because the script handed him a whining brat in a pink dress?!"
His voice echoed in the mansion, bouncing off marble floors and glass walls. There was no one to hear it. No one but him.
And still, the game mocked him.
The FMC beamed through every scene, her clueless smile unshaken, as if the ex-girlfriends' pain were nothing but scenery.
By the time he reached the latest chapter of his save, Jin was shaking. His whole body buzzed with fury, every muscle tensed like a spring about to snap. His reflection in the glass of the monitor didn't look human anymore. It looked feral.
The FMC stood in yet another victory pose, surrounded by the glowing stares of male leads, her giggle cutting through the speakers like a knife.
Jin's breath heaved. His chest burned. And then it broke out of him, raw and unfiltered, louder than he'd ever screamed in his mansion before:
"Curse this damn game!" His fist crashed against the desk. "Curse this damn life!" He shoved the keyboard aside. "Curse this fucking MC!" Spit flew from his lips. His voice cracked, veins bulging in his neck.
His final roar shook the room."Curse that slutty bitch—FUCKKKKKK!!!"
The words tore out of his throat, primal, violent, echoing through the cavernous mansion until they seemed to shake the glass itself.
The game kept playing. The FMC kept smiling. The roses kept blooming across the screen.
And Jin Soowhi sat there, trembling, his curses hanging heavy in the air like a storm no one could stop.