"Melody! Don't be arrogant! I am six months older than you! You are just an orphan with no family!" Rosemary shrieked, storming towards Melody with a venomous fury. She was clearly desperate to provoke a reaction, to expose what she perceived as Melody's fabricated confidence.
But instead of rising to the bait, Melody surprised Rosemary with an unexpected action. She casually reached for a glass of orange juice on a nearby table and slowly licked her lips, savoring the sweet citrus flavor before letting out a soft chuckle. The gesture was calculated to infuriate Rosemary further, to shatter her carefully constructed image of control.
Then, with a sudden shift in demeanor, Melody grabbed Rosemary by the collar of her shabby dress and forcefully threw her against the wall.
Melody's mind reeled as the barrage of comments continued to flood her vision. The sudden influx of external observation was jarring, a violation of the carefully controlled reality she'd become accustomed to.
{TangYuan what the fuck is going on?} Melody demanded, her voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and panic.
"Host, this world is a Legendary World, and countless people have died in… well, other players anyway," TangYuan replied, his tone surprisingly calm amidst the chaos.
"This is another way to earn points, host. These viewers are from the System Universe World."
Melody stared blankly at the swirling text messages, struggling to process the information. She had seen the System Universe World before, a sprawling nexus of interconnected realities where players from countless systems converged. It was a place of immense power and even greater danger, a realm where survival depended on cunning, strength, and an unwavering ability to adapt. She'd briefly visited it during her early days, drawn by the promise of greater rewards but quickly retreating due to the overwhelming intensity and ruthless competition.
The realization hit her with the force of a physical blow. This wasn't just some isolated mission; she was being observed, judged, and potentially exploited by an audience of system players from across the multiverse. The stakes had just been raised exponentially.
She blinked, forcing herself to regain control. The comments were still pouring in, a relentless stream of opinions and predictions about her actions.
The stream of comments intensified, a chaotic torrent of opinions, criticisms, and praise washing over Melody's consciousness. The initial shock had subsided, replaced by a simmering awareness of the audience watching her every move.
A flurry of bullet points began to appear, dissecting her actions with ruthless precision.
"She's holding back! Needs to be more ruthless!"
"Too much sweetness! Where's the villainess edge?"
"Seriously? Throwing her against the wall? That's it? Pathetic."
But amidst the negativity, a wave of supportive comments began to emerge, offering encouragement and admiration.
"Melody is killing it! Best villainess portrayal I've seen in ages!"
"She played that scene perfectly! The casual indifference is chilling."
"Go Melody!"
"Seriously, Rosemary got what she deserved! Don't hold back, girl!"
"The orange juice thing was genius! So subtle, so deliciously cruel."
Melody's lips curled into a slow, predatory smile. The criticism stung, but the praise fueled a newfound determination. She realized that these viewers weren't just passive observers; they were actively shaping her performance, influencing her trajectory within this world. And if she wanted to thrive, she needed to give them what they wanted – a truly captivating villainess.
She straightened her posture, radiating an aura of cold confidence that sent another shiver down Rosemary's spine. The vulnerability she had briefly displayed vanished completely, replaced by an icy detachment that was far more terrifying.
"It seems my performance isn't quite meeting expectations."
Melody, still subtly processing the bizarre experience of being observed by a systemwide audience, turned and gracefully walked back towards her luxurious bedroom. The weight of the situation settled upon her shoulders, a quiet determination hardening her gaze. She needed to regroup, to strategize, and to ensure that she delivered a performance worthy of the attention she was receiving.
Her phone buzzed, breaking through her thoughts. She tapped the screen and a vibrant image of Delite filled the display.
"Bitch, we are going shopping!" Delite declared with characteristic enthusiasm, her voice crackling through the speaker. Delite was Melody's other best friend – a whirlwind of energy and extravagance, and an heiress to one of the wealthiest families in Europe.
Melody allowed herself a small smile, appreciating the normalcy of their usual banter.
"Okay, what mall?"
"The Sea Crystal Mall, the one that my brother got two years ago," Delite replied, her voice brimming with a casual confidence that only immense wealth could afford.
Melody nodded her head, already familiar with the mall's reputation. It was a sprawling monument to opulence and excess, rumored to be the most exclusive shopping destination in all of Russia.
Delite was a hottempered heiress, but also fiercely intelligent and surprisingly cold when provoked. She wasn't an easy person to get along with; a whirlwind of unpredictable moods and demanding expectations. On the other hand, Diletta – their mutual friend – was a playful force of nature, reveling in destruction and extravagant spending, yet possessing a rebellious streak that made her prone to flipping off anyone who dared cross her.
The three of them—Melody, Delite, and Diletta—had been inseparable since they were toddlers, a trio of privileged heiresses bound together by a shared understanding of their unique circumstances and a fierce loyalty to one another. Their friendship was a complex tapestry woven with threads of rivalry, affection, and an unspoken agreement to protect each other from the treacherous world of high society.
"Sounds good," Melody replied, already mentally preparing for the inevitable chaos that would accompany a shopping trip with her two best friends.
"Give me an hour to get ready. And Delite, try not to break anything too expensive this time."
She heard Delite's sharp laugh crackle through the phone.
"No promises, darling. But I'll try to limit the damage to just a few million."
Melody rolled her eyes playfully before hanging up.
Melody strolled into her expansive walkin closet, a haven of luxury and curated fashion. Her fingers danced across racks of designer clothing, finally settling on a playful yet chic ensemble: a flowing pink skirt, a light blue crop top, a sleek black leather jacket, and a stylish fedora hat. Melody finished getting dressed with practiced ease, then grabbed a classic Chanel purse, its quilted leather gleaming under the soft lighting.
Rosemary, who had been lurking nearby, watched Melody's every move with simmering jealousy.
{Ugh, this bitch is so annoying.} Melody sneered inwardly at Rosemary's blatant gaze but kept her expression neutral. As Rosemary walked straight toward her, attempting to grasp her hand—a gesture Melody instinctively recoiled from—disaster struck.