Chapter 1 – The Novel That Killed Her
Waking up was a slow, agonizing process.
It wasn't the pleasant, sun-dappled awakening she was used to, where Egyptian cotton sheets brushed against her skin and the scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted from her personal kitchen.
This was a brutal sensory assault. Her eyes fluttered open to a ceiling fan that spun with a sickly, hesitant wobble, each rotation accompanied by a grating crick-squeak sound that set her teeth on edge.
She was in a novel she had just read—the very one that had caused her fatal accident.
A cruel irony, she thought. She'd been so engrossed in the plot's dramatic climax while crossing the street that she hadn't seen the delivery truck.
Now, she was here.
The air around her was heavy, thick with dust and the cloying, pervasive smell of mold—a smell she hadn't encountered since childhood visits to her impoverished aunt.
The wallpaper wasn't merely old; it was actively peeling away from the walls in strips, like sunburnt skin, exposing the drab, grey plaster underneath.
The room was a study in neglect, far removed from the luxurious penthouse she'd lived in just hours ago.
She sat up abruptly, a sudden movement that sent a spike of pain echoing through her skull. Her head pounded, a dull, rhythmic throb that mirrored the anxiety tightening in her chest.
She brought a hand to her forehead, noting the unfamiliar, slightly rough texture of her skin. This wasn't her hand.
The memories hit her like a bolt of lightning, sharp and overwhelming, layering themselves over her own life's recollections.
She wasn't in her own body anymore.
She was now Xiao Xi, a name she recognized with a chilling certainty.
Not the brilliant, financially independent CEO she had been, but a completely different person—a D-list actress with a reputation so toxic it seemed to actively repel opportunities.
This Xiao Xi was the novel's designated cannon fodder, the character whose sole purpose was to act as a stepping stone for the true heroine.
Her fate, as chronicled in the book, was a rapid, humiliating destruction by online hate, effectively ending her career—and her ability to survive—well before Chapter Three.
The realization was a punch to the gut.
The novel's plot was detailed and unforgiving. The "real" female lead, a sweet-tempered genius actress named Lin Wei, was set to shine brightly, rising phoenix-like from the ashes of Xiao Xi's carefully manufactured downfall.
"I've transmigrated. And I've become her," Xiao Xi whispered, the sound a ragged, unfamiliar croak.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, the mattress protesting with a loud thwump. She crossed the small, cluttered room to a dresser topped with a cracked, silver-backed mirror.
The reflection staring back was pale, framed by dark, messy hair. The face was undeniably beautiful, sculpted with high cheekbones and large, expressive eyes, but it was marred by a subtle yet deep-seated air of exhaustion and defensiveness.
It was the face of a fighter who had been losing for too long.
"So this is it," she muttered, tracing a finger over the fissure in the mirror glass. "A second chance, wrapped in a death sentence."
Just as the absurdity of her situation began to fully sink in—the death, the transmigration, the imminent doom of the plot—a sound echoed, not from the room, but deep inside her mind.
A soft ding!
It was followed by a sensation akin to a pressure change in her inner ear, and then, a smooth, synthesized voice that bypassed her physical hearing entirely.
[System activated. Welcome, Host. Luck-Stealing System v3.0 initializing.]
Xiao Xi froze, her hand resting on the cracked glass. Her heart, which had just begun to slow its frantic rhythm, leaped again.
A translucent panel, shimmering with faint blue light, materialized directly in her line of sight, superimposed over her reflection.
She blinked, rubbed her eyes, but the display remained.
It's a system, she thought, a strange mix of dread and exhilaration bubbling up. As a reader, she knew the trope.
A system meant a cheat, a lifeline, but usually one tied to impossible demands.
The panel updated, displaying information in crisp, white text:
[Host: Xiao Xi ]
[Current Status: Cannon Fodder, D-List ]
[Current Luck: -200 ]
[System Status: Operational ]
A new section of the display lit up, flashing urgently.
[Mission: Survive.]
[Objective: Accumulate 10,000 Luck Points to rewrite destiny.]
[Failure Condition: Reach 0 Life Points (Plot Destruction/Fatal Incident).]
A cynical, almost manic grin stretched across her lips. This was better than a simple death sentence. This was a challenge.
Her old life had been built on taking risks and beating the odds.
"A system?" she whispered again, louder this time. She stepped back, folding her arms across her chest.
"Fine. If the universe wants me to play a game to earn my life back, I'll play. I'll play this game better than anyone."
The original Xiao Xi had been lazy and arrogant, yes, but her former self—the CEO—had been ruthless and incredibly intelligent.
She knew how to manipulate assets, how to turn bad situations into strategic advantages.
She looked at the abysmal -200 Luck.
I guess I have nowhere to go but up, she thought.
The novel may have been a killer, but now, it was her only hope. She just needed to figure out how to steal the luck of a universe already conspiring against her.