"Ning, sign this ten-billion confession! Admit you seduced me last night, and I'll let the director keep your appearance fee."
In the cramped dressing room, stale air reeked of cheap hairspray. Bone-white knuckles crushed against a woman's throat as Xavier Gu—the face fans worshipped as "entertainment's golden god"—twisted into something demonic.
Ning's eyes snapped open.
Suffocation flooded her nostrils like a tide. Her brain buzzed, lungs wheezing like broken bellows from oxygen deprivation.
Across her retina, blood-red numbers screamed their countdown like death's own metronome:
**[WARNING: Host cardiac damage severe. Life remaining: 23:59:59. Current debt: $1.5 billion. Heart failure imminent.]**
**[DING! National Crime Investigation Terminal 'Judge V2.0' activated. High-value criminal target detected. Recommend immediate close-contact evidence extraction to gain life force.]**
Twenty-four hours? And fifteen billion in debt?
Foreign memory fragments slammed into her skull. The original owner—sold by her father to pay gambling debts, her dying mother's last words a desperate "survive." Now, to cover for this celebrity scum, she was supposed to confess to nonexistent slut-shaming and face astronomical breach-of-contract penalties in prison.
The confusion in Ning's eyes evaporated, replaced by something that made the air temperature drop.
She didn't cry. Didn't even change her breathing pattern—automatically adjusting to the most energy-efficient rhythm.
She raised her hand and delivered a crisp slap across Xavier's face.
*CRACK!*
The sound echoed in the tiny space like a gunshot.
"Get lost."
Xavier staggered, clutching his rapidly swelling cheek, staring at this woman who'd always been so submissive. Had she lost her mind?
"Ning! You dare hit me?" Xavier exploded, veins bulging at his temples as he grabbed documents from the table and hurled them at her face. "Ungrateful bitch! This is a stalker harassment agreement! Sign it and take your five million to disappear. Don't sign? Then enjoy paying breach penalties while rotting in prison!"
The paper's sharp edge sliced across Ning's cheek, leaving a thin line of blood.
Ning expressionlessly wiped away the droplet and tasted it. Metallic.
She calmly removed a black hair tie from her wrist, bit it between her teeth, and gathered her disheveled hair with both hands. Slender fingers moved through the strands with practiced indifference, pulling everything into a high, sharp ponytail.
Her exposed neck was pale and elegant, still bearing clear fingerprint bruises.
This was her pre-war ritual.
**[System: Friendly reminder—while I'd love to watch you drown his head in a toilet, your heart can't handle high-intensity combat. Must maintain 3-meter proximity for 30 seconds to download 'tax evasion' evidence. Emotions don't pay bills. Survival does. For money's sake, please endure.]**
Ning's eyes flickered.
Tax evasion?
In her previous life as an agent and elite hacker, she'd always loved this kind of gift-wrapped leverage.
Seeing her silence, Xavier assumed she was scared. He sneered, stepping closer. "Oh, scared now? Too late! For that slap, you're going to kneel and kowtow to me on livestream!"
He reached for her collar again.
Ning didn't dodge.
The instant Xavier's hand approached, her eyes turned arctic. Her wrist twisted at an impossible angle, locking onto his pulse point with surgical precision.
Leverage. Pressure.
*BANG!*
Xavier was slammed face-first against the makeup mirror by an irresistible force, his cheek distorting against the glass, completely immobilized.
"Let... go!" Xavier gasped, struggling futilely against the iron grip on his wrist.
Ning didn't release him. Instead, she stepped closer.
To any observer, their position looked intensely intimate. She was practically pressed against his back, her chest mere inches from his spine—like lovers whispering sweet nothings.
Only Xavier could feel the ice-cold temperature radiating from the woman behind him, the kind of chill that came from dancing on death's edge.
**[System: DING! Level 1 data source detected. Establishing connection... Distance locked. Data transfer initiated.]**
A blue progress bar began crawling across her retina.
10%...
Ning lowered her head, lips nearly brushing Xavier's ear, voice husky: "Xavier, don't move. Let me see exactly how much this pretty face of yours is worth."
Xavier froze, then twisted his features in disgust. "Ning, you really are a whore. Still trying to seduce me at a time like this? Think I'll let you off? Dream on!"
He thought she was surrendering, begging for mercy through seduction.
Ning ignored his barking, focused solely on the progress bar.
35%... Too slow.
"Cat got your tongue? Weren't you so tough before?" Xavier struggled to turn his head, only to be pressed harder against the mirror.
"Shh." Ning's ice-cold fingertip traced his nape, raising goosebumps across his skin. "Don't interrupt. Data transmission might cut out."
"What data?" Xavier couldn't understand her crazy talk, assuming it was some elaborate game of hard-to-get. "Fine, you want thrills? 'Heartbeat Warning' is still livestreaming outside. Dare to come play with me?"
50%...
The system chimed: **[Encrypted file 'Dual_Contracts.xlsx' detected. Target suspected of money laundering through shell companies. Massive amounts involved. Tsk, this trash is actually valuable—enough to buy you two more hours.]**
Only two hours?
Ning frowned, unconsciously tightening her grip until Xavier groaned in pain.
"Ning! What the hell do you want?" Xavier finally sensed something wrong. This woman's aura was too strange—not seductive at all, more like... predatory.
"Fifteen more seconds," Ning murmured like a countdown to execution.
"Fifteen seconds of what? Are you insane?"
Xavier violently broke half-free, straightening his wrinkled suit collar, his face resuming that superior arrogance. "Ha, figured it out? Want to ride my coattails for attention? I'll indulge you. Follow me outside and I'll show you what total industry blacklisting looks like."
He strode toward the door with a victor's confidence.
Ning followed, but her hand shot out, gripping his sleeve tightly.
Not clinging.
Maintaining three-meter Bluetooth transmission range.
But to Xavier, this looked like Ning's final desperate attachment. He chuckled without shaking her off, actually straightening his spine with pride. "What? Can't bear to let go? Weren't you so tough just now?"
Ning kept her head down, watching the numbers race across her retina.
85%... 90%...
Outside, the noise grew clearer. The "Heartbeat Warning" livestream set, where tens of millions of viewers waited for Xavier's explanation, waited to see this "public enemy" Ning get her comeuppance.
"We're here." Xavier stopped before the door marked with red "LIVE" warning lights, fixing his hair before turning to mock Ning. "Remember, once we go in, just kneel and I'll leave you a way out."
98%... 99%...
**[DING! Data extraction complete. File acquired: Dual_Contracts.xlsx. Life force +2 hours. Current balance: 25:59:50.]**
The crushing sensation around her heart—that feeling of imminent explosion—instantly eased.
Ning exhaled deeply.
Then, as if touching something filthy, she released Xavier's sleeve with obvious disgust, even pulling out a wet wipe to methodically clean the fingers that had touched him.
Xavier stared. "What are you doing?"
Ning tossed the soiled wipe into a nearby trash bin, her lips curving into a bloodthirsty smile.
"Xavier, you're right."
She lifted her leg, the limb cutting a sharp arc through the air.
"I should give everyone a show."
*CRASH!!!*
Thunder.
That heavy door—marked with red warning lights—exploded outward under her kick!
The door panel crashed to the floor with deafening impact. The previously noisy studio fell dead silent as countless cameras and eyes swiveled toward the entrance.
Through the settling dust, Ning stood there, high ponytail swaying, eyes more blinding than the spotlights.
She smiled at the horrified Xavier, and at tens of millions of viewers nationwide:
"Ladies and gentlemen, this isn't just an apology. Today, I'm sending this top celebrity—straight to prison."