Chapter 2I’m Just Cannon Fodder NPC in a Horror Game

But then, a player arrived who completely threw me off my game.

Oh my god.

A man showed up looking exactly like my lost love.

I ran through my usual routine, weeping in front of him under the cover of night.

He listened, then let out a soft laugh. "He treats you badly? How about I kill him for you, and you come with me?"

I froze.

Usually, at the start of a run, players didn't immediately go after the BOSS. Some overly sympathetic players had tried in the past, of course, and their deaths were spectacular.

My Count husband was ridiculously overpowered.

That was why the survival rate of this dungeon was a flat zero.

I kept up the act, sobbing, "My husband is incredibly powerful. You shouldn't..."

Thirty minutes later, the entire second floor was engulfed in raging flames. The player walked out of the fire, dragging several twitching tentacles and tossing them at my feet.

"Your husband is dead. That's fantastic... I mean, I'm so sorry for your loss."

I stared at him, utterly dumbfounded.

"Don't believe me? Look at the system log." He swiped his hand, bringing up a glowing interface only players could see.

There it was, in bold text: [Warning: Count Alistair of the Dread Castle has been slain. Congratulations on clearing the dungeon!]

I stood there, a sudden, strange hollow feeling blooming in my chest.

The man sheathed his sword and offered his hand. "Come with me."

I hesitated.

Sure, the Count looked seventy percent like my first love.

But this guy looked a hundred percent like him.

Sure, the Count had great stamina and a wild imagination in bed.

But this new guy looked like he wouldn't disappoint either.

Sure, the Count was strong.

But this guy was strong enough to turn the Count into calamari.

Actually, I couldn't think of anything else in the Count's favor.

Rest in peace, dear ex-husband. Your death brings me great sorrow, but a girl has to look to the future.

Just as I reached out to take his hand, the strange, glowing chat logs flashed before my eyes again.

[The BOSS knew she was unfaithful all along. He faked his death just to test her.]

[But the BOSS is still gravely wounded. Don't worry, our brave female lead is about to rescue and heal him!]

[This cowardly side-character NPC is running off with a player, thinking he actually cares about her. She has no idea he's just using her unique NPC biology. Every time players get hurt, they're going to carve pieces of flesh off her to heal. It's going to be brutal!]

[Oh, I remember this part! At the very end, she crawls to the BOSS, begging him to save her, but she ends up getting dirt on the female lead's dress. The BOSS disintegrates her soul without even blinking.]

[Wait... is that player supposed to look like that? Why does he look different from what I remember?]

Wait, I was just a tragic side character?

I suppose that made sense. I was just the BOSS's possession. There had been twelve others before me.

But... carve my flesh?

It was true that an NPC's flesh could rapidly heal players.

Suddenly, the way this handsome player was looking at me felt entirely different.

Shuddering, I yanked my hand back and squeezed out a few pathetic tears. "You have to understand... my husband just died. His soul hasn't even crossed over yet. I cannot betray his memory so soon."

"So you can after the mourning period is over?"

"..."

Was that seriously his takeaway?

The player actually seemed to ponder this. He picked up the charred tentacles, stuffed them into a small jar, and pressed it into my hands.

"Think of this as your husband for now. Keep him close so you feel he's still with you. I hate seeing you cry."

As he spoke, his gaze was incredibly intense, dripping with affection.

Can you blame me? Imagine a man who looks exactly like your first love staring at you with eyes full of absolute devotion.

Suddenly, holding my dead husband in a jar felt a bit inconvenient. It was keeping me from wrapping my arms around this new guy.

I wiped my tears and nodded.

Whatever. Let him carve my flesh. To die in the arms of beauty is a worthy death.

"Ah, the system says the next instance is opening. This place is about to collapse. Let's go." He wiped the blood from his hands and took mine, leading me forward.

Honestly, the jar was just in the way.

As we navigated the crumbling ruins, I "accidentally" dropped it into a fissure. A burst of flames swallowed it instantly.

Finally, I had both hands free to cling to his arm.

But why did the back of my neck suddenly feel so cold?