Cash grinned from ear to ear. "Really now," he asked, looking at the girl clenching her fists.
He then pressed down on the trinket around my neck—rubbing the lamp with his thumb.
"There. It's all nice and clean," he added sarcastically, letting it go. He looked me straight in the eyes. "We should be alright now."
He dragged out the last word. "Right?"
Buttercup stared at him, barely holding herself back.
"You've got a great sense of humor," she said coldly, "but you're too dumb to understand a warning. I'm done playing nice."
She took a slow, inconspicuous breath.
Cash and JT didn't notice, too focused on tormenting the new victim who had brought herself to them.
Ice breath?
I thought—but that couldn't be right. Wasn't her TV counterpart unable to use that power?
She blew downward as JT got closer, creating a minor gust of wind that kicked dust and sand into their eyes.
"Ah—what the!?" JT yelled, blinded as grit filled his vision.
She took the opportunity and closed the distance, her eyes half-fixed on the knife Cash still held toward me.
Then her gaze snapped back to JT's chest.
Her fist struck his sternum—crack—fracturing it. His breath left him in a ghastly, silent gasp.
"What, you can't take one little puny hit?" she taunted, her free hand reaching for his bat.
But he found a second wind, jumping back. "Bitch!!!" he yelled, gripping the bat with both hands.
"WAIT—DON'T AIM FOR THE HEAD!!!"
Cash screamed as he saw JT winding up for Buttercup's skull. His expression twisted into fear for the first time. They were used to threatening kids because of plausible deniability—
Deniability, as long as there was no evidence to back up their victims' claims.
And right now, that idiot was about to strike a girl somewhere everyone could see.
Crack!
Buttercup smiled as she took the hit—no defense, no dodge. Blood spilled as her head snapped to the side, her body enduring the agony.
"!!!"
"IDIOT!!!" Cash screamed.
I was in shock too. I thought she'd dodge it. Instead, she chose to get hurt.
My chest ached.
Ding!
[(You have triggered the special mission: Lover's Shield.)]
Having witnessed your lover being injured, you now have one option...
Retribution.
Objective 1: Break free from Cash's grasp.
Objective 2: Take his knife.
Objective 3: Prevent both Cash and JT from getting away.
Final Objective: Don't let Buttercup intervene.
Reward: +10 Affection Points (Buttercup), Daily Gacha Roll ×1
Bonus Reward: Benjamin Tennyson's full memories & Gambler's Luck (Mystic Grade Skill)
[Accept / Decline]
(You have 5 minutes to cancel this mission before it becomes inactive.)
"What is this…?" I muttered, frozen. "A mission?"
A translucent panel hovered before me. I looked down at the chain around my neck—it tugged toward the screen.
The timer started ticking.
00:04:59
It appeared beside the Decline option.
"Objectives… Affection Points… Gacha… memories… and a skill?" My breath caught. "Is this my golden finger?"
"I wasn't just thrown into this world after all."
The screen's presence calmed me. Someone—or something—was watching over me.
"I half expected Buttercup to be my only transmigration gift."
"But these objectives…" I scanned the list again.
"The first three are manageable. But the fourth…"
I swallowed. "I have to stop her from interfering while showing her a lover's fury."
The timer ticked down.
00:03:47
Three minutes left.
Seeing her get hit still hurt—but that had to be from this body's suppressed memories. That was the problem. How could I summon enough rage to make it believable?
The thought was cold. Logical.
I didn't know how to complete the objective if I couldn't act. It was hard to feel rage for a stranger instead of sympathy or gratitude.
I closed my eyes and inhaled. "You can do this."
I slapped my face. "You can do this!"
Slap!
That did it.
I looked around, testing my range. My movement was restricted by the necklace—it wouldn't budge from the screen.
"I can only move at arm's length."
"Meaning… I can only deal with Cash right now."
I grinned and shoved his frozen hand away, prying his fingers open. Then I stomped his foot with everything I had.
"You gave me a good beating," I growled. "It's about time I returned the favor."
Accept!!!
I locked in my choice, drawing my arm back as time resumed.
"You can mess with me all you want—"
My shout startled Cash.
"But never touch my loved ones!!!"
He tried to step back, but my foot pinned him as my fist crashed into his face.
I used all my momentum, taking us to the ground. His pocketknife slipped from his hand as I hammered him.
Crunch!
"You wanted this, right!? Crunch! Wanted me to snap—CRUNCH! THEN I'LL SNAP ALL YOU WANT!!"
I stood, his face already ruined.
He groaned, trying to shield himself. "Tennyson—"
I stomped through his guard, driving the sole of my shoe into his forehead. His eyes rolled white as he clawed at my leg.
"Fuck you, Tennyson!!"
He rolled, taking me down. I snarled, grabbed a fistful of dirt near the knife, and threw it in his face.
I kicked free. "Keep my name out of your mouth!"
Cash stared at me with daggers in his eyes.
"You think you're tough now?" he spat.
His hand moved faster than I expected.
The knife flashed.
I barely twisted aside as the blade slashed past my ribs, tearing through the fabric of my shirt.
"Die, you freak!" Cash snarled, lunging again.
The second strike came straight for my stomach.
Instinct took over. I grabbed his wrist with both hands.
The knife stopped inches from my gut.