Broadcasting My Death-Flags in Real Time

Even people who aren't otaku know what a is.

I mean, if this notification calls it a penalty, then it can't be anything good.

And that could only mean one thing—

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

A fate of inevitable death!

"Something's wrong, Young Master?"

The knocking only made things worse.

My heart nearly leaped out of my chest. I quickly turned toward the window and rolled it down.

Outside stood not just my servant but also Liam and two other relatives—probably an uncle or a cousin.

All of them wore the same confused expression.

I felt like I owed them an explanation. "I… just need a moment."

As always, Liam was the first to understand. "Call us if you need anything, Young Master." He then urged the others to return to the grave.

The two hesitated, but Liam managed to convince them.

I tried to dismiss my paranoia as reasonable, but Liam's excessive kindness unsettled me.

I wanted to find out more about him, but was it really wise to ask my servant to take me home right now?

Especially considering this strange issue I'd somehow gotten myself into.

Death lurks on every path you take.

The warning flashed ominously, its glow almost mocking my helplessness.

Was I seriously going to die again?

*#*

After nearly an hour of thinking in the car, I came to a conclusion.

At the very least, I needed to avoid dying. I had no idea what would happen next or where I'd end up.

It could be somewhere worse—hell, limbo, or something even more horrifying. And I… couldn't bear the thought of suffering in agony for eternity.

That's why my first priority was gathering information—starting with the people I could trust and … assessing my own abilities.

After spending hundreds of hours playing Crimson Butterfly, I knew this world as well as I knew my own home.

The laws of nature, the hierarchy, even the mechanics of its power system.

But in the end, it had only been a game. Whereas now, this was real.

The differences could be vast—or nonexistent.

Then there was this bizarre system I needed to investigate.

I wasn't sure what 'livestrream' meant in that interface. I understood the word, but was it what I thought it was?

Was this some kind of elaborate simulation, with everyone around me merely playing their roles?

But if that were the case, how could they explain the drastic changes to my physical body?

It was obvious—Ethan Hudford and I were completely different people.

"Young Master, is something wrong?"

Liam placed a hand on my shoulder and gave me a light shake.

I snapped back to my senses.

Right.

After the flower-scattering ceremony, my servant had informed me that the next event was a 'warm' family dinner at the main mansion.

Warm, indeed.

When you cram seven families into the same room, each with at least three members, of course, it's 'warm'.

"He's probably thinking about how to divide things fairly. We wouldn't want another Gideon incident, right?" A cheerful voice spoke from my right.

"Fred, we shouldn't put the pressure on Young Master—"

"Hey, hey, I'm not pressuring him. Besides, Gideon had a point." Frederick paused when Liam shot him a sharp look, then raised his hands in surrender. "A bit, okay? Some projects have been left in limbo for the past three years. Unless our dear Ethan wants to personally handle them himself, he need to assign someone capable—just like Lord Archibald always did."

"Was this project what I thought it was?"

To be honest, I had no idea what they were talking about. But showing my ignorance so openly would be suspicious.

"Yes, Young Master. It's about the tea distribution, which has been losing money every year. This time, the loss is massive—10%."

Fred scoffed. "It's all thanks to those corrupt rats in the High Council."

"Fred, watch your language."

"I'm just saying what everyone else calls them." Fred shrugged. "They jacked up taxes the moment they saw our profits skyrocketing."

Liam sighed, seemingly in agreement. "The solutions are either raising prices or lowering quality—both are high-risk moves. So, Lord Archibald had been searching for new investors, one that could offer us raw materials at a cheaper price but with at least equivalent quality.

Unfortunately, Archibald passed away before securing one."

I nodded, finally starting to understand.

"Is there anything else I should consider?" I asked for confirmation.

"We sent the details to your telegram months ago," Fred said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Liam didn't bother to scold him this time.

I cleared my throat and spoke louder. "In that case…"

The room gradually quieted.

All eyes were now on me.

It sent a chill down my spine. I never liked being the center of attention.

"I will announce my decision… three days from now."

*#*

Throwing out that reckless announcement had been one thing, but now that I thought about it, three days was cutting it too close.

After dinner, I excused myself, leaving my relatives in the lounge. Some of them had already left since it was getting late.

But a few chose to stay—whether because their homes were too far or for some other reason.

I entered what was supposed to be my office. 

The room had three sets of bookshelves lining the walls, a small bar in the corner—though it contained more coffee-making tools than alcohol—and a mahogany desk buried under stacks of paper.

The pile was overwhelming. Sitting down, I felt like it could swallow me whole.

After sifting through them, I realized some of these documents had been pending for two years.

What had Ethan been doing all this time? Had he really locked himself away in grief over his father's death?

Based on his character in the game, Ethan was more of a cunning, pragmatic type.

He craved power and crushed anyone who stood in his way.

His father's death should have been his golden ticket to the top.

And while I hated to admit it, he was competent. There was no way he'd leave these documents piling up for years.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Who now? Hadn't I already said not to disturb me?

"Come back tomorrow morning. I'm busy."

Knock! Knock! Knock!

I clicked my tongue. Was my answer not clear enough?

"He—"

"Kaa~"

Huh?

That voice…

I immediately stood up from my chair, frowning.

Wasn't that the girl? The one who claimed to be Ethan's sister?

I crept toward the door.

Uh… how was I supposed to respond? I didn't even know her name.

"…Help me."

And when I slowly turned the doorknob, I saw her once again.

Her face twisted in agony—her stomach torn open, intestines spilling out.