???

What kind of bizarre task is this?!

Learning the Villainess Heiress’s most painful memory… Isn’t that like stabbing someone in the heart? Even as friends, you can’t ask me to do something this cruel!

Did the system vanish just to cook up this nonsense?

Yifia was utterly speechless. The more she thought, the wronger it felt. She stopped walking and turned to argue with the system.

【System, I get the first task—becoming friends with Amelia. But the second? Way too messed up! Can’t you give me something decent for once?】

【Host, system review confirms: no abnormalities in the task.】

The robotic reply made Yifia roll her eyes. First period was definitely ruined.

But whatever—she could wait.

【You want me to dig into Amelia’s pain? To wreck the friendship I barely built? Humans don’t flaunt wounds—they lick them quietly. Maybe some confide… but only with deep trust!】

【Amelia and I barely know each other. This task feels deeply disrespectful!】

【Even a system shouldn’t rip open old scars. It’s unethical!】

Yifia laid out her points firmly, logically—determined to make the system change its mind.

The system sighed inwardly. She had a point… but the Villainess Heiress wasn’t human.

She was a demon.

Did she really expect to grant a demon human rights?

Oh, foolish host… Sympathizing with a demon brings lifelong misery.

Learning her pain was just a clever way to get the clueless host closer.

Know the wound, seize the moment to heal it—that’s how you reach her heart.

Why not state it plainly? Because the system didn’t trust Yifia.

She’d probably mess it up.

Better to go slow. Step by step.

Originally, the task was far riskier. But after the host spent the night in the Villainess Heiress’s room—and seeing how the heiress treated her—the system pivoted.

An unconventional path.

Records showed: across a hundred world collapses, some hosts relied on “player” skills—stunning looks, sharp charm—to seduce the Villainess Heiress, make her fall head over heels, and save humanity.

After all, the world’s doom hinged solely on her.

Tame her heart, solve everything.

Sounded solid.

But…

Not one succeeded.

Their plans weren’t bad—they mastered styles: “green tea,” “pure lotus,” “melancholic artist,” “shameless flirt.” With so many angles, one should’ve worked, right?

Reality? Total failure.

They failed at step one.

Simple reason: the Villainess Heiress was sharp, cold, ruthless. She’d feign politeness with humans but never let them near—just toys for idle amusement.

That’s why later systems abandoned the seduction route.

But now? Everything’s different!!!

This clueless host had somehow won the Villainess Heiress’s favor.

Past fallen hosts and systems would never have guessed—she actually liked this type!

Not using this ready-made host? The system would call itself an idiot.

All aid came with conditions.

More benefits for the host meant a heavier price.

No such thing as a free lunch…

【Host. Two choices.】

【One: Save the world. Stop humanity’s end. Two: Learn the Villainess Heiress’s pain.】

【Pick one. Now.】

She’d pick annihilation.

Yifia was speechless. Utterly speechless… Why drag “saving the world” into this again?!

She’d said it: unsavable. Just wait for doom.

She ignored the system, stayed silent, and walked toward class. The task? Later.

She couldn’t do it anyway!!!

She barely slipped into class as the bell rang. Sitting down, Yifia zoned out. Still… her mind wandered.

Could someone as perfect as Amelia carry pain?

Hard to believe.

Sometimes Yifia hated her own curiosity—always chasing answers.

So unlike her lazybones self!

Though if things got too messy or dangerous? She’d cut curiosity short.

Safety first. Always.

“Yifia, you seem down today. Something wrong?”

Lucy, her desk mate, finished her work, glanced over, and saw Yifia’s furrowed brow. Worried, she asked. Yifia blinked back to reality, offered a slight smile, and shook her head.

Lucy didn’t push. Changed topic.

“The first-floor cafeteria has a new dish today—mysterious Eastern cuisine, cheap too. Wanna try?”

“Eastern cuisine?”

Intrigued—and with no lunch plans with Amelia—Yifia nodded without hesitation.

She asked Jesina. Jesina regretfully declined: family lunch.

“Next time,” Yifia said. The moment the dismissal bell rang, she grabbed Lucy’s hand and bolted toward the cafeteria like wild horses, ignoring Jesina’s envious look.

Turns out, others were faster.

A long line snaked ahead. They waited patiently. The queue crawled. By the time Yifia got her tray, the cafeteria was packed.

She stepped aside to wait for Lucy, eyes dropping to her plate. Confusion flickered.

Stir-fried onions? But with leafy greens… and yellow ginger???

What bizarre “Eastern cuisine” is this?!

“Oh my god! What are you doing, commoner?! You ruined my dress!”

Ahead, chaos erupted. Yifia looked up.

Her roommate Eileen stood frozen just steps away. Food spilled from her tray onto a noble girl’s dress. The girl fumed, her aristocratic feather fan crushed tight in her fist.

Yifia’s inner voice: Uh-oh.

Textbook plot point.

Noble bullies heroine. Male lead swoops in heroically~

Yifia almost smirked at the cliché… until Eileen’s eyes locked onto hers—lighting up like she’d found salvation.

A chill shot down Yifia’s spine.

Bad omen. Strong bad omen. Run. Now.

“Yifia, please help me!”