Chapter 1: After Sending the Knife, I Was Locked in the Dungeon by Readers

A cold sensation spread beneath her as Camilla regained consciousness on the rough stone floor.

A dull, swollen ache throbbed at the back of her neck.

All she could see was the dim, damp rock wall; the air was thick with mold and the faint sound of dripping water somewhere in the distance.

She moved her limbs slightly, and the coarse iron shackles immediately scraped her already raw wrists, sending a sharp wave of pain.

“Mm…?!”

She found herself slumped in the corner of a cell, with a strange, rose-scented silk handkerchief stuffed in her mouth.

What happened?

Wasn’t I just buying groceries at the market? How did I end up in this damned place?

Her mind raced, trying to piece together the situation.

In her previous life, she had been a hardcore player of the massive single-player RPG “Tarora Continent.”

After pulling an all-nighter to clear the perfect ending, she suddenly died, only to be transmigrated into the game as the main character Ophelia’s younger sister—someone who, in the original story, barely existed, a transparent side character who lived safely to the end.

For eighteen years, she had kept the motto “Stay away from the Main Plotline, cherish a peaceful life” close to heart, using her knowledge of the game to avoid every potential risk.

Thanks to her memories, she “borrowed” the novel’s plot to earn a handsome royalty, and lived her dream life of a carefree slacker waiting for fate.

According to her memory of the game’s plot, right now, her sister Ophelia should have just joined the Magic Academy—she hadn’t clashed with the Chaos Cult, nor been drawn into the Throne War.

Locked in a Dungeon?

That definitely wasn’t in the original storyline! What in the world happened?

Countless thoughts flashed through her mind, only to be denied one by one.

Just as she hesitated about whether to use a certain trump card, crisp footsteps echoed through the silent Dungeon.

The cell door’s iron lock clattered, letting out a piercing metallic screech.

A figure walked in, silhouetted by the torchlight in the corridor, her skirt hem brushing the damp floor—an image completely at odds with the darkness around her.

It was a young lady in a lavish dress.

Her dazzling golden hair gleamed even in the gloom; violet eyes shone like the finest gems, and her striking face was as lovely and dangerous as a rose with thorns.

Elena von Bardia, the only daughter of Duke Bardia, a major antagonist and one of the romanceable characters in the early stages of “Tarora Continent.”

Camilla’s pupils shrank.

How could it be her?

According to the game, she shouldn’t even know Ophelia yet—so why would she come to kidnap her, a mere “background character” little sister?

Elena waved the maid at the door away and walked over to Camilla alone, looking down at her with a gaze full of anger, grievance, and a spine-chilling excitement.

She bent over and yanked the handkerchief from Camilla’s mouth.

“Cough… cough, cough!”

Camilla gulped in the musty air.

Before she could say a word, Elena tossed a gorgeously bound, all-too-familiar book beside her onto the dry hay with a “thud.”

“About My Harem at the Magic Academy and Saving the World,” Author: Da Mi Gan Fan.

Wasn’t this the bestselling novel she’d “borrowed” from the game’s plot and published last year?

To give readers an unforgettable ending, she’d deliberately chosen the most heart-wrenching of the twelve possible endings…

It worked perfectly—readers who followed to the end were all devastated, some even staged small protest marches.

The sales of the novel doubled, and many outsiders bought a copy out of curiosity, only to be completely hooked.

How did it end up in Elena’s hands?!

Don’t tell me this lady is a fan of her book too?

“Speak!”

Elena’s voice trembled with betrayal, its echo lingering in the Dungeon.

“Why did your precious self write such a tragic team-wipe ending? Are you heartless, you bastard? Are you bent on taking revenge on society or what?”

She crouched down, grabbing Camilla’s shoulders and shaking her so hard her vision blurred, violet eyes shining with tears.

“Stop, I’ll talk… stop, please, stop shaking me…”

Camilla felt as if spirals were spinning in her eyes.

She never expected that her kidnapper wouldn’t be some in-game villain, but… a reader of her novel in this world.

This was even harder to accept than being kidnapped by the Chaos Cult’s chief mage! She wrote that tragic ending purely for fun—how could she know it’d trigger such “backlash”!

“Miss Elena? Maybe… you’ve got the wrong person?”

She still tried to bluff.

“Don’t play dumb!”

Elena jumped to her feet, heels stomping the stone.

“The Bardia Family Intelligence Network is never wrong! The Author is you! Why did you have to make the ending so cruel? You, you, you are… you’re really something!!!”

Camilla was at a loss for words.

Was she supposed to claim, “The Author was once a savior, all of it’s true, none of it’s made up”?

A powerful sense of absurdity washed over Camilla.

She’d dodged every ambush and scheme in the game, only to get stabbed in the back by herself.

“Um… respected Miss.”

Camilla forced a professional smile, trying to soothe this agitated “reader.”

“As for Alyss’s ending, tragic beauty is the soul of literature… How about this: you let me go home first, and I’ll immediately draft a happy ending, where Alyss powers up and one-shots the boss?”

In fact, one of “Tarora Continent’s” original endings was just like that.

After completing seven extremely difficult conditions, players could unlock the True Ending.

In the final battle, players would defeat the Final Boss, the Chaos Demon God, and live happily ever after with their Harem.

“No!”

Elena refused instantly.

She reached into a hidden pocket in her dress, pulled out a Feather Pen and a bottle of Magical Ink, and shoved them forcefully into Camilla’s shackled hands.

“I want it now! Right here! Write it on this Blank Page! A hundred thousand words a day! If you can’t write it, don’t blame me for being harsh!”

As she spoke, Elena pulled out a Lightning Whip and snapped it a few times in the air.

The harsh crack split the air in the cell.

Damn it, you’re treating me like a code-writing slave!

Camilla instantly broke out in a cold sweat.

Just as she was about to protest this ridiculous demand—

BOOM!!!!!!

A terrifying explosion erupted.

The whole Dungeon shook violently! Dust and stones rained down from above!

The heavy iron cell door, along with part of the surrounding stone wall, was torn and blasted inward by an indescribable force!

A wild wind, choked with dust and rubble, burst into the cramped space, making the torches flicker and dim.

Through the swirling dust, a slender but proud figure stood beyond the hole blasted into the wall.

Golden hair whipped wildly in the turbulent magic currents; icy blue eyes colder than ten-thousand-year-old ice; the oppressive aura made the Dungeon’s damp air feel like it had frozen solid.

“Sister?”

Camilla cried out in shock.

It was her, it was her, the peerlessly mighty big sister of Camilla—the unrivaled Ophelia Veyrlitt.