The green screen of victory lingered, a defiant beacon in the suffocating darkness of the alley. The diamond in her hand felt impossibly heavy, a tangible testament to her latest triumph. She had outsmarted the System again, not by breaking its rules, but by bending them into a new and unrecognizable shape. But the victory felt hollow. It was a constant, exhausting battle, and she was always on a razor's edge, one mistake away from being sent to a new, terrifying world.
She returned to her manor under the cover of night, the cold stone of its walls offering little comfort. The chaos Liam had orchestrated was still playing out across the city, a symphony of sirens and shouting. She knew the System would see these events as random, disconnected accidents, but she also knew it was learning. It was a computer program, a complex machine, and every defeat was a data point, every loophole she found was a bug it would eventually patch. The "Task: Publicly Disgrace Yourself" command had been a direct attack, a response to her previous creative villainy. The "Heirloom" mission had been a sophisticated trap. The next one, she knew, would be even more dangerous.
The next morning, a screen appeared. It was simple, as always, but this time it was accompanied by a subtle, almost imperceptible shift in the air, a faint hum that resonated deep in her bones.
"Task: Secure a betrothal to Duke Cedric. Reward: 500 points."
Her blood ran cold. This was the final, most terrifying mission from the original manhwa. In the story, the original Selena would have used a love potion on the Duke, a monstrous act of manipulation that would have led to a forced engagement. Her subsequent reveal as a villainess would have been a spectacular and tragic downfall, cementing Duke Cedric's hatred and securing his love for Iris. It was the plot point that had defined her as a villainess, and the System was forcing her into it with a direct command.
She could feel the compulsion, a powerful, almost physical pull toward the forbidden library where the love potion recipe was hidden. She was not a puppet, but the strings were tightening, pulling her toward a fate she couldn't escape.
She immediately sent for Liam. He appeared on her balcony, his face unusually pale. He didn't even have a bird with him. "I saw the new task," he whispered, his voice grave. "The System is not just giving you a command, it's affecting the world around you. There's a new layer of control, a new kind of magic. It's subtle, but it's there. The air is... different."
Selena nodded, her mind already racing. "It wants me to use the potion. It's the only way to fulfill the command. There's no creative way to get a betrothal to a Duke who hates you without resorting to villainous acts. This is a trap with no loopholes."
Liam shook his head. "It's not about the potion. It's about the act of manipulation. The System wants you to be a villainess in every way possible. The potion is just a means to an end. We can't stop you from getting the betrothal, but we can change the nature of the act itself."
Their plan was an act of pure, audacious bluffing. They wouldn't stop the plot. They would simply make it into a different kind of story, one where the "villain" was a genius manipulator and the "hero" was an unwitting accomplice.
First, they would not use a love potion. They would use a different kind of concoction, one that would appear to be a love potion but was, in reality, a simple truth serum. Liam, with his knowledge of herbs and a quiet confidence in his skills, had a recipe for a harmless liquid that would make a person's subconscious desires come to the surface, and it would do so in a way that looked like a magical enchantment.
Second, they would not force a betrothal. They would make the Duke do it on his own.
That evening, Selena found an opportunity to be alone with Duke Cedric in the garden. She was dressed in a stunning gown of dark emerald, her hair pulled back in a severe, elegant bun. She looked every inch the villainess. She held a single, half-filled teacup.
The compulsion was a physical ache in her hand, urging her to pour the liquid into his drink. She felt the System's gaze, a cold, unblinking presence. The air was thick with it.
"Duke Cedric," she began, her voice a low, melodic whisper. "I must confess something to you."
He looked at her, his expression a mixture of wariness and curiosity. He had seen her recent odd behavior, the strange way she had been defying social norms. She was no longer the petty, predictable woman he had once known.
She raised the teacup to her own lips and took a sip. Her face remained impassive. "I have not been honest with you," she said, her voice clear and without a hint of emotion. "The truth is, I have always... desired you. And I believe you have always desired me, too."
The System was waiting for her to force him, to pour the potion into his cup and watch him fall into a state of lovesick puppetry. But she didn't. She simply spoke the words, a statement of cold, clinical fact. She knew that he had to be feeling some kind of admiration for her recent cunning. She had, after all, proven herself to be intelligent and resourceful, qualities he admired in a leader.
Duke Cedric looked at her, his eyes unblinking. He didn't feel any sudden, unbidden love. He felt... a flash of recognition. It wasn't love, but respect. A dangerous, forbidden respect for her raw intelligence and ambition.
"You have," she continued, her voice gaining a sharp, precise edge, "and I have, too. This is not a confession of love. This is a confession of ambition. We both want the same thing: power. And we both know that we are stronger together than we are apart."
The System had expected a love potion, a false confession. It had not expected a proposition, a cold, calculated arrangement based on mutual ambition. The Duke, a man of logic and reason, was intrigued. The System's magic was in the air, but it had no effect because the "love potion" was not a love potion at all. It was just a glass of water.
He looked at her, his eyes thoughtful. "A betrothal," he mused, "would consolidate our families' power, and would certainly benefit our political standing. It is a logical choice."
"Task Progress: 100%. Betrothal Secured. Reward: 500 points."
The screen flashed, a vibrant green of victory. The System had wanted a villainous act. She had given it a business transaction. It had wanted a forced love story. She had given it a political alliance. She had secured the betrothal without a potion, without a lie, and without a single act of villainy. The System had provided a mission, and she had fulfilled it in a way that had rewritten the entire plot. She was no longer just a villainess; she was the architect of her own destiny, a puppet master pulling the strings of the System itself.