Fake Princess, Real Sacrifice

Seven years ago, I unexpectedly transmigrated into the treacherous world of the North American mafia.

The System told me that as long as I accumulated a 100% "Angst Index" in this world, I could escape and return to reality with substantial rewards.

But after crossing over, I became the most pampered princess of the entire Koschei family.

My mafia father would buy all the roses in Manhattan just because I said I liked them. My genius doctor brother once climbed a mountain in a blizzard just to find medicine for me. And my fiancé, the heir apparent to the empire, still carried a scar on his chest from a fatal bullet he took for me.

I lost myself in the tender illusion they had forged.

Just when I had decided to give up everything and stay in this world forever, I overheard my father talking to my brother in his study:

"The brake lines are cut. Tomorrow, as soon as the crash happens, take advantage of the chaos in the ambulance to remove Elara's corneas. Do the transplant for Seraphina immediately."

Seraphina was the true blood daughter they had just brought back a month ago.

My fiancé, Silas, merely added, "Leave Elara alive, at least. She's called you Father for so many years, after all."

My blood ran cold like ice.

So the next day, I gave them exactly what they wanted.

Amidst the deafening crash of the collision, feeling the agonizing pain of my legs being crushed, I watched my brother sprinting toward me, carrying an organ transplant cooler.

A long-absent electronic voice echoed in my ears:

[Congratulations to the Host. The Angst Index has reached 100%. You may return to the real world upon physical death.]

As blood completely swallowed my vision, a trace of twisted relief welled up in my heart.

...

The three men plotting to carve out my eyes were the people I was closest to and trusted the most in this world.

Vito, the mafia godfather I had called Father for seven years;

Carlos, the family's chief physician and the brother I relied on the most;

And Silas, my fiancé of five years.

A month ago, Seraphina showed up at the estate with a DNA paternity test.

Back then, Father stroked my head and said I would always be the princess of the family. Brother said he would slit the throat of anyone who dared bully me. Silas pulled me into his arms and swore I was the only bride for him.

I thought we would still be the same as before. I thought I was just getting a little sister, and I even voluntarily gave up my bedroom.

But I never expected it all to be a lie.

Everything they told me was just to keep me docile, treating me as a walking spare-parts bank for their precious, visually-impaired Seraphina.

The next afternoon, the sunlight was so bright it stung.

Driving along the coastal highway, Seraphina sat in the passenger seat and cooed, "Sister, Silas said that once my eyes are cured, he'll take me to Italy to see the ocean."

She couldn't hide the smug smirk playing on her lips.

I stared blankly at the curve ahead and scoffed coldly.

I pressed my foot against the brake pedal—it was light and loose, offering absolutely no resistance, just as expected.

Right at that moment, a heavy-duty truck appeared in the rearview mirror, hurtling directly toward the driver's side.

A deafening explosion of metal tore through the quiet coastline. The windshield shattered into countless icy blades. The severely deformed car door smashed against my legs, followed by an agonizing, bone-shattering pain.

Blood quickly coated my eyes, painting my entire vision red.

Struggling to lift my head, I saw my dear brother, Carlos, frantically sprinting toward the wreckage with his bodyguards. He was clutching an organ transplant cooler tightly in his hand.

The unbridled impatience on his face was impossible to hide.

[Detected Host has suffered extreme betrayal. The Death Escape System is now active. You may leave this world upon physical death and return to reality. Do you accept?]

The mechanical voice rang out in my mind.

"I accept," I answered in my heart.

Finally, I closed my eyes completely, allowing my consciousness to plummet into darkness amid the excruciating pain.

When I regained consciousness, I was lying in a hospital bed.

My eyes were completely bound by thick layers of gauze, plunging me into absolute darkness. My crushed legs were encased in plaster casts; every single pulse pulled at the agonizing pain within them.

"Elara, you're finally awake!"

Silas grabbed my hand tightly, his voice thick with hoarseness and guilt. "It's my fault... I didn't protect you well enough. That driver was just a drunk. I've already had him thrown into the dog-fighting cages in the underground casino as meat."

Father gently stroked my forehead, his tone overflowing with heartbreak.

"My sweet daughter... you lost your legs trying to protect your sister... The shattered glass during the crash severely tore up your eyes. To save your life, Carlos had no choice but to remove them."

"That's right," Carlos chimed in, his voice tight. "Even though you're permanently blind now, as long as I still have a breath in me, I swear I'll find you a matching cornea as soon as possible."

A few pretty lies, and they effortlessly packaged premeditated murder and organ harvesting into a tragic accident.

The funniest part? They actually had the nerve to flaunt their nauseating, affectionate acting right in front of me—the perfect victim they had personally robbed of her legs and sight.

A mocking sneer slowly crept up the corners of my mouth as I forcefully yanked my hand out of Silas's grip.

"Is that so?"

I spoke, my voice raspy like sandpaper scraping against my throat.

"What a coincidence that I got in a crash and had my eyes removed... And what about Seraphina? Are those eyes of hers that were about to go blind cured now?"