How Does Question 7 End?

Everyone in Oceanton knew that mob boss Jared Pierce was deeply in love with me. No one feared my disappearance more than he did. Even if bullets were raining down on him, he'd still find a way to contact me, just to make sure I felt safe. But on the night before our wedding, he didn't come home. When he finally returned, he dropped to his knees, a bruised and weakened woman cradled in his arms. "Rosalia! Melody took the drug just to save me! I can't just watch her die! So I had no choice but to sleep with her." Terrified that I wouldn't forgive him, Jared drew six wounds into his arm. Blood soaked through his shirt in an instant. As soon as the wedding banquet ended, I heard his men chuckling and teasing. "The boss didn't even take off his wedding outfit before rushing to see Melody. Just how seductive is his lover?" Jared’s low, sultry voice followed. "Last time I stayed with her, I didn’t come back for three days and nights. Take a guess." In shock and despair, I called out the system. "I want to leave this world!" The system's cold voice replied, "After your exit, this world will erase all traces of your existence. Counting down… Seven days."

I jump off the seventh floor on my wedding day. Why? Because everyone has abandoned me to pick up a fake heiress from the airport, my fiancé included. I expect to see them riddled with heartbreak and regret after my death. However, my father merely shakes his head stoically and looks at my body while saying I was too willful. My mother bites her lip and sighs in relief. My fiancé, Magnus Gilmore, shields the fake heiress. He's afraid she'll see the horrible state of my body. The fake heiress is scared to tears at this, and everyone crowds around her to console her. No one cares whether I'm still breathing while lying in a pool of blood. I'm stunned when I see this, but I soon laugh self-deprecatingly. When I open my eyes again, I've been brought back seven years in the past. It's the day I've just stepped foot at home.

I was three months pregnant when the car crash happened. In those final moments of fading consciousness, I frantically dialed Damian’s private, encrypted line—the one meant only for emergencies. He never picked up. By the time I was rushed into surgery, I received a crushing blow: Damian had forcibly reassigned my lead private physician to the South District. He needed the best doctor to treat his childhood sweetheart, Evelyn, who had just been widowed. When I finally drifted awake through a haze of agony, my trembling fingers swiped open Instagram. I saw Evelyn’s latest post: “I knew that no matter the distance or the time, Damian would move heaven and earth to reach me. He even brought his Chief Physician just to help me heal from my grief.” In the accompanying photo, Damian—a man known for his cold, lethal eyes—was gazing at the woman beside him with a tenderness I hadn't seen in years. While I was clawing my way back from the brink of death, fighting to save our child, my husband was playing protector to another pregnant woman. A hollow, self-deprecating laugh escaped my lips. Without a second thought, I slid the wedding band off my ring finger. I opened my inbox and hit "Confirm" on the invitation from the world’s most elite International Finance Institute. If Evelyn is all he cares about, I’ll give them my blessing. In seven days, I will vanish from his world forever—and I’m taking my baby with me.

A story wherein a girl was invited by her boyfriend in a seven day vacation at his place. Clyone did noticed how strange the six days of the vacation went, but decided to ignore it instead. Despite of being aware of how strange her boyfriend was, a horrible event happened on the last day still crashed her world. A horrible event she never expected to come nor imagined.

Seven years into our secret relationship, award-winning actress Seraphine Winslow draws a truth-or-dare card during a special episode of a variety show. With a helpless smile, she confesses to the audience, "Actually, I've been in a seven-year relationship. He's incredibly handsome… And he's right here with us today." The internet explodes. The host immediately seizes the moment, urging the reigning Best Actress to call her partner on stage. My heart pounds so hard I can barely breathe. Seraphine has never told me this is part of the program. For seven years, I've stood by her side as her manager and watched her climb from an unknown rookie to the most celebrated actress in the industry. She picks up her phone and makes the call. The studio falls silent. Then, a ringtone pierces through the stillness and echoes through the audience. Everyone turns toward the sound, but I'm too stunned to move. My phone isn't the one that's ringing. Seraphine rises from her seat, walks into the audience, and takes a young man's hand. Leading Will Norman onto the stage, she turns to him with a gentle smile. "Don't be nervous, darling." A bitter smile hangs on my lips. Without another glance at the stage, I open the message Dad sent earlier. "Dad, I'd like to meet the woman from the blind date you told me about."

I suffer from a hereditary form of amnesia. By the time I found out, I had only seven days left. On the first day, I found my boyfriend had fallen for my younger twin sister. With a bitter smile, I suggested we break up. On the second day, my most treasured Lego set was smashed by my sister. Everyone laughed at me, saying I was disgraceful, unworthy of being a daughter of the Fleming family. On the fourth day, I forgot that my sister was allergic to mangoes. She ended up in the hospital, and my parents glared at me with resentment. Even my ex-boyfriend accused me of being heartless. On the seventh day, I woke up in a hospital bed to see my father walking in with a stern expression. He demanded that I quit my job and devote myself entirely to taking care of the family, as nothing more than a housekeeper. But I only looked at them in confusion and asked softly, “Who are you?” When they realized I had truly lost my memory, they lost their minds.