Cerita Pendek Familial Bond & Novel Bias Golden Finger

After my family and I are dragged into a roguelike horror simulation, they favor my cousin, Julian Clark, over me. In a lobby of blood-soaked players, he always manages to stay spotless, earning their praise as someone who has "kept his humanity". He's unlike me, the brute who willingly throws himself into melee combat and hacks down monsters just to keep everyone else alive. During one dungeon run, a terrifying entity targets my younger sister, Millie Larsson. I draw my blade and move in for the kill, but Julian stops me with a sorrowful smile. "Every creature has a soul. Gabriel, if you kill it, you'll only enrage it and burden Millie with the sin of bloodshed." Millie believes all the nonsense he says and begins resenting me for interfering. Later, when a veteran player steals Julian's life-saving loot drop, I nearly die reclaiming it for him. Instead of thanking me, he takes pity on the woman robbing him and hands the item back to her. He condemns me for being too ruthless, claiming I know nothing about showing mercy to women. Then comes the advanced raid. Cornered by the final boss, I beg Julian to activate the high-tier talisman I've given him, buying me just one second to escape. He recoils from my bloodstained hand in disgust and turns to my parents instead. "Gabriel provoked the boss himself. He's too violent. I can't risk wiping the whole party just to save him." In the end, I die in the boss' jaws. Julian steps over my shattered bones and blood to clear the raid, eventually becoming the server's most celebrated player for being the Untainted Saint. But fate grants me a second chance. I awaken once more in the game's central lobby, right before everything begins. This time, I want to see how long their precious humanity lasts in a world overrun by horrors when the blood-soaked blade that always carries their party is no longer there to protect them.

My silence could grant life. My words could condemn someone to death. My adoptive father loved to drink. Whenever he got drunk, he would whip me with his belt. He broke seven of my ribs, and I stared him down. “You broke my bones. I’ll make you wither.” The next instant, the old compressor suddenly roared to life and drained every drop of blood from his body. My adoptive mother loved showing off. She stole a thick gold bracelet, then framed me for it. After she slapped me until my mouth bled, I said coldly, “You slapped me. I’ll make you lose your hands.” In the blink of an eye, all ten of her fingers twisted at impossible angles, every single one broken! From then on, I knew I was a monster, so I kept my mouth shut and pretended to be mute until half a year ago, when my biological parents brought me back to the city. To make it up to me, the whole family went on a trip over the summer holiday. But my younger adoptive brother, Evan Lowe, suddenly rushed up to me with a glass of water in hand, clutching his throat as he began to vomit violently. His face was deathly pale, and even his voice trembled. “Edwin, I know you hate me, but why did you put bleach in my water… “It could burn through someone’s intestines and kill them!” Mom came running out at the sound, then swung around and slapped me hard across the face. “You ungrateful little brat! You actually tried to kill Evan!” Dad rushed over too, his face dark as he kicked me to the ground. “So this is what you learned growing up in the middle of nowhere—nothing but bitterness and jealousy! Get over here, get on your knees, and apologize!” I collapsed onto the floor and watched Evan hide behind Mom, a smug smile curling at the corner of his lips. Fine. I clenched my teeth tightly. Since they wanted me to kneel and speak so badly, I would grant their wish! My gaze darkened as I fixed my eyes on Evan’s and slowly opened my mouth…

My camera could take pictures of people as they would look three days in the future. I took a photo of my parents. They were sitting in the front row at my wedding, their hands clasped tightly and smiles of satisfaction on their faces. Then a photo of my sister. She was standing off to the side, smiling as she held the ring box. Next was my childhood best friend. He was dressed as a groomsman, filming the ceremony on his phone with an excited look on his face. Everyone looked happy. Everything was perfect. Excitedly, I turned the camera toward my girlfriend Vivian. But the instant I pressed the shutter, I stopped breathing. In the photo, Vivian was slipping a ring onto someone's finger. And it was not mine. That unmistakable scar could only belong to my adopted younger brother. He was the groom at the wedding three days from now. I had been the fool they had all deceived for an entire year.