Trapped In A Game That Flopped Novels & Stories

“Oh, so you won’t come out? Fine. Then I’ll smash all your d*mn flowers!” He stormed forward and stomped the flowers into pieces. At that moment, I suddenly remembered something Lucas once told me. In horror games, players who refused to participate usually died horribly. Back then, I thought he was just making up stories, but it seemed like maybe I really should’ve believed him. “Sir, wait, don’t–” Before I could finish my sentence, the crushed flowers suddenly regenerated. On top of that, they grew larger and larger until the enormous petals swallowed the man whole. A scream rang out, and then silence fell. All that remained on the ground were two severed limbs and a pool of blood.

The old families would wake up poorer and never understand how. But nothing ever stayed simple. Twist one: a trap snapped shut in the code—a digital tripwire, but not one she’d expected. Instead of the usual hack, there was a message, cold and deliberate. Funds locked, the whole mechanism frozen. Someone had anticipated her, slipped into her system ahead of her. In that instant, her eyes flared violet, the light reflected from the monitor sharpening her features. “Fuck,” she muttered, but it was a curse laced with excitement. The game had just changed.

Laras replied with an admiring gaze. “Seriously, Ras. I feel so ugly, especially since my eye bags were really visible earlier,” Bintang said, feeling insecure. Especially since she had collapsed yesterday and only felt better later that night. Last night, Bintang had contacted Langit and apologized for not replying to his messages, saying she had been busy. She truly wasn’t being honest about her relapse because she didn’t want to make Langit worry, even though Langit already knew what had happened.

“Relax. They’re harmless. Most of them only do it when overwhelmed. Trauma response. Hormone dump. Panic bonding. Whatever you want to call it.” “Panic bonding?” I snorted. “That sounds like bullshit.” A guy moaned from one shower stall beside us. Nova smirked. “Does that sound like bullshit?” I covered my face. “I hate it here already.” Nova shoved a towel at me. “Come on lets shower. I smell sweaty.” The water hit my skin and instantly warmed me. I let out a sigh, washing off the sweat and grime from yesterday’s hellish maze. As i watched other guys kept flirting, touching, play-fighting, laughing like they weren’t imprisoned in a murder game.

"Just divorce her one more time—for me. The last time. And promise me, you'll never marry her again." Rage surged through me. I shoved her back. "Do you really think marriage is some kind of game? That you can just say yes and no whenever it suits you?" She stumbled into the sideboard, wincing as pain shot through her ribs. Bella's words replayed in my mind like a cruel echo: "Aaron, you keep marrying and divorcing like you collect loyalty stamps. "Get seven stamps, and what — the next one's free?" The words pricked at me like a tiny, relentless needle, barely there, yet sharp enough to lodge deep in my chest.

“The system likes psychological traps. I wouldn't make this game that predictable.” I blinked. “You’re disturbingly analytical for someone who growls at raw meat.” He smirked. “Jealous much?” “Yes, cause everyone wishes, they could just growl at raw meat.” He accidentally dropped a glass bowl. It shattered into a million tiny pieces. We both froze. “Minus one point for clumsiness,” the system chimed. “Clumsiness? Is there anything in this game that wouldn't lead to us losing marks?” I shouted shock. “Yes actually," the system teased. “You shutting up."

To pay off my student loans, I started doing spicy streams online. I never thought I'd actually blow up. Every night, my audience floods the chat, fawning over my face and my body. I love the attention, and I work hard to give them what they want. Until I was dropped into a horror game. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a rotting corpse. And for some reason, my livestream was still running. When the game’s Boss told us all to pick a weapon to die by.

“For the sake of what we used to have, if you get on your knees and apologize to Winnie, I can reluctantly forgive you. Once we enter the game, I’ll keep you alive.” I looked at the numbers turning bloodred and smiled faintly. They did not know this was an S-rank lobby. Only when the game began would players find out which instance they were in. This round had been started by Winnie’s party invitation, and both of them assumed they would naturally enter a C-rank beginner zone. They thought they could tear through everything inside and bask in everyone’s praise. The next second, the world around us collapsed. When I opened my eyes again, we were surrounded by ruins.

"This guy lies like breathing. There was never any thesis. He just wanted to scam someone." Parker quietly took two steps back, trying to distance himself from Caleb. Tyler immediately changed sides. "Caleb, this isn't right. If you didn't have a thesis, you should've said so. Why blame Noah and make all of us misunderstand him?" "Shut up, you fence-sitter!" Caleb screamed at Tyler. "If you hadn't stirred things up in the group chat, why would I have gone to smash his cabinet?" Tyler's face turned livid. He snorted.

"Don't start yapping about Spencer. That fox who seduced my niece... disgusting." "Just create a better game next time. And then, please be entirely transparent about the conditions of the games right from the start. You misled a lot of players and you suck them in without actually taking their consents first." "But that will lessen the thrill of playing my game—" "The excitement should start exactly when the game begins. You fucked them up right from the soul transfer. Who would think about enjoying it after telling them 'you can't get out unless you win a lot of instances'. You messed up. That's it."