Chapter 2

I returned to reality, standing in our small living room. The scent of my mother's cheap air freshener filled my nose.

A conversation drifted from the kitchen. It was Olivia.

"Mom, I can't believe Chloe did that," she said, her voice laced with fake disappointment. "She knows how much I wanted the 'Independent Achiever' path. She said it herself, that it was the only way to earn real respect."

My mother sighed. "I know, sweetie. Your sister can be so selfish sometimes."

"It's not just selfish," Olivia pressed on, her voice trembling slightly. "It's like she wants me to fail. She knows I'm not good at... all that social stuff. She took the easy way out and left me with the hard one. It's just so unfair."

I leaned against the wall, listening to her performance. It was masterful. The slight catch in her throat, the carefully crafted victimhood. She was painting me as the villain, the lazy sister who forced her into a path of hardship.

Our parents walked out of the kitchen, their faces set with disapproval.

"Chloe," my father started, his voice stern. "Your sister told us what you did. How could you be so thoughtless? You know Olivia has always been more ambitious. You should have let her choose the path that suited her."

"She did choose," I said calmly. "She chose first."

"Don't talk back," my mother snapped. "Olivia is your older sister. You should be looking out for her. She's taking on this difficult challenge, and all you can think about is yourself, taking the easy route of flirting with boys."

I watched Olivia from the corner of my eye. She was standing behind our parents, a tiny, triumphant smirk playing on her lips before she quickly replaced it with a look of pained concern. She enjoyed seeing me get scolded, just like she always had.

In my past life, I would have argued. I would have screamed about fairness, about how I was always the one making sacrifices. It would have ended with me being grounded and Olivia receiving comforting hugs.

But not this time.

I lowered my head, letting my hair fall over my face. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, my voice soft and full of remorse. "I didn't think. I was just... scared of all the hard work."

The admission seemed to satisfy them. Their anger softened slightly.

"Well," my father said, clearing his throat. "What's done is done. Just try not to cause any more trouble for your sister. She's going to have a hard enough time as it is."

A small price to pay, I thought. Let them think I'm a shallow, lazy coward. Let Olivia believe she has the upper hand. The more they underestimated me, the easier my job would be.

"I understand," I said meekly. "I'll go to my room."

My mother nodded, a dismissive wave of her hand. "Go on. And stay out of Olivia's way."

As I walked away, I felt Olivia's smug gaze on my back. I didn't care. Tonight, my real work would begin.

Back in the safety of my small, cramped bedroom, I locked the door. The room was just as I remembered, a collection of secondhand furniture and textbooks. My parents always said Olivia needed the bigger room for her clothes and social life, while all I needed was a desk.

I sat on my lumpy mattress and pulled up the system interface.

[The Dream Entry Pass is ready. Please select your target.]

Liam Hayes. Noah Riley.

My finger hovered over the screen.

Suddenly, a new notification popped up.

[System Tip: Items from the real world can be brought into the dreamscape, limited to what the Host can carry.]

I looked around my room. Textbooks, pencils, a worn-out laptop. Then my eyes landed on a pile of papers on my desk. They were my notes, scribbles, and half-formed ideas for the tech startup I had built in my past life. Even before the "Independent Achiever" system forced me, I had a passion for it. My parents thought it was a waste of time, a silly hobby. They told me I should focus on finding a good husband, not on "playing with computers."

An idea, bold and a little crazy, began to form in my mind.

Everyone, including Olivia, thought the "Socialite Siren" was about seduction. They expected me to use this dream to appear in Liam's bed, to whisper sweet nothings in his ear.

But what if I did the exact opposite?

I gathered a thick stack of my most complex algorithmic designs and clutched them to my chest.

"System," I said, a grin spreading across my face. "Target: Liam Hayes. Let's begin."