Bloody Battle with the Shark (3)
The world around me froze the instant the message appeared. My fingers hovered uselessly over the interface that should have delivered the next fragment of this twisted game. Instead, all I got was red text and a system rejection that felt far too personal.
This isn't supposed to happen. Not now. Not when I'm this close to sinking my teeth into the next piece of the board.
I could almost taste the salt and blood in the air, the phantom memory of dark waters and a dorsal fin cutting through the waves like a blade. The shark wasn't just a beast in some arena. It was a symbol, a warning, a predator wearing the face of one of those women who thought they could rule the fractured kingdoms without consequence.
But the system had slammed the gate shut. Invalid access. The words burned behind my eyes. Someone, or something, didn't want me proceeding. Was it the Administrator? One of the hidden factions pulling strings behind the gender-swapped warlords? Or had I triggered some hidden safeguard by pushing too hard against the memory locks I'd been weaving around Cao Cao's camp?
My pulse hammered against my temples. The harem I'd begun to assemble, the delicate web of control and seduction, the political chessboard where every beautiful face hid a dagger; none of it mattered if the System itself refused to load the next scene.
I forced a slow breath and tried the command again. Nothing. The interface flickered once, mockingly, then died.
Fine. If the front door is locked, I'll break a window.
The dark waters of the upcoming trial still called to me. Somewhere beyond this error lay the shark, the blood, and the next beautiful conqueror whose will I would bend until she moaned my name instead of her kingdom's. I wouldn't be denied. Not by code. Not by fate.
Whatever guarded the next chapter, I would tear it apart with my bare hands if I had to. The game was mine to rewrite, one corrupted beauty at a time.