The patient's older brother?
Nina Donovan thought for a moment. This afternoon, she had helped a little girl by paying her medical fees. The grandson the old woman had mentioned must be the person who just sent her a friend request.
Looking at the empty contact list, Nina Donovan realized she was logged into the wrong account.
This was the original owner's alt account, a number she rarely used.
Don't ask why. The phone just has dual-SIM capability.
That's why Nina Donovan had given out this number—to avoid blowing her cover.
Her gaze landed on the man's profile picture: a slender, fair hand with well-defined knuckles, holding a smaller hand tightly.
The background was a hospital room. 'It must be him and his sister,' she thought, 'and he used this photo as his profile picture.'
Nina Donovan's eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the hand.
Her intensity made Misty nervous: [Host, have you discovered something?]
"Exquisite."
Misty: [?]
Nina Donovan's eyes lit up. "The owner of this hand has to be good-looking. A hand this beautiful means he's absolutely a ten!"
Misty was confused: [How could you possibly know that? What if he's hideous?]
Nina Donovan zoomed in on the photo before reaching a conclusion. "Based on my years of experience judging hands, his face is definitely handsome."
Misty felt utterly defeated: [...Could we please do something related to the main quest? Like, for instance, sending someone to give the male lead a *real* beating.]
Nina Donovan turned a deaf ear. Finding a man was far more important to her right now than any mission.
She had a thing for hands, and this one left her completely captivated. She decisively tapped "Accept."
A second later, a message popped up from him.
Vernal: [Hello, I'm the patient's older brother. Thank you so much for helping with the ten thousand in medical fees. I will pay you back within two months.]
Nina Donovan went straight to his social media feed.
It was sparse, with only a single post from a year ago.
The picture showed a strong, powerful hand gripping a black pen next to a calendar counting down 645 days until the college entrance exams. It was accompanied by a photo of Aethelgard University.
A high school boy?
Nina Donovan guessed he must be in his senior year of high school—a tender young thing.
To think that in her past life, she'd slaved away until she was twenty-three without ever even holding a guy's hand, dying completely alone.
So, getting a second chance, Nina Donovan was determined to seize the day and make the most of her youth!
Misty's voice dripped with sarcasm: [Have you forgotten that you're going 'offline' in a year? Are you just abandoning the mission to go fishing for men?]
Nina Donovan was unfazed. "So what? Can't I have a little online romance? As long as it doesn't mess with the book's main plotline, it's fine. It's not like I'm ever going to meet this ten-out-of-ten. We'll just have some flirty banter. Once my mission is complete, who needs a man anyway?"
Misty was speechless.
It had been bound to so many hosts, and every single one of them had scrambled to get to the male lead. She was the only one to do the complete opposite and start an online romance with a random guy.
Nina Donovan's alt account had almost no contacts, so she wasn't worried about blowing her cover.
So she sent him a message.
Sonnet: [It's no problem. I don't need the money right away, so there's no rush to pay me back. If you need anything else, just ask. I'll help if I can.]
Step one: leave a kind and generous impression. A good first impression was crucial for making any headway.
Vernal: [Thank you.]
Then, for several long minutes, silence. No more messages came through.
'Just as I thought,' she mused. 'The handsome ones are always the most difficult.'
Nina Donovan decided to make a move.
Sonnet: [Oh, by the way, I never asked your name.]
He didn't reply for a long time.
Nina Donovan pouted resentfully. "You've got to be kidding me! Ten thousand gets me a two-sentence conversation? For that price, I could hire a male entertainer to give me a private dance!"
But then her gaze fell back to the long, slender fingers in the photo, and she practically drooled. 'Oh well, we've only just met. We don't know each other. I'll forgive him.'
So Nina Donovan tossed her phone aside and went to sleep. She had school the next day.
...
「Inside Zero Point Bar, Aldoria.」
Jasper Sherwood, wearing a baseball cap and a black T-shirt, wove through the bustling crowd.
He made a beeline for private room 309.
The thugs who took his money were in there, squandering it.
He kicked the door open. The noisy room fell silent.
Someone recognized him and instantly flew into a rage. "Fuck! Jasper Sherwood, did we let you off too easy? Instead of hiding with your tail between your legs, you actually dare to show your face."
Jasper Sherwood charged forward, grabbing the man by the collar. His eyes were frighteningly cold. "Where's my money?"
"Your money? We spent it all on drinks. It's gone. Get lost!"
He raised his fist and slammed it into the man's face. Piercing screams erupted from inside the private room.
Half an hour later, Jasper Sherwood glanced at the men groaning on the floor. He clutched the two thousand he'd recovered in one hand and wiped a smear of blood from his mouth with the other. Then, he walked out without a backward glance.
As he reached the doorway, he ran into a group of people, with a stony-faced Vivian Sterling trailing behind them.
When Vivian Sterling saw him clearly, her calm expression instantly turned to panic. "Jasper."
Jasper Sherwood ignored her, his gaze fixed on the young man leading the group.
The young man wore black casualwear, his face proud, his aura rebellious. His silver-streaked hair was striking. He raked his sharp, upswept eyes over Jasper, his gaze filled with ridicule and contempt. A lazy smirk played on his lips. "Well, well, if it isn't our campus prodigy, Jasper Sherwood. How did you get so banged up? You look like a stray dog."
His gaze dropped to the crumpled bills in Jasper's hand, his tone growing even more mocking. "Trying to live the high life at a bar with that little cash? You don't quite measure up. How about I treat you? I can certainly spare it."
"Leon Grant! You've gone too far," Vivian Sterling finally snapped.
She hurried to Jasper Sherwood's side, grabbing his wrist. "Jasper, you need to leave."
Jasper Sherwood coolly shook her hand off, stepped to the side, and stared at Leon Grant with a flat, emotionless gaze. "Leash your dogs, or you're next."
With that, he walked away.
Leon Grant's brow furrowed. Before he could even process what Jasper meant, he saw several people being carried out of the bar on stretchers. His face turned livid. Jasper Sherwood had actually dared to threaten him.
'What a tough bastard.'
'What the hell is Nina Donovan doing?' he thought. 'She guaranteed me today that she'd have Jasper Sherwood beaten to a pulp, but here he is, perfectly fine. And somehow, Vivian Sterling now knows I'm the one pulling the strings against him.'
At the thought of Nina Donovan, a look of contempt and disgust flashed in his eyes. 'Useless. She's more trouble than she's worth. Can't even handle one simple task. The fact that she likes me is disgusting.'
Seeing Vivian Sterling about to run after Jasper, Leon Grant grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms. "Why do you insist on deluding yourself? Can't you see he's avoiding you?"
Vivian Sterling's eyes were red, but they burned with defiance. "I don't care if I am! You already have Nina Donovan, so why do you keep pestering me? I'm nothing like you. I'd never sink to your level. You're scum."
"Nina Donovan?" Leon Grant chuckled, leaning close to Vivian Sterling. His voice was a soft, gentle murmur. "She's just my obedient little dog. But you're different, Vivian Sterling. Don't cross me while I'm still being nice to you."
Vivian Sterling was dragged into the club against her will.
Only after he was a safe distance away did Jasper Sherwood pull out his phone. A message notification was waiting on his screen.
The benefactor who saved his sister was asking for his name.
Jasper Sherwood thought for a moment before typing his reply.
Vernal: [Milo Morgan.]