Flying Snow Razor Alley

The message landed like a depth charge, plunging the chat into stunned silence.

After a brief pause, a flood of question marks erupted.

“???”

“Holy shit! What’s going on? Sophie has an ex?”

“For real? Where did this guy come from?”

Patrick was the first to speak, his style as blunt as ever. “Who the hell are you? Got any proof?”

Johnny, ever the gentleman, was more polished—but his words cut just as deep. “Friend, it’s rather impolite to barge into someone’s chat and impersonate their ex, don’t you think?”

A cold smirk touched my lips as my fingers flew across the keyboard.

“Proof? There’s a tiny mole on her right collarbone. Sometimes visible if her shirt neckline is wide enough. Does that count?”

The chat fell silent again.

Because it was true.

The location was too intimate. No one but me could possibly know.

**[High alert! Host, that move gets a perfect score from me!]**

**[Hahaha, the real deal selling herself out! This plot twist is everything!]**

**[Quick, look at those two idiot male leads’ reactions.]**

Live comments scrolled in a barrage before my eyes, offering a strange, twisted sort of comfort.

Patrick was clearly thrown. It took him a moment to reply. “…You’re something else.”

Johnny, however, sent only a simple smiley face. Then a private message popped up.

“Name your price. I want everything you have on Sophie.”

The fish was biting.

I didn’t reply to him right away. Instead, I leisurely typed another message into the group.

“I know what game you’re playing. I’m not interested in your little hunt. But I need money. Everything about Sophie—her likes, habits, schedule, even the things you really want to know… it’s all for sale. Highest bidder wins.”

I had just put myself on the auction block: a clearly priced commodity in their hunting ground.

The atmosphere in the chat shifted completely.

From spectators, they became bidders.

“Damn, you can play it like this?”

“This is wild! A live-streamed guide, and it’s pay-to-win?”

“An ex selling out his ex… this guy’s scum. But I’m here for it!”

Jennifer chimed in softly, “This… isn’t very nice, is it? Sophie would be so hurt if she knew.”

Someone immediately backed her up. “Jennifer, you’re just too kind! A man who’d sell anything for money doesn’t deserve Sophie. And we deserve to know these secrets!”

Looking at their hypocritical faces, I just felt sick.

Right then, Patrick’s private message popped up, even more direct than Johnny’s.

“What did she have for dinner today? Where? A thousand.”

I curved my lips into a smile and typed back. “A thousand? Patrick, are you trying to pay off a beggar? What I’m selling is exclusive, top-secret intel.”

Almost at the same time, I replied to Johnny. “What would the Student Council President like to know? Information comes in tiers, prices vary. Basic info package, five thousand a day. Exclusive, in-depth details, priced separately.”

I knew these rich kids’ psychology all too well.

The more elusive and expensive something was, the more they wanted it.

Sure enough, Johnny replied instantly. “Fine. I need her full schedule for the next week, and the thing she hates most. Ten thousand. I’ll transfer it now.”

And Patrick, right after my message, sent a transfer notification. Fifteen thousand.

“Happy now? Talk.”

Without hesitation, I clicked accept. Watching my account balance jump by fifteen thousand—money I couldn’t earn in two months at the convenience store—the last shred of shame in my heart was crushed under the weight of reality.

Calmly, I replied to Patrick. “That noodle place across from school. Mild spice, extra enoki mushrooms.”

Then I sent Johnny a detailed spreadsheet: my work schedule, my class locations for the coming week, and… my fabricated “most hated things.”

**[Things I Hate Most: Cilantro, cheap perfume, fake concern.]**

Putting down my phone, I stepped out of the stuffy storage room. The evening breeze brushed my face, cool and faint.

In the glass door of the convenience store, the reflection showed a slender girl, her back ramrod straight.

Her eyes were terrifyingly calm.

I knew it. From the moment I hit ‘send,’ I was no longer that naive, timid Sophie.

I was the hunter, holding the knife. And my prey? Those two arrogant, self-proclaimed apex predators.