The Player’s Hundred Deaths

I simply stood and watched Julian quietly.

I knew his allergies better than his personal physician, but there was nothing I could do if he decided he was allergic to lemons at that moment.

Mila wheeled on me with a vicious glare and splashed the piping hot soup on my face right then. "Are you trying to kill Julian?! What, do you think you'll win if he dies?!"

Although I felt the scalding heat tearing through my skin, I frowned and fought against the pain to answer, "I'm sorry."

She wouldn't understand no matter what I said anyway, so why not hope for her to kill me so I could return sooner?

Behind her, Julian was smiling smugly as he watched me suffer, but he was soon once again the kind-hearted Julian as he caught Mila's wrist to stop her. "That's enough. Ben didn't mean any harm."

Mila glared coolly at me nonetheless. "Clean it up."

I dropped to a crouch, picking up the glass shards with my bare fingers, not bothered by the pain as the glass cut into my skin.

For some reason, that left Mila annoyed and she pulled me to my feet. "Can't you use a broom? Are you trying to win sympathy points?!"

Eventually, she shoved me aside and called in a care worker.

Julian frowned as Mila stood by my side, and quickly changed the subject. "Oh, that reminds me. Did you tell Ben about the next show?"

Mila eyed me and said quietly, "Julian wants handmade pottery made for his show next month. Make him a piece in the next couple days."

I'd learnt pottery and was basically a master at it, but it would take time and energy.

And in the days leading to my forty-sixth death, Milla had me work day and night as a joke.

My eyes were damaged while I died at midnight from overworking, and my sight remained poor even after I was revived.

The doctor told me not to work, and Mila knew about it—she just didn't care.

Still, I turned to smile at Mila tenderly with a look of pure, endless love. "Okay, I will."

Mila was taken aback, as if caught off guard by my gaze, and turned away, pouting. "When you're done, I'll take you abroad to see a better doctor."

I shook my head. "It's alright. I will do anything for you—you don't have to feel guilty for it."

Mila looked into my innocent gaze, her usual look of apathy twitching for the first time.

However, I wasn't bothered if Mila would treat my eyes.

Once I was gone from this world, anything that happened here wouldn't matter to me, and I certainly wouldn't have to care about my eyes.

Her lips twitching, Mila wanted to speak, but Julian was suddenly clutching his head and groaning, "Mila…"

Mila promptly turned to check on him, instantly forgetting that I was still there.

I wasn't interested in lingering, returning to my house and promptly doing what Julian had asked me to.

If I could, I'd really rather have died from overwork just like before.

After all, I couldn't wait to see Yvie again, after being away from her for so long.

Pottery took complete focus, and there couldn't be mistakes.

On top of that, what Julian wanted was really difficult to make, and I worked tirelessly for days.

My eyes were beady from overwork, while my brain suffered from swelling pain.

My eyes blurred right before I passed out, not noticing Mila's name flashing on my phone screen.

In my sleep, I felt a pair of hands on my forehead.

Thinking that I'd died and returned to the real world, I opened my eyes and exclaimed in excitement, "Yvie!"

Instead, I found myself staring into Mila's eyes narrowed dangerously at myself. "Who's Yvie?!"