The Real Daughter Returned and Shocked Everyone

Day five of the survival challenge.

The production team announced the final mission.

Cross the most dangerous stretch at the heart of the island, the fog swamp, and claim the champion's flag on the far shore.

Whoever brought back the flag would take the final ten-million prize.

Augusta had taken an anti-diarrheal and pulled herself together.

She spread out the terrain map and the weather data, running fast calculations on her tablet.

Before long she'd sketched out what she called the optimal route.

The other contestants murmured their admiration.

She seemed to have found her confidence again, the genius, the true Joyce heiress.

She shot me a challenging look.

Everyone expected me to crush her once more with my so-called mysticism.

Instead, I did the unexpected and took a step back.

"The swamp's too heavy with bad air. Toxic vapors always rise after noon."

"Anyone who goes in gets turned around and lost, like walking into a wall of ghosts."

"I'm not going. I withdraw."

The comment feed exploded instantly.

"Lola chickened out!"

"She's out of tricks. Can't keep the mystic act going, huh."

"The second things get real, she folds. A fake heiress is a fake heiress."

Augusta seized the chance and mocked me without mercy.

"Lola, quit hiding your ignorance and cowardice behind that hick superstition of yours."

"This is the gap between you and a real heir to a great fortune."

"We believe in science, not ghosts!"

Nathan couldn't understand my decision either.

He came over to talk me out of it. "Lola, this is ten million on the line. Let's go together and watch each other's backs."

I shook my head and refused, firm about it.

The main group set off.

Nathan walked a few steps, hesitated, then doubled back.

He leaned in close and lowered his voice. "Are there really ghosts?"

I glanced at him.

Then, flatly, I translated it into the language of science.

"There aren't any ghosts."

"It's the humus in the swamp releasing methane and phosphine under the high heat of the afternoon."

"Combine that with the local geomagnetic anomalies, and it badly disrupts electronic devices."

"High concentrations of the toxic gas make people hallucinate."

"Her data model didn't account for the shifts in wind direction or air pressure at all."

"Go in now, and it's suicide."

It hit Nathan all at once.

He looked at me with a gaze full of shock and awe.

In the end he chose to believe me, and stayed behind at the starting point.

Augusta led the other few contestants and marched into the swamp, spirits high.

Nathan and I became the internet's laughingstock, the "cowards' duo."

Two hours later.

Just as I'd said, an eerie thick fog rose over the swamp.

Visibility dropped to less than a meter.

Every GPS on Augusta's team failed.

They all lost their bearings, and some even started hallucinating and turning on each other.

The live signal cut in and out.

The last thing it carried was Augusta's screaming, breaking down, and then it went dead.

The production team panicked outright.

The rescue helicopter couldn't get anywhere near the fog zone.

Millions of viewers flooded into my stream in an instant.

The comments turned from mockery to a wall of terrified spam.

"A divine prophecy!"

"Lola, save them, please!"

By then, in my own stream.

The viewers watched in horror as I did the opposite of resting.

I wove a thick cloak out of vines.

I made a few waterproof torches with a special tree resin.

I even used a bamboo tube and activated charcoal to build a crude gas mask.

I handed one of the masks to Nathan.

I stood up and rolled my wrists.

Facing the camera, I gave the first smile since the show began.

"All right."

"Now, it's time to go collect the toll."