The Real Heroine Logs In

The atmosphere inside the private room was suffocatingly tense.

Janet sat at the head of the table, dressed in a delicate white dress, looking fragile and wronged. Her eyes were swollen red, as if she was crying for hours.

Around her sat five men–each one powerful in his own way.

To her left were Cedric and Shadow.

To her right sat the refined menace, Miracle Hands.

In the center–lazily flipping a lighter in his hand–was Lance Farcaster.

The crown prince of one of the city's most elite families. And the number two top spender on our server.

Beside him, lounging with one leg propped up on the coffee table, looking thoroughly annoyed, was a sharp-looking guy with a buzz cut–

Matthew Crater.

The campus king from the neighboring sports academy. And the number one archer in the entire server.

The moment I stepped inside, Janet shot to her feet.

She pointed straight at me, her voice shrill with outrage, like she suffered some unbearable injustice.

"Eleanor! You shameless account thief–you finally showed up!"

The room fell silent instantly.

All five pairs of eyes locked onto me at once.

Cedric and Shadow stood up immediately, instinctively moving as if to shield me.

Seeing that, Janet's tears spilled even harder, like beads snapping off a broken string.

"Cedric, Shadow–don't be fooled by her!"

"She's not Moonlight Glow at all!"

"She's just the real daughter my family recently took back. Because my parents favor her, she forcibly took over my max-level account–

"And she even stole my personal photos to impersonate me and meet you!"

Still crying, she slammed her battered laptop onto the table.

The screen lit up with the game's login page.

"This computer is proof!

"The login credentials for the account have always been saved on my device!

"She grew up outside, barely able to afford food–how could she possibly spend enough to become number one on the server?"

Her tearful accusations dragged the temperature in the room straight to freezing.

Cedric and Shadow froze, their gazes flickering uncertainly between the two of us.

Lance raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by the unfolding drama.

Matthew, on the other hand, dropped his foot from the table, his eyes turning sharp and hostile as he stared me down.

"Hey. You," he said coldly. "Did you steal the account or not?"

…

[Janet is so brave! She finally confronted her head-on!]

[Exactly–this villainess just swooped in and stole everything. Where's the proof she owns the account?]

[Janet has login credentials. That's solid evidence. The truth's about to come out!]

[Matthew is so fierce–I love it. Kick this fake out already!]

…

I looked at Janet, standing there with that righteous, aggrieved expression, and almost felt like handing her an Oscar.

Slowly, I walked to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down with casual ease–completely unfazed by Matthew's hostility.

"Janet," I said calmly, "You claim the account is yours. The photos, too."

I let out a soft, cold laugh, my gaze sharp as a blade.

"Then why don't you explain something to everyone here?

"If those photos are really yours–why are you sneaking around wearing the custom Chanel dress our parents bought for me, just to pass it off as your own?

"And if the account is yours–"

I leaned back slightly, voice steady and cutting.

"Why don't you prove it right now, in front of all five of them?

"Open the real-name verification system and do a face scan verification."