Watch Me Test Rat Poison (For My Girlfriend's Sweetheart)

Brielle Davenport tells me to test out rat poison on her childhood sweetheart, Trevor Whitlock's live stream, just so the popularity can be boosted.

"All you lose is a life, you know. Meanwhile, Trev has always dreamed of becoming a popular streamer."

Then, Brielle hands the rat poison to me.

I don't turn her down. Instead, I lift the rat poison to my lips and drink it right in front of the camera.

Naturally, my actions boost Trevor to the top spot of the platform, making him the most popular male streamer. The delighted Brielle is quick to throw him an afterparty to celebrate his success.

The next day, when Brielle opens the door to the studio, she notices my stiff figure on the floor, my lips still bluish-purple from the poison.

She has always been cold and aloof, and yet, she crumbles from anxiety on the spot.

I used to come back to life within two hours after my death. Yet, this time, I show no signs of life.

Brielle keeps calling out my name. Later on, she can only listen in disbelief as the doctor pronounces my death.

Meanwhile, I've already stirred awake in my original world and started my life anew.

The truth is, I've transmigrated into this book eight times in a row. In the first seven times, Brielle had saved me seven times, but she also hurt me that many times.

In the eighth attempt, I return seven lives to her. Finally, I'm able to leave this world once and for all.

This was the sixth time I'd died for Brielle Davenport. Just one more death, and I would finally be able to sever the bond of fate with her completely.

When I opened my eyes, I met Brielle's panicked gaze.

She let out a sigh of relief, then abruptly shoved me away. "Why aren't you getting up if you're already awake? Do you think lying there is going to make anyone take pity on you?"

Brielle's tone was filled with indifference. It was as if she wasn't the very woman who had wept uncontrollably at my bedside after I used myself as a cushion to break Logan Holloway's fall.

Before I could even process things, the pain from my shattered bones crashed over me like a wave.

This was my sixth death, and my body's ability to heal was getting weaker with each one.

The first time, Brielle and I were in a car accident. I took the fatal blow for her, and she cried by my bedside until she could barely breathe.

The third time, her childhood friend, Logan, needed a heart transplant. She begged me tearfully to give him mine.

The fifth time, I exhausted myself saving Logan, who was drowning, and died in the water. But when I woke up, he claimed I had tried to drown him.

And every single time, without exception, Brielle chose to believe him.

"Bree…" Logan's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

He was hiding behind Brielle, his eyes red-rimmed. "Trev, I know you don't like me, but how could you… how could you push me off the 17th floor?"

A flicker of displeasure crossed Brielle's eyes. "When did you become so cruel, Trev? Didn't I already tell you that there's absolutely nothing going on between Logan and me?"

The way Brielle looked at me seemed like she wanted nothing more than to skin me alive.

I watched the two of them proclaiming their innocence, all while clinging tightly to each other, and suddenly found it all laughable.

Her expression darkened when she saw me keeping quiet, and she spat, "Apologize."

I smiled and met her gaze. "Brielle, I did nothing wrong."

Last night, Logan had asked me to meet him on the rooftop. With a vicious look on his face, he said, "Bree says you won't ever die. But that won't do. If you don't die, how can I ever be with her?"

Then he charged at me, using me to cushion his fall. We had plummeted from the 17th floor together as he held me tightly.

However, my reaction only infuriated Brielle. She stared at me darkly and said, "Trevor Whitlock, how the hell did you turn into such a person?"

I listened to Brielle's accusations, long since used to them. Ever since Logan returned to the country, she had started viewing me as nothing but a jealous, spiteful man.

When I tried to reach for a glass of water, I realized that I couldn't even lift my arm.

Noticing my failed attempt, Logan immediately picked up a glass of water and came over. "It's my presence that's upsetting him. I apologize, Trev."

But before I could take the glass of water from him, he accidentally poured the scalding water onto my wounds. The searing pain tore a cry out of me.

"I'm sorry, Trev. I… I didn't mean to…" Logan tugged at Brielle's sleeve, his eyes welling up with tears and looking pitiful once again.

"Why are you putting on an act? You can clearly heal yourself, yet you're deliberately scaring Logan. Trevor, do you really hate him that much?" Brielle asked, her eyes filled with disgust.

Looking down at the festering wound on my leg, I let out a bitter laugh inwardly.

"Bree, my hand hurts so bad…"

Brielle anxiously examined Logan's injury. It was just a tiny scratch, but she called in several doctors for him.