My parents' enemy kidnaps me and livestreams chopping off my fingers just to force them to show up.

For a time, the entire Internet searches for my parents. But what they don't know is that the captain who appeared in the livestream is my biological father.

At that moment, he's on a beach in Hashford, setting off magnificent fireworks for his adopted daughter. And on their barbecue table, the livestream of my fingers being severed is playing.

Later on, when I survive long enough to be rescued, I reach out my mangled hand to touch my parents.

They recoil in disgust and leave without looking back, taking the adopted daughter out for Wersole food.

But they don't know that the thing hidden within my mangled palm will make them regret their actions beyond measure.

When I was kidnapped by my parents' enemy, Bruce Cohen, he had arrogantly started a livestream of it for the whole Internet to see.

Twelve hours had passed, and all my fingers had been chopped off except for one.

The comment section was in a frenzy.

"I can't take it anymore! She's screaming so miserably!"

"Didn't they say if the parents contacted them, they'd release her? Where are the parents?"

"Is she even their biological daughter?"

Bruce also grew impatient with waiting, and finally, he tore off the tape from my mouth.

I was just about to explain that, as my parents were in the special forces and often went on dangerous missions, they had no way of doing what he wanted.

Just then, I received a vacation photo from the adopted daughter, Evonne Watson.

"Penelope, I've landed in Hashford with Mom and Dad!"

"Mom and Dad said you would spoil the mood if you came, so they want to celebrate my 18th birthday with just me."

In the photo, my parents embraced Evonne on each side, their gazes full of affection. Behind them were my relatives—aunts, uncles, cousins, and even my graying grandmother. They looked like one big happy family.

So, while I was kidnapped and the whole ordeal was livestreamed on the internet, not a single family member had noticed.

Bruce suspiciously looked at me and told me to make a call.

The moment Mom heard it was me, her tone turned impatient. "I just knew you would ruin the mood! Ever since we brought you back from the countryside, there hasn't been a single peaceful day at home. Evonne has never had a proper birthday since then.

"This time, no matter what you say, we won't neglect Evonne because of you."

I ignored the bitterness and pain I felt and quickly said, "Mom, I've been kidnapped—"

With an almost disgusted tone, Mom cut me off and said, "Penelope Watson! You're such a drama queen! When you die, I'll come and collect your body then!" Mom then hung up the call without hesitation.

At the same time, I received a message from Evonne.

"Penelope, Mom and Dad really hate you. After Mom hung up on you, Dad also blocked you and even told me not to talk to you."

My heart felt like someone was squeezing it, and it brought me a pain that was worse than losing my fingers.

Dazed, I felt my consciousness sinking deeper while my body grew lighter.

Just then, Bruce dumped a bucket of cold water over my head. "Are you thinking of passing out? No way!

"If your parents don't contact me, I'll keep torturing you. You still have one finger left. When that's gone, there are toes. And after the toes, I'll cut off your ears!"

The comment section was instantly filled with curses. They berated Bruce for being insane, but even more so, they berated my parents for being heartless. Some people even cursed the special forces.

"Are the special forces useless? Twelve hours have passed, so why haven't they located the kidnapper yet?"

"Forget the kidnapper! We should drag her worthless parents out first! What sin did she commit to suffer like this?"

"What a monster! If you've got guts, go after the adults. What did the kid do to deserve this?"

Despite how anxious the commenters were, Bruce still swung the knife and cut off my remaining pinky finger.

It hurt! It really hurt! It hurt so much that I wanted to die.

My sharp cries made the viewers watching cover their ears. Even the rapidly moving comment section froze for a moment.

At that moment, a highlighted comment caught Bruce's attention.

"Contact me! I am Special Forces Captain Zachary Watson!"

The name "Zachary Watson" cleared my muddled brain for a moment.

It was Dad! He had noticed me and was coming to rescue me!

The call connected, but the voice that rang out wasn't Dad's.

Bruce clearly noticed too, and he instantly flew into a rage, wanting to cut off one of my ears as punishment.

The other person at the end of the line quickly stopped him, saying, "Don't be impulsive! I'm Zachary's superior, Peter Myers. This was the only way we could get to you!

"You kidnapped the wrong person. The whole team knows Zachary has only one daughter named Evonne. They're all on vacation abroad now.

"You can state whatever demands you have, but don't involve an innocent child!"

Bruce roughly dragged me over and forced me to kneel in front of the screen.

I was tied to a chair, and as he dragged me, my knees scraped hard against the ground.

Pain shot through my entire body. Still, it was nothing compared to the pain I felt in my heart.

Bruce coldly sneered. "Look closely at this face! This is Zachary's biological daughter! Call him now, or I'll kill her!"

Helpless, Peter had no choice but to call Dad.

However, the first voice that came through was Evonne's.

"Dad, it's too expensive to buy both dresses. Maybe we should just save the money for…

"Dad, you take the call first."

Then, Dad said, "Sir, is something wrong?"

Peter immediately asked him how many daughters he had.

Without hesitation, Dad replied, "We only have one daughter, Evonne. Why? Is something wrong?"

With that, Peter explained my situation.

Dad responded with a hint of regret, "What a foolish criminal. He didn't even realize he'd kidnapped the wrong person.

"Although I feel sympathy and guilt that an innocent child suffered misfortune because of me, my family and I are abroad right now. It's too late to return."

"And honestly, this child's parents are something else. How could they still have not shown up? How irresponsible!"

Peter asked again, "Just in case, could you come back? Maybe Bruce would release the child then."

When Evonne saw Dad hesitate, she pitifully cried out, "It's okay, Dad. My birthday isn't important. That girl is really pitiful. Every time I celebrate my birthday, something bad happens to someone.

"I'll never celebrate my birthday again."

Immediately, Dad said, "I won't go. I won't…"

After comforting Evonne, he directly refused Peter, saying, "Sorry, sir. After all these years of risking our lives, my wife and I just want to celebrate our only daughter's birthday."

Their only daughter, huh? But I was clearly their only biological daughter.

My parents never acknowledged me in public and never got me registered—just because I was trafficked as a child, grew up in the countryside, wasn't pretty or smart, and didn't fit in with the family.

My chest heaved violently and burned with pain. My organs spasmed, making me retch uncontrollably.

Peter was still loudly pleading for me through the call, but Bruce turned a deaf ear. He tore off my shoes and, with pliers in his hand, viciously said, "Remember, everything you're suffering through now is because of your parents!"

With that, he crushed my little toe.

The excruciating pain made me struggle violently. In the commotion, I kicked over the phone that was livestreaming, sending it crashing to the ground.

As it fell, I caught sight of a highlighted comment in the livestream chat.

"I'm Evonne's classmate. I swear I saw Evonne celebrating her birthday here. What's going on?"

Evonne hadn't left the country? Then what about my parents and the rest of my family?

If they were still in the country, how could they not have seen the livestream? How could they not have saved me?

I ignored the nearby Bruce and desperately crawled on the ground, looking for my phone. I used my broken finger to open the photo of Hashford that Evonne had sent me.

I zoomed in, then zoomed in again.

It was then that I clearly saw the buildings in the picture.

It wasn't Hashford at all. This was clearly the beach in our city!

I heard Bruce mockingly laugh behind me. "Your parents never went abroad. They're just hiding like cowards! They don't want to save you at all!"

At that moment, the last string of sanity in my mind snapped. This terrifying truth was something I didn't dare think about, not even for a second.

I crawled over and grabbed the phone that was livestreaming. With my face marred with blood and tears, I heartwrenchingly screamed into the screen, "Dad, Mom, it's Penelope! Don't you see me?

"All my fingers are gone! I'm in so much pain, and I'm about to die! Are you really not going to care about me? I'm your biological daughter!"

The comment section became even more frenzied.

"My heart is breaking from this kid's cries!"

"I'm the kid's father! You bad man, let her go! I'll pay the ransom!"

"I'm the kid's mother! Release my kid and take Evonne instead!"

"We are all this child's parents! Just state your conditions!"

Online, countless commenters called themselves my parents, but my real parents never showed up.

In fact, ever since I'd returned to the Watsons, all I ever received daily were cold stares and disdain. When I was happy, they scolded me for stealing Evonne's things. When I was sad, they said I ruined the mood.

Still, because of my blood ties to them, I longed for my parents' love. I had naively believed that they loved me too.

Suddenly, Bruce ended the livestream and coldly declared, "Your parents aren't coming to save you."

I covered my ears and blankly murmured, "No, maybe they just didn't see it…"

Bruce yanked my hair hard, shoved my phone in front of me, and mocked, "An unloved child like you is truly pitiful! Face reality, kid."

On the phone, Evonne had sent me a new video. In the video, the Watsons had lit up rows of fireworks on the beach. Under the glow of the fireworks, they enjoyed a barbecue together, raising their glasses to wish Evonne a happy birthday.

In the corner of the video, I saw a phone casually tossed on the table, playing the livestream of me being tortured.

My unbearable screams were drowned out by their cheerful laughter.

Evonne quickly deleted the video. Then, she gloatingly said, "Oops! I sent it to the wrong person! Dad said we all have to pretend we never saw you.

"My dear sister, just pretend you didn't see that. Oh, wait, it doesn't matter if you see it or not. After all, you're just a filthy country bumpkin—you deserve to die."

I collapsed on the ground, my hands trembling uncontrollably as fresh blood gushed from my severed fingers. But my tear ducts had dried up by then, and I could no longer shed a single tear.

"Do you hate them? Why should they be enjoying themselves as a family while you suffer alone here? If I were you, I'd take revenge and make that animalistic family pay the price!"

Bruce grabbed my trembling hand and shoved a remote control into it. "As soon as you press this button, the video of Zachary and his wife torturing my daughter to death back then will be uploaded to every major video site.

"He will be ruined and disgraced. He will regret ignoring you today."

With bloodshot eyes, Bruce fiercely glared at me. "I want Zachary to be ruined at the hands of his own daughter."