Joel kicked the door open and pointed at me in accusation.

"Jocelyn, this is your real goal, isn't it? You deliberately lowered our guard just to pull this stunt and ruin Vivian's career?"

Before I could respond, my mother slapped me hard across the face.

"I never thought your heart could be this vicious. Vivian is your sister! Go to the hospital right now and apologize to her!"

Only on the way did I finally understand what had happened.

Vivian had recently branded herself online as a high-value jewelry designer. That afternoon, she had posted my design draft, and it quickly earned praise from her fans.

But some sharp-eyed netizens noticed it was the same piece I had once partially sketched and shared on X.

Accusations of plagiarism erupted. The controversy snowballed, and people flooded her account with insults and criticism.

Joel and my parents couldn't tolerate even the slightest grievance toward Vivian. That very night, they rushed over to confront me.

With my cheek still swollen from the slap, I was dragged straight to the hospital.

Tears streaming down her face, Vivian looked at me and said, "Jocelyn, we're family. Why would you do this to me?"

My father kicked the back of my knee, forcing me down onto the ground.

"Kneel and apologize!"

I remained on my knees, lifting my eyes to them. I felt no urge to defend myself at all.

Whatever they wanted—I would give it to them.

So I said exactly what they wanted to hear.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lent you my design draft, and I shouldn't have posted my process on X. I'll delete my account and clarify online that I was the one who plagiarized."

The room went silent for a brief moment. It seemed they hadn't expected me to obey so readily.

My mother was the first to recover.

"You've finally learned to be sensible," she said. "As long as you clarify online that you were the plagiarist, this matter will be settled."

My father nodded in approval.

"Jocelyn, you've finally learned to care for your sister. Seeing you two getting along like this… your mother and I can rest easy when we're gone."

Even my husband looked satisfied.

"You're my wife. Even if you can't continue as a designer in the future, I'll support you. You won't go hungry."

A faint, pale smile tugged at my lips.

It was precisely because of them that I had been pushed into a dead end.

Very soon, Vivian went live on her account, tearfully claiming she was the real victim of plagiarism.

"I never imagined the person who stole my work would be my own sister," she sobbed. "This design was something I drew at home. I never expected my sister to secretly take it and post it online, claiming it as her own."

Then she turned the camera toward me.

My parents and Joel all shot me warning looks, afraid I might say anything unfavorable.

I curved my lips slightly and spoke calmly.

"Yes. I plagiarized Vivian. The design draft I posted before belongs to her."

The moment I said it, all three of them visibly relaxed.

Almost instantly, the internet exploded with curses and abuse directed at me.

Seeing this, Vivian quickly wiped her tears and pleaded, "Please don't say that about her. No matter what, she is still my sister—my family."

She pulled me into her arms tightly, staging a perfect display of sisterly affection for the camera.

But leaning close to my ear, she whispered with a cold smirk, "Jocelyn, our parents, your lover, your career… everything is mine now. What exactly do you have left to compete with me?"

From the moment she became aware of herself, Vivian had treated me as her enemy.

She had always been weak and sickly, poor at her studies, and she firmly believed that I had stolen all the nutrients in the womb, leaving her frail and inferior.

When I was ten, I ranked first in the entire class. She came in last.

Our parents praised me, and that praise planted hatred in her heart. She tricked me out and pushed me into a river.

As I hovered on the brink of death, I was chosen by the system as a "strategy host"—and that was how I survived.

From that moment on, a decade-long struggle between us began.

But eight years of trying failed to earn me my parents' affection. Five years failed to win me Joel's love.

Compared to her, I had indeed lost completely.

I raised my hand and gently pushed her away.

"You win," I said softly.

I left the hospital room and went downstairs to get some air.

The kidney transplant would begin in the afternoon. After that, I would disappear from this world entirely.

Would my parents or Joel shed even a single tear for me then?

The thought had barely formed when a group of men and women suddenly blocked my path.

"You shameless serial plagiarist! Vivian may forgive you, but we won't!"

"You're a tumor in the design world! Just because you're her sister, you think you can plagiarize so openly? Let's see how we deal with you today!"

"Girls, hit her!"

Recognizing them as Vivian's fanatical supporters, I immediately stepped back.

But rotten eggs and spoiled vegetables still rained down on me. The stench clung to my body, and the crowd around us recoiled in disgust.

That only emboldened them further. Someone picked up a stone from the ground and hurled it at me.

The rock was larger than a fist. I knew I had nowhere to dodge.

So I closed my eyes.

If I died like this… maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

But the expected pain never came.

Joel had stepped in front of me, shielding me completely. He quickly called security, and the attackers were dragged away to the police station.

I stared at the blood streaking across his forehead.

"Your head—"

He ignored it and checked me frantically from head to toe.

"How are you? The surgery is this afternoon. You cannot afford to be injured right now."

At that moment, whatever remaining hope I had inside me shattered completely.

I looked at him and let out a self-mocking laugh.

"Don't worry. I won't delay donating my kidney to Vivian."

That afternoon, Vivian and I changed into blue surgical gowns and walked toward the operating room.

My parents and Joel surrounded her, soothing her gently.

"Vivian, don't be afraid. Mom and Dad are right outside. The surgery will be successful. When you wake up, Mom will make you your favorite dessert."

Joel took out a pink diamond necklace.

"This is the necklace you said you liked last time. I've already bought it. I'll give it to you when you come out."

Not a single one of them looked at me—the one also about to enter the operating room.

I thought I had already grown used to it. But my heart still tightened with a dense, aching pain.

In the end, I couldn't help but ask, "If I die in that operating room… would you be sad for me?"

The moment the words left my mouth, all three of them frowned in displeasure.

"Jocelyn, it's just one kidney. How could you possibly die?"

"You can live perfectly fine with one kidney. Stop acting pitiful here!"

"I've already hired the best medical team. You'll be perfectly safe. Just go in and behave yourself."

Under their reprimands, I walked into the operating room without hesitation.

Anesthesia was injected into my body. I could clearly feel the cold blade of the scalpel cutting through me.

At the same time, the system's final countdown echoed in my ears.

"Five… four… three… two… one…"

"Host erasure complete."

In my next life, I never want to meet them again.