Tom Brown had once told me that every century, the heir of the Eldritch Runes would face a perilous ordeal fraught with danger.

I didn't buy it, so I challenged him to a bet.

Little did I know that I, who had been undefeated for ninety-nine years, would actually lose.

"Lydia Swift, I win. So, you should descend to the mortal world to inscribe runes," Tom joked.

His words still echoed in my mind.

In the blink of an eye, my fate had arrived.

Reluctantly, I sat alone amidst the clouds.

I cradled my chin in my palm, lost in thought, scheming on how to honor my bet discreetly.

Suddenly, a flash of dark red caught my eye atop the misty mountains.

I peered closer, finding a delicate girl draped in red.

For some inexplicable reason, she stood solitary at the brink of an endless abyss, singing and dancing without any discernible pattern or purpose.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, she pleaded, "Please, follow me."

My mind was swirling with doubts, and I was just about to step closer for a better look.

However, I witnessed her leap into the abyss.

Without a second thought, I darted towards her like an arrow.

When I awoke, my stomach churned with discomfort.

The pungent smell of medicine made me nauseous.

After retching, I realized I was lying on a transparent plank road.

The ground was marred with filth, and a deep, foreboding abyss opened up right beneath my feet.

In my hand, I clutched a piece of paper with elegant writing.

[It was my own choice, so no one else is to blame.]

What a coincidence!

I descended to Earth to honor my bet.

To my astonishment, I had possessed the body of a girl who had attempted suicide by drinking pesticide and jumping off a cliff!

She was in the full bloom of youth, so why did she choose to end her life?

Sighing, I delved into her memories, seeking the reason she committed suicide.

Yet, she closed off her heart entirely before her death, leaving behind no clues to her reasons.

The only wish I could glean was her desire for her live broadcast to reach a million fans!

I was stunned.

I pondered, "Had the world's live streaming culture evolved to such extremes?

Did not reaching a million fans mean death?"

My confusion was interrupted by a flickering light.

It was only at that moment I noticed that there was an old, battered cell phone held at arm's length. Its camera lens was fixed squarely on me.

Comments flooded the screen.

I thought, "Holy crap!

This girl was live streaming her own suicide!

Could millions of fans truly mean more to her than life itself?"

I couldn't comprehend it, yet I was utterly stunned by the revelation!

A surge of curiosity overwhelmed me. What could she possibly gain if her fan count hit that one million mark?

Could this number truly be worth risking her very life for?

Pondering this, I shifted my focus back to the phone that was still directed at me.

However, due to the suddenness of her act, not a single viewer in the live broadcast realized she had just taken her own life!

The screen was nearly overwhelmed with question marks as comments flooded in; everyone was left speechless, grappling with the confusion of what had just unfolded.

Netizen 1: [Hey! What just happened? I only caught a glimpse of the host suddenly lying down on the glass walkway!]

Netizen 2: [That's all? Is she just pretending to jump for show?]

Netizen 3: [Oops! Others fake a tumble on the red carpet, but here's our host faking a leap off a cliff! What on earth is going on?]

Faced with this, all I could manage was a wry smile. My sympathy for the girl's plight grew with each passing second.

Given that I had the opportunity to save her and I was also tasked with the responsibility of overseeing the bet involving the crafting of runes in the mortal realm, I decided to use her body for a hundred days to aid her in fulfilling her final wish.

Once I made my decision, I instantly shifted my mindset and fully embraced the role in a mere second.

Wearing an expression of harmless sincerity, I lifted my face and smiled warmly at the camera, beginning to explain.

"My fans just surpassed 1,000. I was so thrilled that I jumped into a dance to celebrate without even a hint. How impolite of me!"

No sooner had I spoken than a fan, going by "Mashed Potato", eagerly typed out: [Who cares about that? Let's see something with real substance!]

Seeing this, I offered my advice with genuine sincerity.

"I'm not sure about much else, but how about I demonstrate how to craft a rune?"

This sparked a frenzy of comments.

MysticMuse: [Runes? Is that something that can actually work through a screen?]

GamerGuru99: [Nine times out of ten, she's a fraud! I'm steering clear for now!]

King of Hardships: [Take my advice. Quit the nonsense, put on some black stockings, and I'll tip you.]

Despite the mounting skepticism, I declared earnestly, "My runes are potent. They can turn misfortune into fortune. There's no problem I can't solve."

My declaration sparked a tidal wave of reactions, and soon, another flood of comments burst forth from the screen.

Netizen 1: [Wow, I can vouch that the host is so committed to this scam. It feels like I'm watching from another dimension!]

Netizen 2: [Oh my god! You're so stubborn! You're really asking for trouble now!]

Netizen 3: [Oh, I love her stubborn charm. She's cool!]

No one believed me, yet the chat was abuzz.

I made a quiet decision to flaunt my skills first.

Just as I looked for an opportunity, a commotion broke out nearby.

Clutching my phone, I continued the live stream, making my way toward the growing crowd.

It turned out a little girl had gone missing while playing.

At the center of the commotion, a woman in a black dress sat on the ground, wailing inconsolably.

The staff of the scenic spot used a loudspeaker to repeatedly broadcast the missing child's details.

An idea struck me. It was a perfect chance to showcase my abilities.

I pulled out a sheet of yellow paper, the kind always tucked away by members of the Eldritch Runes.

Ensuring it was visible, I gently guided the situation.

"I'm going to craft runes now to help this mother find her daughter. If I succeed, will you follow me?"

No sooner had I spoken than a chorus of responses flooded the comment.

One fan, going by the moniker "Crazy Scholar," made a bold proclamation. Crazy Scholar: [Quit the theatrics. Craft the runes now! If you help find that kid, I'll get all 66 members of my family to follow you!]

Noticing the impatience brewing among the viewers, I flicked my hand with a casual air. Instantly, a mystical pen dipped in cinnabar materialized.

At that moment, the pen tip danced like a wild horse freed from its reins.

With just one fluid stroke, a tracking rune came to life on the paper.

Driven by urgency to locate the child, I brushed past the flurry of exclamations in the comments and made a beeline for the woman in the black dress, who collapsed on the ground.

With a deft flick of my finger, the rune, imbued with an almost ethereal grace, affixed itself steadfastly to the sole of her shoe.

In the very next heartbeat, the woman, whose tears had painted trails down her cheeks, paused as if she caught the whisper of a change.

She ascended. Heedless of the tears streaking her face, she dashed down the mountainside.

Once the staff caught on to the unfolding drama, they trailed behind despite their bewilderment at the unfolding events.

Driven by the need to swell my ranks of followers, I lifted my phone, capturing each of her frenzied steps as I followed in her wake.

The entire episode was live-streamed to my fans.

I pursued her relentlessly to the mountain's heart.

The woman beelined for a nearby public restroom.

She stopped before a closed door.

Then, she went wild.

Using her slight frame, she rammed it again and again.

She called out with a voice laced with anxiety, "Baby! Baby!"

Realizing the urgency, the staff behind her kicked open the long-resistant door.

The moment it swung ajar, everyone froze in shock!

There sat a middle-aged woman with a menacing glare on the toilet.

She stared at the door in panic.

Her strong arms clutched a girl dressed as a boy.

The girl seemed asleep, eyes closed.

Her head was peculiarly half-bald.

The middle-aged woman held an electric razor in her half-raised hand.

Strands of hair lay scattered next to the toilet alongside a sparkling dress.

"Ah!"

A heart-rending scream pierced the air.

The woman in her black dress charged forward like a wounded lioness rushing to protect her cub.

With bloodshot eyes, she snatched the sleeping girl.

With her body curled protectively around her child, she sobbed through her tears, "Nancy, wake up! Please wake up!"

With the aid of the staff, the woman in black, whose hands quaked with emotion, managed to give her daughter a sip of water.

She gently patted her daughter.

Nancy, her daughter, regained consciousness.

Holding Nancy, the woman wailed uncontrollably.

Soon, the staff and security guards of the scenic area apprehended the middle-aged woman in the stall.

Satisfied with the resolution, I took my leave.

Finding a quiet spot, I checked my phone screen.

As anticipated, the comments in the live stream surged in such a torrent that I couldn't possibly keep pace.

Cold Bread: [Did I just see that right? Did the streamer draw a rune to help that mom?]

Piggy Heart: [Believe it! The kid was almost bald in different clothes, lost in the crowd!]

Single-eyed Cricket: [I've never seen anything like it! I'm a witness! This streamer is legit!]

Crazy Scholar: [Holy moly! You found the girl! Streamer, my whole family's following you now!]

Watching my follower count soar, I was secretly elated. The strategy of live-streaming rune crafting to amass followers actually worked!

The most potent hour for rune crafting was midnight.

So, the next day, I scheduled the live stream for 11 p.m.

In the prime spot for all to see, I placed the captivating title: [Help Me Gain 100 Followers and You'll Get a Free Rune]

Buoyed by yesterday's spectacle at the scenic spot, a cohort of loyal fans quickly populated the live stream.

My primary goal was to increase my follower base.

Therefore, I didn't rush to begin but sat quietly in front of the camera, waiting for my loyal fans to draw in the first wave of newcomers.

Sure enough, fresh faces trickled in.

Candlecandy: [Wow! Is this a new streamer? What's your special skill?]

I calmly uttered two words, "Runes crafting."

The comments on the screen instantly polarized into two distinct factions.

Some, likely having watched yesterday's stream, believed in my abilities.

Netizen 1: [Caught yesterday's stream. This streamer's legit! Instant fan here!]

Others doubted, thinking live rune crafting was a scam.

Even yesterday's success, they argued, was mere coincidence.

Netizen 2: [Live rune crafting? Can that even work through a screen? Yesterday was just dumb luck!]

Regardless of the skepticism, I offered no defense on camera.

I was well aware that in my sect, the paramount principle was the concept of "destiny."

Only the one chosen by destiny could be fortunate enough to benefit from the runes crafted by me, the 999th heir of the Eldritch Runes!

The debate intensified.

A distinct notification chime pierced the air.

A private message arrived!

When I tapped on it, my screen was awash with screenshots, easily numbering a hundred or more!

Before I could scrutinize them, a comment charged forth.

Rebellionist: [Enough bickering! I'm a natural skeptic. Let's see if this streamer's the real deal?]

Rebellionist: [I've got 100 people to follow you. Check your DMs for the proof!]

The first person chosen by destiny arrived!

Unable to contain my excitement, I connected with him directly via the mic.

I exclaimed, "Thanks for the invite. How can I address you? What kind of rune would you like?"

He replied, "I am Max Jackson. I bought a haunted house without telling my wife. How about a ghost-exorcising rune?"

I asked, "Do you have any photos of the house's interior?"

He nodded. "Yes, I sent them to you privately."

I said, "Give me a moment to take a look."

I opened the private message, ready to inspect the photos, when the screen suddenly seized up!

No matter how many times I refreshed my phone, it remained unresponsive!

I cursed inwardly, "Damn!

At the critical moment, the phone, overwhelmed with its memory at capacity, gave up and crashed!"

I swiftly rebooted the phone.

When I managed to get back online, the screen was a flurry of comments.

Netizen 1: [What? Giving up already?]

Netizen 2: [Rebellionist is such a tease!]

Netizen 3: [Don't jump to conclusions; this rune's legit! It's an invisibility one. Just watch!]

"My phone just crashed on me," I calmly explained.

Ignoring the skepticism, I reconnected with Max.

I asked, "Has your wife recently miscarried?"

He was stunned, answering, "How did you know? She's two months pregnant, but she fell in the shower last month. We lost the baby."

The moment those words left his lips, a deluge of comments poured in.

Netizen 1: [Huh? What's happening? This feels oddly familiar.]

Netizen 2: [That was too obvious. Consider me for your next act?]

Netizen 3: [The performance was a bit over the top, like a certain young actress who always overacts.]

Ignoring those comments, I pressed on, "There's something in that house. If you don't deal with it, your wife won't be able to conceive."

Max fell silent and anxiously blurted out, "How much will it cost?"

I was about to say "no charge" when a shrill laugh echoed through the room.

Max burst into laughter. "You've been had!

"I lied! Why would I buy a haunted house with a family? I just wanted to see you squirm."

His laughter ensued, accompanied by a flurry of comments.

Netizen 1: [Holy moly! He's lying.]

Netizen 2: [Impressive! Rebellionist, you're the online fraud buster!]

Netizen 3: [This twist is epic. Love it!]

The live broadcast was suddenly swamped with a cacophony of comments.

I furrowed my brow, coldly asking, "Has your mother been in poor health during the past six months since she moved in? She's skinny and has nightmares every night?"

Max retorted hastily, "Still at it? My mom's old, so it's just her usual ailments!"

I shook my head and remained resolute as I reminded him.

"If you doubt me, go check. You'll see."

Skeptical, Max left.

Minutes later, blood-curdling screams pierced the live stream.

"Shit! Help!"

When Max reappeared in the live broadcast room, the skepticism he once wielded to tease me had vanished.

He appeared as though he had seen a specter, murmuring, "My mom wasn't asleep in the middle of the night. She was kneeling on the floor, barefoot. She closed her eyes but kept bowing to the headboard! She didn't respond no matter how I called her."