She dropped everything on the desk with a loud thud.

“Some people just can’t stand seeing others succeed. They think that by not lending me money, they can block my path to chasing my dream. Pathetic.”

Her snide words were aimed straight at me.

I knew she must have found another “sucker.”

Sure enough, that evening, I saw a post on the college forum.

“Feeling for my treasure girl, working so hard for her dream but being suppressed by her roommate.”

The post came from an anonymous account, but every word pointed at me and Linda.

It even included a photo of Linda wiping away tears at our dorm door.

The comments poured in, full of insults directed at me.

“What kind of roommate is that? So toxic.”

“Exactly. Can’t stand to see someone else succeed, huh? Classic jealousy.”

“Expose her, let everyone see what kind of person she is.”

The post quickly gained traction, and soon Ethan appeared in the comments.

He replied under his real name:

“I believe Linda is a kind girl. Please don’t assume the worst about someone chasing their dreams. I’ve already helped her with the equipment. I hope her livestream goes smoothly.”

Everyone praised him endlessly.

Linda showed me his reply on her phone.

“See, Sarah? Ethan is on my side. What do you have to compete with me?”

“Congratulations,” I said. “You’ve found your knight.”

With Ethan’s financial support, Linda’s streaming setup leveled up instantly.

High-def camera, professional lighting, microphone—all complete.

She even spent extra to promote her livestream announcement on the platform’s homepage.

Our dorm table was completely transformed into a streaming studio.

“Sarah, move your lamp—it’s blocking my shot.”

“Kelly, eat quieter—you’re ruining my vibe.”

Kelly could only retreat to the balcony with her snacks, too afraid to argue.

I didn’t mind. I quietly packed up my things and gave her more space.

The more invested she became, the harder the fall would be when it all came crashing down.

The day before the livestream, Linda suddenly realized a fatal problem.

“Oh no, my leeches.”

She clutched the glass jar.

“Melissa used medical leeches that cost over a thousand a jar. But I already spent Ethan’s money on equipment.”

The jar in her hands was the one she had first bought from some sketchy online seller for fifty bucks.

The water inside was murky and foul, and the leeches lay limp at the bottom, barely alive.

“How can I livestream with these? If I use them, people will laugh me off the Internet.”

Linda panicked, pacing in circles.

And once again, the first person she thought of was me.

She grabbed my arm.

“Sarah, my dear Sarah, help me just one more time, please? Just this once.”

“I know you’ve got some savings. Lend me a thousand. As soon as I get donations, I’ll pay you back—double.”

I pulled my arm free, looking troubled.

“Linda, I really don’t have the money. Why don’t you ask Ethan again?”

“I can’t bring myself to ask him again.”

When I refused, Linda turned to her fan group on Discord to play the victim.

“Guys, disaster struck. The leeches I prepared for my livestream are ruined. I need money urgently to buy new ones. Otherwise, tomorrow’s stream will be canceled. Is my dream really going to end here?”

She even added a teary-eyed selfie.

Her fan group on Discord instantly blew up.

“Linda, don’t cry—we’ll chip in for you.”

“Exactly, it’s not a big deal. Don’t give up on your dream.”

“Was it that evil roommate messing with you again?”

Linda immediately replied:

“No, it’s not her fault. It was just my own carelessness. I just feel like I’ve let you all down.”

Anyone with sense could see she was trying to throw dirt on me.

Very soon, people in the group started sending her donations.

Fifty from one, a hundred from another, and scattered amounts adding up to a few hundred dollars.

But it was still far from the one-thousand-dollar target.

Just then, Ethan Johnson’s profile picture lit up in the group.

He sent a personal $1,000 donation and tagged Linda.

“Linda, don’t worry. I’ll cover the money. Just focus on your stream and don’t let anything distract you.”

“Wow, it’s Ethan!”

“He’s so handsome—what a true protector.”

“Linda is so lucky. They’re not even dating yet, and it’s already this sweet.”

Linda nearly fainted from excitement, sending several “thank you” emojis in a row.

Then she strutted over to me, shoving her phone screen into my face.

“Sarah, see? Even if you won’t help me, plenty of others will. Ethan’s heart belongs to me—you’ve lost.”

“Is that so? Then let me be the first to wish you good luck with your stream.”

My calm response left her choking on her words.

“Hmph, you’ll see.”

She snatched her phone back and went off to contact the seller of medical leeches.

What she didn’t know was that I had already reported that so-called “high-end cosmetic clinic” seller—for unlicensed operations and illegally selling live specimens.

Their online shop had been shut down, and their phone number was permanently disconnected.

Linda dialed over and over, but all she heard was, “The number you have dialed is no longer in service.”

With less than twelve hours before her stream, her only hope was the cheap jar of leeches she had bought online for fifty bucks.

Lying on my bed with headphones on, I watched out of the corner of my eye as she slumped in her chair.

I knew she had no choice left.

She would use that cheap jar.

And I had finally gotten the result I wanted.

Late that night, once Linda and Kelly were asleep, I quietly climbed out of bed.

On her desk, the glass jar sat in plain sight.

I pulled a small vial from my pocket, unscrewed the cap, and poured the colorless, odorless liquid into the jar.

It was a powerful stimulant used in aquaculture—something I had bought online.

It could make aquatic creatures hyper-aggressive in a short amount of time.

When I was done, I disposed of the vial and quietly slipped back into bed.

Linda, I hope tomorrow you enjoy the gift I’ve prepared for you.

On the day of the stream, Linda woke up early to put on her makeup.

She slipped into a brand-new white dress, trying to create the aura of a fairy untouched by the mundane world.

Ethan arrived with Starbucks drinks and pastries to cheer her on.

“Linda, don’t be nervous. I believe you can do it.”

She blushed as she accepted the drink.

“Thank you, Ethan. I’ll do my best.”

The two of them acted out their little romantic drama at the dorm door, completely ignoring me and Kelly.

Kelly shot me a secret look and I returned a knowing smile.

At 8 p.m. sharp, the livestream began.

Linda greeted the camera with the sweet smile she had practiced countless times.

“Hi, everyone! It’s Linda here. Tonight, I’ve got an extra thrilling challenge for you.”

Within five minutes, thousands of people had crowded into her stream.

Most were rubberneckers lured in by Ethan and the forum posts.

And of course, Melissa Scott’s fans showed up too—ready to laugh at Linda’s failure.

“Here we go, heard someone’s about to dig their own grave live?”

“Did she just roll her face in flour before coming on?”

“Don’t hate—our Linda is the queen of pure allure.”

The chat was buzzing with every kind of comment, but the heat was undeniable.

As she watched the rising viewer count, Linda began following the script I had given her—playing the victim.

“Honestly, I’ve sacrificed so much for this stream. Maybe you don’t know, but I’m just an ordinary girl. No connections, no money. All my equipment came from the help of Ethan and friends.”

“Even my best roommate refused to support me—because she’s jealous.”

Her eyes reddened as she spoke.

“Don’t cry, Linda—we’re here for you!”

“That roommate is disgusting. How is someone like that even in college?”

“Ethan, come protect Linda already!”

Sure enough, Ethan’s account dropped a pricey virtual yacht in the stream right away.

The chat exploded, and the hype reached its first climax.

From my bunk, I calmly recorded her speech on my phone.

After enough buildup, Linda finally unveiled her trump card.

She carefully held up the glass jar to the camera.

“Guys, this is the star of today’s show—leeches.”

The moment those writhing black worms in murky water appeared in HD, the chat erupted.

“Holy crap—did she scoop that out of a sewer?”

“Ugh, I can smell it through the screen.”

“Melissa used clean medical leeches. What the hell is this?”

Linda’s expression stiffened, but she forced herself to explain.

“Don’t be afraid, guys. The wild ones are actually more effective—their suction is stronger.”

She used tweezers to pick up a leech.

Thanks to my little “additive,” it writhed violently, its sucker gaping wide.

Her hand trembled, but when she saw the donations rolling in, she clenched her teeth and pressed it onto her leg.

The leech latched on like mad, suctioning tight to her skin.

A sharp sting shot through her.

“Ahhh!”

Linda screamed.

She tried to pull it off, but it clung even harder, immovable.

Worse yet, the rest of the leeches in the jar had caught the scent of blood and were thrashing wildly.

In her panic, Linda knocked the jar over.

A dozen ravenous leeches spilled out, some landing right on her legs and feet.

The livestream camera caught it all:

Her pure white dress, smooth legs, and those wriggling black creatures sucking greedily at her flesh.

“Help me! Somebody help!”