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!”