Chapter 3

To give Adrian a stable place to live, I applied for a temporary leave from school and used my savings to rent an apartment.

My father called when he found out, asking if I was in trouble.

I only said a friend was hurt and needed some time.

My mother didn't press. She just told me to come home for dinner every week.

I didn't know then that I was setting aside the protected life of my original world, piece by piece.

The system warned that my mission points would decrease. I still confirmed.

I rented a small apartment near the harbor and let Adrian stay there temporarily.

I contacted a community clinic to treat his wounds, then found legal aid to help him replace his documents and apply for temporary relief.

Adrian trusted no one.

He hid food under the bed, wedged a chair against the door, and gripped a fruit knife on the table whenever he heard footsteps at night.

"You can leave," he told me. "I didn't ask you to save me."

"I know." I set the medicine on the table. "You can throw me out whenever you want. But today, let's clean the wound first."

He was silent. In the end, he rolled up his sleeve.

The system kept reminding me the main target was Ethan.

Ethan was an outstanding law student who would become a prosecutor. In the original storyline, he would expose the harbor's criminal network—and die at Adrian's hands.

If I kept pursuing Adrian, the plot could spiral out of control.

I understood the risk.

I still pressed "change target" on the system panel.

【Warning: This choice will alter the original plot. The intended male lead, Ethan Cole, may lose his predetermined life.】

"I know."

I chose Adrian not because he deserved love, and not because I couldn't see the danger in him.

In that moment, I just couldn't leave an injured person in the snow to die.

Adrian gradually learned to go out on his own.

He memorized every piece of furniture in the apartment, distinguished visitors by their footsteps, and learned to walk to the street corner with an old cane.

One night, I found he had a fever and stayed up with him.

When I woke at dawn, I'd fallen asleep by the bed.

Adrian's hand found my hair. His fingers stopped for a long time, then gently withdrew.

"Why aren't you afraid of me?" he asked quietly.

I didn't wake.

He pulled the blanket over my shoulders. For the first time, he didn't bar the door.

I bought Adrian a second cane and taught him the sounds of the intersections: the bakery doorbell rings twice, the bus brakes screech, seagulls cry near the old warehouses.

He practiced walking from the apartment to the corner every day. After falling a few times, he stopped letting me support him.

I thought this was the beginning of him standing up again. But Adrian quietly recorded every act of help in the ledger between us.

The system told me that after changing targets, my initial points would decrease.

I watched the number hit zero without regret.

What I didn't understand then was that kindness doesn't mean sacrificing everything. I only knew that person needed to survive right now.

I didn't ask the system for extra points, and I didn't let it alter Ethan's choices for me.

I'd already decided someone else's fate once. I didn't want to repeat it.

I emailed my advisor and asked for a month's leave.

The advisor asked if I was having family problems. I only said a friend was in danger and needed temporary help.

The advisor reminded me that school could pause, but I shouldn't pause my own safety along with it.

After reading the email, I wrote that sentence down for the first time.

I still visited Adrian, but I began arranging my own courses, savings, and housing. I no longer let my life revolve entirely around him.

When I rearranged my courses, the advisor allowed me to extend my assignment deadlines.

I wrote the deadlines in my calendar and marked beside them: "At your own pace."

It was the first time in a long while I'd made a plan for myself.

I replied to my advisor confirming I'd submit my paper on time.

I no longer postponed my life with "wait until this is over."

The calendar filled with classes again. My world slowly returned to normal.

I put my textbooks back in my bag and confirmed the new deadline with my advisor.

I missed an introductory psychology class. The advisor left the notes in his office.

I made up the class later and remembered I still had an original path.

When I organized my schedule, I marked my rest days too.