Chapter 11: The Final Humiliation
Ethan came back the next morning as promised.
He showed up at my door with luggage, dark circles under his eyes, and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug the moment I opened it.
"I'm not staying across town anymore," he said into my hair. "I'll find something in this building."
"Or," I said carefully, "you could just... stay here."
He pulled back to look at me. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
He kissed me—hard, deep, claiming.
Then he carried his suitcase in and that was that.
Living with Ethan was easy. Natural. Like puzzle pieces that had always belonged together but were kept in separate boxes.
He cooked. I burned things. He fixed it without complaining.
He worked from home most days, so when I left for classes, he'd kiss me at the door like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.
Two weeks passed without a single system deposit.
I'd almost forgotten about the 14-day penalty—until the system reminded me.
"Warning, Host. No qualifying humiliation event detected in 13 days. If no event occurs within 24 hours, your most recent upgrade will be reversed."
I groaned.
My most recent upgrade was a 3% boost. Not the end of the world—but I'd gotten used to my 9.4 face.
Ethan noticed my expression. "What's wrong?"
I explained.
He thought for a moment. "So you need Derek or someone from his circle to humiliate you within 24 hours?"
"Basically."
"What if..." He hesitated. "What if I arranged something?"
"Like what?"
"Derek's been posting on social media again. Subtweeting about you. If you responded publicly and he took the bait..."
I shook my head. "I don't want to engage with him directly anymore. It feels... beneath me now."
Ethan nodded slowly. "Then let it go. If you lose 3%, you lose 3%. You're still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
I smiled. "You have to say that."
"I've been saying it since before any system existed."
But fate had other plans.
That same afternoon, I ran into Derek and Amber at a coffee shop.
Pure coincidence—I swore.
Amber saw me first. She looked terrible. Dark circles, brittle hair, a permanent scowl.
Living with Derek was clearly not the fairy tale she'd imagined.
She marched up to me. "Enjoying yourself?"
I kept stirring my latte. "Having a great day, actually."
"Must be nice," she spat, loud enough for the whole shop to hear, "being a homewrecker who trades up to a richer man the second things get hard."
The entire café went quiet.
"$40,000 deposited. Public humiliation in crowded venue. Maximum multiplier applied. Attractiveness +4%. Current rating: 9.8."
I felt the change sweep through me like warm honey.
Amber's jaw dropped. Even she could see it happening in real time.
"What the FUCK," she breathed.
Derek appeared behind her, coffee in hand. He looked at me—and the cup slipped from his fingers.
It shattered on the floor. Coffee splashed everywhere.
He just stood there. Mouth open. Eyes filled with something far beyond regret.
It was grief. The grief of a man realizing exactly what he'd destroyed.
"Sophia," he whispered.
I stood up, dropped cash on the table, and walked toward the door.
As I passed him, I said the last words I'd ever speak to Derek Marshall.
"Thank you. For everything."
His face crumpled.
I walked out into the sunlight and didn't look back.
He showed up at my door with luggage, dark circles under his eyes, and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug the moment I opened it.
"I'm not staying across town anymore," he said into my hair. "I'll find something in this building."
"Or," I said carefully, "you could just... stay here."
He pulled back to look at me. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
He kissed me—hard, deep, claiming.
Then he carried his suitcase in and that was that.
Living with Ethan was easy. Natural. Like puzzle pieces that had always belonged together but were kept in separate boxes.
He cooked. I burned things. He fixed it without complaining.
He worked from home most days, so when I left for classes, he'd kiss me at the door like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.
Two weeks passed without a single system deposit.
I'd almost forgotten about the 14-day penalty—until the system reminded me.
"Warning, Host. No qualifying humiliation event detected in 13 days. If no event occurs within 24 hours, your most recent upgrade will be reversed."
I groaned.
My most recent upgrade was a 3% boost. Not the end of the world—but I'd gotten used to my 9.4 face.
Ethan noticed my expression. "What's wrong?"
I explained.
He thought for a moment. "So you need Derek or someone from his circle to humiliate you within 24 hours?"
"Basically."
"What if..." He hesitated. "What if I arranged something?"
"Like what?"
"Derek's been posting on social media again. Subtweeting about you. If you responded publicly and he took the bait..."
I shook my head. "I don't want to engage with him directly anymore. It feels... beneath me now."
Ethan nodded slowly. "Then let it go. If you lose 3%, you lose 3%. You're still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
I smiled. "You have to say that."
"I've been saying it since before any system existed."
But fate had other plans.
That same afternoon, I ran into Derek and Amber at a coffee shop.
Pure coincidence—I swore.
Amber saw me first. She looked terrible. Dark circles, brittle hair, a permanent scowl.
Living with Derek was clearly not the fairy tale she'd imagined.
She marched up to me. "Enjoying yourself?"
I kept stirring my latte. "Having a great day, actually."
"Must be nice," she spat, loud enough for the whole shop to hear, "being a homewrecker who trades up to a richer man the second things get hard."
The entire café went quiet.
"$40,000 deposited. Public humiliation in crowded venue. Maximum multiplier applied. Attractiveness +4%. Current rating: 9.8."
I felt the change sweep through me like warm honey.
Amber's jaw dropped. Even she could see it happening in real time.
"What the FUCK," she breathed.
Derek appeared behind her, coffee in hand. He looked at me—and the cup slipped from his fingers.
It shattered on the floor. Coffee splashed everywhere.
He just stood there. Mouth open. Eyes filled with something far beyond regret.
It was grief. The grief of a man realizing exactly what he'd destroyed.
"Sophia," he whispered.
I stood up, dropped cash on the table, and walked toward the door.
As I passed him, I said the last words I'd ever speak to Derek Marshall.
"Thank you. For everything."
His face crumpled.
I walked out into the sunlight and didn't look back.