Chapter 22: Side Character x Mafia Boss (22)

The rest of the day...

Lyra flat-out refused to step so much as a single foot outside her room.

She had even locked the door from the inside, dragging a chair under the handle just in case someone possessed a master key.

Arms tightly crossed over her chest, she sat in the center of the giant bed with a fiercely determined look on her face.

"I am not facing him ever again," she declared to the empty room. "I will live out the remainder of my short life inside this four-walled luxury sanctuary."

Inside her mind, the System let out a long sigh.

[ Host, you still need to actively raise the Male Lead’s obsession levels to unlock the final storyline branch. ]

"I almost died from embarrassment on his chair!" Lyra hissed back, pulling her knees up to her chin. "I refuse! My social dignity is currently buried six feet underground!"

The System helplessly decided to change the topic before her stress levels spiked further.

[ Host, please check your current progress status. ]

A translucent blue interface screen materialized in front of her eyes.

Ding!

[ Narrative Progress Overview ]

Alastair Voss - Obsession: 72%

Romance Progress: 45%

Main Plot Completion: 68%

Lyra blinked once. Then twice.

"...Wait a minute." She frowned at the floating numbers. "It rose again? It was at 65% during the hallway incident!"

She squinted suspiciously at the interface. "But... why didn’t the System give me a pop-up notification when it jumped to 72%?"

The System quickly ran a self-diagnostic check, searching through its recent log data.

After a few seconds of awkward processing sounds...

[ ...I don’t know either. ]

[ It seems the obsession increased while you were unconscious earlier or perhaps while my core server was processing background rendering errors. ]

[ Anyway, congratulations, Host! ]

[ You are getting significantly closer to successfully completing this world’s main mission! ]

Lyra rolled her dark eyes dramatically. "Closer to getting my throat cut off by a mafia boss you mean."

The System awkwardly coughed, its icon flashing light purple.

[ Ahem... as I’ve reassured you multiple times before, upon narrative execution, you won’t feel any actual physical pain. ]

"...That genuinely doesn’t make me feel any better," Lyra muttered, flopping backward onto the pile of silk pillows like a starfish.

Just then-

Knock. Knock.

The sudden sound at the wooden door made Lyra freeze. She slowly slid off the bed, creeping toward the entrance.

"...Who is it?" she asked cautiously through the wood.

"It’s us, Miss."

Recognizing the gentle voices of the house staff, Lyra carefully unlocked the door and pulled it open a crack.

Two head maids stood outside in the brightly lit hallway. One carried a neatly folded stack of soft, elegant pastel garments. The other pushed a polished silver trolley filled to the brim with hot, mouth-watering dishes- gourmet pasta, freshly baked bread, and iced berry tea.

The first maid bowed politely.

"Boss has instructed us to deliver these new clothes to your quarters."

She held out the folded garments.

"And he specifically asked that you return the maid uniform immediately."

Lyra blinked, looking down at the black-and-white outfit she was currently wearing.

"...Wait," she said, her dark eyes suddenly sparkling with hope. "So I don’t have to work as his personal maid anymore? Am I fired?!"

The maid smiled politely, tilting her head. "Oh, no. You’ll still be serving Boss directly."

"..."

"..."

Lyra’s hopeful, overjoyed expression instantly vanished into a deadpan glare.

The maid smoothly continued, oblivious to Lyra’s internal breakdown. "Boss simply said there is no need for you to wear a servant’s uniform around the estate."

She gestured down at the stiff black apron dress Lyra had struggled with all morning.

"...Please change into these outfits instead."

Lyra let out a long defeated sigh. "...Fine."

The second maid stepped into the room and placed the lavish meal neatly onto the dining table near the balcony.

"We hope the dinner suits your taste, Miss. Please let us know if you require anything else."

After another respectful bow, the two maids stepped out into the hallway and quietly pulled the door shut behind them.

As soon as the wood clicked locked-

The two maids leaned in close, exchanging frantic, excited whispers down the corridor:

"Did you see her face? She’s so pretty..."

"No wonder Boss keeps her locked right next to his private suite!"

"And she’s so polite and cute too, not arrogant like the other guests or prisoners!"

"I honestly think she’s going to become our new Madam one day!"

"Shh! Quiet!" The older maid gasped, slapping her hand over her colleague’s mouth. "Don’t let the Boss or the lieutenants hear you gossiping!"

The two hurriedly scurried away down the marble hall before anyone caught them.

Inside the room...

Lyra approached the bed and looked down at the newly delivered clothing line.

She reached out and ran her fingers over the fabric. The shirts and tailored trousers were made from soft, high-grade silk and cashmere. The hand-stitched seams were flawless but looking extraordinarily refined.

Even someone who knew nothing about high fashion could tell these garments were outrageously expensive.

She tilted her head, stroking her chin thoughtfully.

"...Why on earth would a ruthless mafia kidnapper buy clothes this luxurious for a random hostage he caught in a diner?"

The System paused to calculate the psychological profile of the Male Lead.

[ Perhaps... ]

[ He is simply absurdly rich. ]

[ And given his background, he likely knows very little about standard women’s casual wear, so he simply commanded his procurement team to order the absolute highest quality available. ]

Lyra nodded along, finding the logic entirely sound.

"...That actually makes total sense," she murmured, picking up a soft cream sweater. "Rich mob bosses solve literally everything by throwing absurd amounts of money at the problem."

She happily hugged the soft sweater to her chest, her dark mood instantly evaporating.

"Well..."

She giggled to herself. "If I’m eventually going to be executed by the narrative..."

"...I might as well live comfortably first!"

The System was dead silent for a long moment before replying in a flat, monotone voice:

[ Host... ]

[ You are adapting to your hostage situation a little too quickly. ]

Lyra shrugged her shoulders with zero regret as she reached for a warm piece of garlic bread from the food trolley.

"What else can I do?" she mumbled around a mouthful of food. "I can’t break out of a fortress guarded by sixty snipers. So I might as well enjoy the free gourmet food and five-star fancy clothes while I still can!"

The rich aroma of roasted garlic, melted butter, and seasoned steak filled the air, making her stomach rumble loudly. She picked up a silver fork, her eyes gleaming with anticipation, and was just about to dive into the gourmet meal when a warning chime rang out inside her mind.

[ Host... ]

Lyra paused, her fork hovering an inch above the meat. "Hm? What’s wrong?"

[ Something feels strange... I can’t explain it, but my diagnostic sensors are picking up an unusual anomaly. Can you please not eat it? ]

Lyra lowered her fork slightly, raising an eyebrow at the floating blue icon. "Why? Will you send me alternative food from the system store?"

[ Of course I can’t do that, ] the System replied in a flat voice. [ Food items are locked behind high-tier world completion rewards. ]

"Then of course I am going to eat this!" Lyra declared without a single shred of hesitation. "I am literally dying of hunger right now! I haven’t eaten a full meal since I got dragged into this web novel!" (she did but she just forgot)

The System stayed silent for a long moment. It immediately initiated a deep diagnostic scan on the dinner trolley, searching its digital database for traces of deadly poisons, paralytics, or sedative compounds. The background scan finished three seconds later, displaying a clean green status bar. Everything showed up completely normal.

Perhaps I am simply overthinking due to the system bugs occurring lately, the System reasoned internally. Ever since the Male Lead’s obsession level began fluctuating erratically, the narrative code had been acting strangely. Deciding it was just a false alarm, the System released its hold.

[ ...Fine. You may consume it. ]

"Thank you!" Lyra happily dug into her meal, savoring every single bite of the high-end cuisine like a person saved from starvation.

Once she had thoroughly emptied every plate on the trolley, Lyra changed into one of the newly delivered outfits- a soft, cream-colored silk nightgown that fell loosely around her knees, incredibly light and comfortable. Feeling completely satisfied, she hopped onto the plush king-sized bed.

"Hey, System... how is the Female Lead doing?" Lyra asked, hugging a soft pillow to her chest. "Has the Male Lead visited her room yet?"

The System pulled up the character movement logs. [ Not yet, Host. ]

Lyra smiled, her dark eyes gleaming with plot-loving excitement. "According to the original web novel script, he should be visiting her guest room tonight to intimidate her. That intense confrontation is supposed to make his obsession grow even further!"

She kicked her feet against the mattress, humming softly. "I wanna go spy on them! I want front-row seats to the dark romance drama!"

She made a move to sit up, but a wave of unnatural heaviness suddenly crashed over her body. Her eyelids felt as heavy , and her mind began to spin into a hazy fog.

"...Why am I feeling so extremely sleepy all of a sudden?" she hummed, her voice slurring slightly as a massive yawn escaped her lips. She rubbed her eyes weakly. Maybe it’s just because of such a chaotic, stressful day... she thought to herself, rationalizing the overwhelming exhaustion pulling at her consciousness. "It has to be the reason..."

"System...?" she murmured weakly, her voice barely a whisper.

No reply came from her mind.

Within seconds, Lyra sank completely into the deep mattress, her breathing evening out into a soundless sleep. Deep within her subconscious, the System’s blue interface dimmed, frozen in a silent, locked state- unaware of the mild sedative seamlessly woven into the rich cream sauce of her dinner.