CHAPTER 23: THE FIFTH LEAD BELONGS TO ME

(Evelina’s POV — Tactical Training Center, Day 2—Private Range)

BANG.

The first bullet of the day hit the outer rim of the target.

Not awful. But not the center. And I didn’t need to look to know Rowan saw it.

His voice was low and controlled. "Again."

Not irritated.

Not impressed.

Just demanding.

I reloaded, lifted the gun, and fired again.

BANG.

Closer, but still imperfect. Rowan didn’t sigh. Didn’t frown. He didn’t even blink.

"Again."

I fired. Again. Again. Again.

Each bullet cut through the air like a stopwatch ticking down to my life expectancy at Theo’s casino. But after the fifteenth shot, Rowan stepped forward and placed his hand over the muzzle of the gun, pushing it down.

"That’s enough."

My breath was shaky from focus, not exhaustion. My arm trembled slightly. I didn’t like that.

He took the gun out of my hand without asking—not dominant, not rude—just confident enough that asking was not required.

"You’re progressing faster than expected," he said.

It wasn’t praise.

It was an evaluation.

"Will it be enough before the party?" I asked.

For the first time since I’d met him, Rowan’s expression actually shifted. Very slightly. His brows pressed in—not in confusion, but in calculation.

"Party?" he repeated.

I froze for half a second.

Right. He doesn’t know. Because this night—the casino inauguration—isn’t just an event... It’s the turning point of his story.

In the original game, when the assassination attempt targeted Sera, it was Rowan who blocked the blade—and from that day onward, he became her personal bodyguard, her shadow, and her sword.

But right now?

He doesn’t know anything.

I swallowed hard. "Never mind. Just... there will be people there who want me dead."

His eyes locked onto mine—sharp, unblinking. "You think you’ll be attacked."

"I don’t think," I said. My voice came out colder than intended. "I know."

We stared at each other—two people carrying secrets, neither willing to step back.

Finally, Rowan spoke. "There is something I want you to know."

The tone was different—not trainer-to-student. Not scolding. Not analyzing.

Something heavier.

I tilted my head, cautious. "What?"

He hesitated just a fraction of a second. Then, "...I also work as a personal bodyguard."

My mind went blank.

"What?"

He didn’t repeat himself. He didn’t fill the silence. He simply stood there, letting the words sink in, letting the implications stab through me.

Personal bodyguard.

That was his role in the original storyline—the one that eventually tethered him to Sera. The role that began the path of deadly loyalty.

Did he... mean that for me? He wants to be my personal Bodyguard?

My gaze darted up, instinctively.

[Rowan Arcturus—2%]

Still two percent.

No jump.

No interest.

So... did I misunderstand? Was he not offering?

My chest tightened—not with disappointment, but with confusion. Before I could speak—

DING.

A blue window exploded into my vision like lightning.

[System Alert: Hidden Treasure Unlocked. A rare route has been discovered. Would you like to designate Rowan Arcturus as your Personal Bodyguard?

This choice will affect ALL future routes.→ Protection | + High Survival→ Risk | Involvement in Rowan’s Dark Arc

[ YES ]   [ NO ]

My breath stopped.

A bodyguard. A male lead. A sword between me and death. This wasn’t just a reward.

This was a lifeline.

My instincts screamed yes before my brain could catch up. Because in this world, strength was the only language anyone understood.

I didn’t hesitate.

TRING!

My finger hit YES.

The system chimed again—bright, cold, and mechanical.

[System: Selection Confirmed]Rowan Arcturus has been assigned as your Personal Bodyguard.Relationship Route "Loyalty Bound by Survival" has been unlocked.Warning: This route is HIGH STAKES.

My heart hammered in my ribs.

Personal bodyguard.

Mine.

Not Sera’s.

Not yet.

Not by destiny.

Mine.

Mine.

That realization alone sent a quiet thrill down my spine—not romantic, not sentimental, but strategic.

A weapon.

A shield.

A man who could change survival itself.

I let the corner of my lips curve slowly and deliberately and met his gaze head-on.

"Then..." I said, voice smooth as silk and twice as dangerous, "would you like to be my personal bodyguard, Mr. Arcturus?"

Rowan didn’t flinch.

Didn’t look away.

Didn’t soften.

His reply came low, steady, and completely unapologetic:

"Only if you pay me well."

One eyebrow lifted on its own—impressed.

Good.

He wasn’t loyal to sympathy. He was loyal to terms. To contracts. To promises sealed with blood and money.

Exactly the kind of man I needed. My smirk deepened, slow and razor-sharp.

"Of course," I murmured. "I never leave my people underpaid."

For the first time—barely noticeable unless you were watching for it—Rowan’s eyes flickered.

Not dramatic.

Not emotional.

But the weight of that single word sank deep.

Because what he just agreed to meant: He will stand between me and bullets. Between me and death. Between me and the story that was meant to kill me.

Rowan Arcturus—the most lethal, loyal protector in the game—now belongs to my side.

My fingers curled slowly around the gun. The world might still try to kill me. But now—for the first time since waking in this nightmare—I wouldn’t be facing it alone.

A storm was coming.

The casino.

The assassination.

And this time...I had a weapon of my own.

And his name was Rowan Arcturus.

***

(Hartgrave Family—Later)

The Hartgrave living room felt colder than usual—marble, velvet, chandeliers, too much gold, not enough warmth.

Everyone was there.

Lucien draped over the couch. Arden standing stiff with crossed arms. Sera standing nervously beside Arden. Mother sitting with controlled elegance. Father reading the room like a battlefield.

"...A personal bodyguard?" Lucien repeated, brows high. "Why do YOU need a bodyguard, Eve?"

Eve.

Since when did he call me that?

...Whatever.

I inhaled slowly. "As you all remember... I almost died during Kael Valtore’s party. Poisoned."

Their faces darkened.

"That means someone wants me dead," I continued. "The first attempt failed. That doesn’t mean the next will."

Lucien’s jaw tightened. Arden looked away. Mother’s fingers trembled around her teacup.

Father’s eyes narrowed in thought.

"So," I said calmly, "to protect myself, I want a personal bodyguard."

Father nodded slowly, calculating. "It’s true... we cannot guarantee it won’t happen again."

Arden scoffed. "You don’t need a bodyguard. The people AROUND YOU need one."

Mother snapped her head toward him like a whip, her glare sharp enough to cut skin.

Arden shut up. Mother turned back to me, voice softer. "You’re right, Eve. We won’t take any risks with your safety. I’ll start preparing to look for a suitable—"

"No," I cut in.

Their eyes flicked to me.

"I’ve already found one."

A beat of stunned silence. Father blinked. "You... did?"

I nodded once. "Yes."

"Rowan," I called, my voice steady, "you may come in."

All heads swiveled toward the entrance.

Footsteps echoed through the hall—slow, heavy, and disciplined. And Rowan stepped in. Blonde hair. Steel-grey eyes. A soldier’s posture. A wolf’s calm.

The room changed temperature. Lucien’s expression twisted immediately, eyes narrowing—suspicion and spite, all tangled.

"Are you sure?" Lucien challenged. "You’re not lying, right?"

My head snapped toward him. "Why would I lie?"

He shrugged. "I mean—who knows? Maybe you brought some playboy here to... ’have fun’ and now you’re selling him as a bodyguard—"

THUD!

The throw was instinctive. A pillow smacked him straight in the face.

"YOU and your rotten brain," I hissed.

He gasped dramatically. "HEY—did I lie? You like to play—"

"LUCEIN."

Mother didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. Lucien froze instantly, looking like a kicked puppy.

"...Alright," he muttered. "I’ll shut up."

Mother sighed, then looked at Rowan again. "Are you confident you can protect her?"

Rowan didn’t blink. "Yes."

His voice was a blade—deep, calm, and final. Father studied him for a full ten seconds. Testing. Measuring. Judging.

Then—he nodded slowly.

"Alright." He stepped forward, eyes sharp as iron. "I am trusting my daughter to you, Rowan."

Rowan met his stare without flinching.

"I will protect her with everything," he answered, each word heavy, absolute. "I will not fail, Sir."

Something in the room shifted.

A weight.

A certainty.

Rowan stood behind me—not too close, not too far—like a silent wall between me and the world. And just like that... I gained one of the strongest pieces in the entire game.

Not through affection.

Not through love.

Not through fate.

Through choice.

My choice.