Chapter 3: Fame, Fans, and Forbidden Deals

I’d lived alone for too long, and people kind of freaked me out. Having him was enough—a well-behaved little octopus was better than anything.

I thought my life would go on like this: raising the octopus, livestreaming every day. But then that man showed up. The first time I saw him, I just knew something was off.

He was a young guy in a suit, super tall, with silver-framed glasses. He seemed to pick up on my nerves and gave me this polite little smile.

“Hello, my name is Sebastian Young. I own an aquarium. Half a year ago, our aquarium acquired a rare white octopus, but it was accidentally lost...”

After holding his gaze for three seconds, I slammed the door in his face. Had to be a hallucination. Who knocks on someone’s door and says they lost an octopus? Until the guy outside yelled again:

“Ms. Mariah Lane, maybe we can keep talking—about the $300,000 debt your parents left you. Your creditors may already know where you are...”

“What are you talking about? How do you even know me?” I couldn’t keep my voice steady—no one was supposed to know.

“Don’t misunderstand. You were already noticed on the show before. I’m just here to help. I can settle your debt, as long as you give me the octopus.”

...

“If you hand it over, your life can go back to normal. You can get a real job, no more hiding or running for your life...”

He left, but my heart was still pounding out of my chest. The peaceful life I’d scraped together was about to be ripped apart. After a long time, I opened the door. There was a business card on the ground—just a phone number and the simple name, Sebastian Young.

I wanted to move, but before I could, the debt collectors showed up. I didn’t have nearly enough money to pay, so they trashed everything in the house. I shrank in a corner. After three years, they’d finally found me. They didn’t say much—just threatened me and left. I looked at the wrecked living room, still hearing the octopus slapping the glass in his room, but I didn’t go to him. I just walked back to my bedroom, step by step.

I lay on the messy bed until that Sebastian guy came again. He rang the bell. I opened the door—he was still in that suit, still smiling.

“Have you thought it over?”

“Can I say no?”

He smiled without answering. After a while, he put a photo in front of me and said, “This is your little brother at the foster home. Thanks to your remittances, he’s doing well, and I believe he’ll be fine in the future. But there’s a condition: give me the octopus. It was never yours.”

His threats sounded casual, but when I saw the photo, my stomach dropped. After a long time, I nodded.

I went back to my room, leaned against the door, and could hear the sounds outside—someone taking the octopus. He struggled, slapping the glass, and my heart just broke. I squatted at the door, staring blankly at everything.

Until the whole world went dark.

It was so quiet, as if I was the only one left.

I looked outside. That person had thoughtfully had someone clean up my house, bought replacements for most things. Nothing much was lost—except the octopus I’d raised for more than half a year.

He kept his word. The debt collectors never came back. My credit was restored. But without Casper, I didn’t want to livestream anymore. I saved all the videos, deleted my account, and found a new job.

The new job was fine—not hard, but no real future. With a monthly salary of $2,000, I just went through the motions every day. Regular hours, clocking in and out, and two grand was enough for food and rent. I moved out of the beach house. The place was old and falling apart anyway.

That house was left to me by my grandfather. He always thought my dad favored sons over daughters, so before he died, he secretly transferred the house to me. Whether my dad really favored sons, I don’t know—because as soon as my grandpa died, he went straight to the casino. He gambled for two months, racking up $300,000 in debt. When the news came, my stepmother ran off with the money overnight. And my dad crashed his car on the way back.

The hospital called me. After confirming he was really dead, I scrambled to get out of town. But before I left, looking at my little brother who’d just learned to walk, I sighed, scooped him up, and finally left him at a foster home far away, sending things over from time to time.

The debt collectors never found me, and I lived quietly in the seaside house, avoiding people. But I had no money, didn’t dare use my own ID to find work, and was almost starving when I bought a fake account to start livestreaming. For a long time, no one found me, so I let myself relax.

Until that day.

But after that day, Casper was taken away, and my life returned to calm. It was as if things went back to before the debt—no more worrying about people coming after me. Just... just felt... a bit empty inside.

Ah, whatever, time for work.

Early in the morning, the department manager asked me to deliver documents to the boss in the main building next door. We were basically the logistics department, crammed in a tiny two-story building. The big building next door was the main office—fancy as heck. I carefully made my way through the crowd, finally reaching an office on the top floor. Seeing the name on the door—CEO Sebastian Young—I froze for a second.

No one was in the office. The assistant said the boss was in a meeting. After explaining, the assistant thought for a moment and said, “On the 16th floor, Simon Young, the young boss, can also sign. You can try there.”

“Thanks!”

I took the documents downstairs. When I got to the sixteenth floor and walked in, I saw a guy who looked like he’d stepped out of a K-pop video—short, striking white hair, white suit, tall and long-legged, with this slightly cold expression, just lounging on the sofa, scrolling on his phone, looking bored out of his mind.

“Hey!”

I was about to speak when the guy looked up at me and totally froze. Then he snorted, put down his phone, and glared at me like I’d just ruined his favorite TV show.

This... was seriously confusing...

“Mr. Young, I’m Mariah Lane from logistics. This is the quarterly report, could you... sign it?”

“Hmph! Ha! Not signing.”

Looking at him, I thought, Guess being good-looking means you get to be a jerk. I touched my nose, figured he was just moody, and thought maybe I should go back to the top floor and wait for the big boss. As I carefully left, I heard an annoyed voice: “You’re just gonna leave?”

...