Rising from the Ashes The Heiress They Tried to Erase Novel

Chapter 482: He shook his head violently, as if trying to dislodge the thought. Impossible! That simply couldn't be. He vividly remembered how badly he had been defeated by Marisa at home. The timer crept into the fifteenth minute. Sweat shimmered on both players' foreheads, the tension now as thick as fog before dawn. Ethan's breaths quickened; his palms burned from the relentless tempo of the game. With the match teetering toward its final countdown, the system would soon transition into the damage weight scoring phase.

If no victor emerged by the last tick of the clock, the game would crown the player with the highest total damage dealt. And right now, Ethan was slightly behind. If this pace held, the loss was his to claim. Ethan's fingers tightened around his mouse. Then, like a candle catching a sudden gust of inspiration, he remembered Maia's words: "Ethan, playing a game is like solving a puzzle. When the front door won't budge, look for the side entrance." His gaze sharpened instantly, like a hunter spotting a break in the trees. In the blink of an eye, Ethan changed tactics.

He abandoned frontal assaults and began weaving along the edge of the map - what looked like stalling was a calculated dance along the fringe. Marisa blinked, caught off guard. "What's he doing?" Running away? No! "He's luring me!" The realization struck her like lightning. Her eyes widened - but the trap had already sprung. Ethan pounced on an overlooked vantage point, a subtle high ground hidden in plain sight, and slipped into her blind spot. One precise shot- clean, sharp, and lethal.

Feel inspired by gα ℓη σ ν s, com "Final Kill!" The entire venue held its breath for a heartbeat, and then - it exploded. "Ethan takes the victory!" The host's voice shattered through the noise, raw with disbelief and joy. Maxwell stood rooted to the spot, as if fate itself had struck him down with a bolt from the blue. His brain emptied of thought. The banner in his hand slipped to the ground, forgotten. His expression twitched in disbelief. Ethan... actually won? Was this real? His sister - his invincible sister Marisa - had been defeated? And Ethan's strategy?

It defied logic and expectation. How could someone who had hardly known any video game before hone skills like that in such a short time? Was this what people called a gaming prodigy? He had thought Maia was already one in a million - but her brother had just rewritten the odds. What kind of family was this? Maxwell stood there, dazed, as if the earth had shifted beneath his feet. It was becoming clear: the woman Chris had taken an interest in was far from ordinary. And apparently, neither was her family. Meanwhile, backstage, Melanie sat rigid in her chair, her complexion drained of color.

She stared at the final score, unable to digest the result. This outcome was harder to swallow than her own defeat at Marisa's hands. The champion was none other than Ethan - the very person she had dismissed as irrelevant. Marisa's words echoed in her mind: "When you face real competition, without your fancy last name, everyone will see what a joke you are." She couldn't beat Marisa, and now... not even Ethan. At that moment, Melanie's carefully built pride cracked. Her confidence - the armor she'd always worn - fell apart, piece by piece.

Back on the stage, Marisa slowly removed her headphones, her gaze frozen on the damning words - "Defeat" - flashing across the screen. Her mind refused to catch up with reality. After what felt like an eternity, she looked up at Ethan, drew in a long breath, and exhaled slowly. . . .