Isabella Sterling and Host NovelThe Misread Deadline

After playing the part of the cowardly, universally despised male lead, I had finally completed my mission.
Before faking my death, the System gave me one day to say goodbye to my targets.
After three years of biting my tongue, I let loose, going scorched-earth on each and every one of them.
Ive been sick of you for ages, you damn poser!
Three years of tutoring and your brain is still underdeveloped? Are you an idiot?
Who in their right mind would want to be engaged to an old woman like you? You've already got one foot in the grave!
Just as I sent the last message, basking in the glow of sweet satisfaction, the System shrieked in my head.
We're screwed, Host! I misread the date
Your actual exit date is in SEVEN DAYS! Aaaah!
Me: "?"
The next second, the doorbell rang, sharp and frantic.

1
This was my third year playing the part of the universally despised male lead.
And I had finally completed my mission.
For three long years, Id been the timid, spineless protagonist everyone loved to hate. A ghost at school, my adoptive sisters beck-and-call boy at home. I had no friends, and my familys affection was a currency I could never afford.
My only stroke of luck was an arranged engagement, a marriage alliance set up by the family. But on the day of the engagement party, the truth detonated: I was the wrong son, switched at birth. A fake heir.
The real Sterling heir had been found.
In an instant, the worlds scorn, which had been a steady drizzle, became a hurricane directed straight at me. I was, once again, public enemy number one.
Perhaps that was the final straw. The System, silent for three years, finally flickered back to life.
Congratulations, Host. The Universally Despised mission is complete. A substantial reward awaits you.
Tomorrow, you will return to your original world.
I blinked, processing. "What about the 'me' in this world?" I asked.
The System chuckled reassuringly. Don't you worry about that. Hell just disappear.
It sounded too easy.
"Are you sure this is it? The final curtain? No more missions?"
The System puffed out its digital chest. Absolutely! You can cash your check and check out tomorrow!
A wave of relief washed over me. The System granted me one final day to say my goodbyes. But as I thought about it, who was there to say goodbye to? My death would probably cause less of a ripple than a stone tossed in the ocean.
Bored, I picked up my phone, scrolling through my contacts. Just then, it buzzed. A message from "The Poser," my nickname for her.
I'll have the tailor send your suit for the gala tomorrow.
For God's sake, don't wear one of your own hideous ones. You're an embarrassment.
That was my sister, Isabella Sterling. Or rather, my adoptive sister now. The true-born daughter of the family. From the moment I entered this world, shed looked at me with nothing but disdain. She was a creature of sour moods and venomous words, constantly belittling me. My taste was trash, my intelligence laughable. A kind word from her was rarer than a unicorn. My very presence seemed to offend her senses.
But she was the Sterling heiress, Dads only daughter. No one dared cross her. Even Mom told me to just grit my teeth and bear it.
I had borne it. For three years. Id been her doormat, her errand boy.
But I was leaving tomorrow.
And today, I was done bearing it.
Me: You think your taste in clothes is any better?
Me: Attachment: Image
Me: Is this supposed to be a suit or a pile of shit?
Me: That wasn't a typo.
Me: You act like youre some fashion guru, but honestly, even with your rotten personality and non-existent friends, exactly zero people give a damn about you.
A long pause followed. Then, a single question mark appeared from Isabella. The shock must have short-circuited her brain. The "typing..." indicator blinked on and off for what felt like an eternity.
Finally, she wrote: What's wrong with you?
My fingers flew across the screen.
Nothing's wrong with me.
I'm just sick of your bullshit.
You damn poser.
Silence. She was probably seeing red, a fury so pure it could power a small city. What did I care? I put her on mute.
A soft knock on my door. A maid peeked in. "Mr. Sterling, the car is waiting. It's time for your school event."
Even as the fake heir, my parents felt some lingering obligation, enough to see me through high school.
The ride to school was heavy with unspoken tension. The driver, sensing the storm brewing at home, was silent, afraid to say the wrong thing.
The car hadn't even come to a full stop when I opened the door and a furious voice lashed out.
"Bruce, do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you?"

2
I looked up. A girl stood before me, chest heaving with rage, her eyes shooting daggers. I gave her a slow, deliberate once-over.
"And why, exactly, were you waiting for me?"
Janet Thorntons jaw dropped. "?"
"I was taking pity on you!" she sputtered, her voice incredulous. "No one wants to be your partner for the coming-of-age gala tonight. I was doing you a favor by being your date, and this is the attitude I get?"
The Thorntons and the Sterlings were old family friends. Janet and I were, for all intents and purposes, childhood friends. With her sharp, vibrant beauty, she was one of the most popular girls at school. Our parents had once even floated the idea of an engagement between us.
An idea Janet had publicly and viciously shot down. I still remembered the look of pure disgust on her face, as if shed been forced to swallow a fly.
"Engaged to him?" she had sneered. "Are you insane? Are you trying to make me puke?"
Her very public rejection had made me the laughingstock of our social circle for a solid year. But her reaction had served its purpose, earning me a cool 100 experience points and completing a third of my mission.
Thinking back, I didn't really want to give her a hard time. But then, a couple of her cronies passing by decided to chime in.
"Yeah, Bruce. Making Miss Thornton wait for you? Who do you think you are?"