The Desert Island Survival Was Just A Scheme For My Long-Lost Sister Chapter 01
After graduation, my brother Ethan and my childhood best friend, Derek Sterling, took me on a trip to celebrate. Then our plane went down.
We spent three years fighting to survive on a deserted island, until one afternoon, I spotted a camera lens glinting from the branches of a coconut tree.
I stumbled backward and ended up falling into a hidden pool beneath the villa.
Through the villa’s floor-to-ceiling windows, I watched a special-effects artist carefully paint bruise makeup onto Ethan’s skin.
And there was Jenna Holloway, the girl who’d been on our flight, the one we’d been stranded with, curled up in my parents’ arms on a plush sofa, all three of them staring at a massive screen.
The video showed me looking exhausted and worn down after years of hardship, handing over the only fish I’d caught that month to Jenna.
Three years of shared hardship, and I’d come to think of her as a sister.
My mother reached over and tapped Jenna’s nose playfully. “See? No more worrying about being mistreated when you get home. You and your sister are bonded for life now.”
Ethan leaned forward. “So… can we move to the next phase? The part where we go home?”
Jenna bit her lower lip and nodded.
Derek limped heavily down the stairs, barely concealing his relief. “Good thing I kept my mouth shut from the start. Nat never suspected a thing.”
It hit me all at once: Jenna was my biological sister, the one our nanny had taken as a newborn.
This whole “stranded on a deserted island” nightmare was just an elaborate scheme to win her trust and bring her home.
My body shook with the weight of three years of suffering. I was about to storm inside when a line of text blazed before my eyes:
[Congratulations, Host. You have unlocked the final stage of the Favored-Child Narrative. Would you like to accumulate enough Bias Units to return to the real world?]
—
Ethan heard something. He turned, scanning the darkness.
I forgot the floating text. Acting on instinct, I scrambled back from the pool into the bushes.
Inside, my mother was weeping as Jenna finally agreed to come home. She turned to my father, who was still frozen in place. “Did you hear that? She said yes, she’s coming home.”
My father snapped out of it, pulling both of them into a tight embrace.
Ethan let out a long breath. “You little menace. Took you three whole years to finally let your guard down.”
Derek squeezed Jenna’s hand, grinning. “I played cripple for three years for you. When we get back, you owe me big time, princess.”
Jenna looked up at my parents, guilt flickering across her face. “I feel terrible… did I treat my sister unfairly? What if she finds out…”
My parents cut her off, clutching her hands. “It’s not your fault. That girl your foster parents raised bullied you. She traumatized you. This was the only way we could think to help.”
My mother pressed on, her voice fierce with justification. “She’s your only sister. It’s her duty to make things right.”
Ethan soothed her. “Don’t worry. Nat will never know.”
He grabbed a two-way radio. “Three days. After the final test, we airlift out. Have the team dress like a neighboring country’s rescue unit. No mistakes. We can’t spook her.”
He snapped his fingers.
Servants streamed in from downstairs carrying platters of meat. The family settled around the table, grilling.
It was a feast fit for a top-tier steakhouse.
Within minutes, a mountain of food piled up in front of Jenna.
Jenna pouted with practiced charm. “Ugh, Nat kept shoving all her fish at me. I’m so sick of it. Please, no more fish.”
The rich aroma drifted to my hiding spot. My mouth watered uncontrollably.
My stomach cramped; bile surged in my throat. I bit down on my lip, holding back the tears that kept falling.
Three years. I hadn’t had a single proper meal in three years.
Derek had faked a broken leg.
Ethan and I had done all the foraging.
He’d come back every single time covered in fresh “wounds”, a tangle with a wild boar, a fall into a venomous pit, and always empty-handed.
And Jenna, with her convenient “low blood sugar,” passed out on cue.
I’d felt sorry for her, always giving her my share.
But his limp was fake. His bruises were makeup. Her fainting spells were an act.
I stared at how much I had changed after three years of hardship, and a hollow ache filled my chest.
I wiped my tears. I was going to march in there and the text blazed again.
Now, above every person in that villa, a number appeared, a Bias Unit meter. Every step I took toward the villa made their numbers drop. Every step back made them rise.
Then two choices materialized:
[Enter the villa, expose the truth. Insufficient Bias Units, Virtual family apologizes, Story continues.]
[Turn away and endure until the story reaches its breaking point.]
A flood of memories I didn’t know I had surged back.
In the real world, I’d been an orphan.
At thirteen, I’d found a lottery ticket worth a fortune. A voice had asked me, “Found the system entrance. Would you like to redeem this ticket for a wish?”
I’d nodded, and with that ticket, I’d bought myself a family.
I stared at that “happy” family through the window and laughed bitterly. A family like that? I’d rather have none.
My voice came out ragged. “If I walk in there now, they’ll feel guilty, but they’ll just give me some empty apology, won’t they?”
A flat mechanical voice confirmed. “Yes, Host. That is the key component for continuing this favored-child narrative.”
“And if I choose the second option… I just go back to being an orphan?”
The same voice, the same affirmative.
With trembling hands, like a skeleton trying to move, I reached out and chose option two.
Accumulate Bias Units? Fine. Let me accumulate them. An apology was worthless. I’d rather be an orphan.
I wiped my face and slowly made my way back into the jungle.