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Part 19: No Way Except Through

  The taxi's engine hummed as they sped down the alternate route.

  Connie sat rigidly, eyes flicking between Takeshi and the road ahead.

  She could still see it—the way he leaned heavily against the seat, his chest rising and falling at different intervals.

  This was supposed to be the right choice.

  She had avoided the accident.

  This should have been enough.

  But something was wrong.

  Takeshi's breathing wasn't steadying.

  His fingers were twitching slightly.

  His lips parted, a weak, raspy breath escaping.

  Her stomach dropped.

  It was too slow.

  The taxi was too slow.

  "How much longer?" she asked sharply, turning to the driver.

  The man gave her an odd look. "Seven minutes. Maybe less if I—"

  Seven.

  Her pulse spiked.

  Seven was too long.

  Takeshi had already collapsed before the café last time. He had only barely made it before slipping into unconsciousness.

  Now—he had lost even more time.

  Her hands dug into the seat.

  "Takeshi?" she said, voice sharper now.

  He didn't react.

  She reached out, shaking his shoulder. "Hey, wake up!"

  His eyelids fluttered—but just barely.

  His lips parted slightly.

  "...Cold," he muttered weakly.

  Connie's chest tightened.

  No, no, no.

  She turned to the driver, voice laced with panic. "You need to go faster!"

  The driver frowned. "Miss, I told you, I'm already—"

  "I don't care! Just—please!"

  But even as she said it—she knew.

  It was too late.

  Takeshi let out a slow, shuddering breath.

  His body slumped.

  The color drained from his skin.

  His fingers twitched—once, twice.

  Then stopped moving.

  The cab was silent.

  Connie froze.

  For half a second, she still thought—maybe, maybe there was a chance—

  But no.

  She had seen this before.

  She knew what came next.

  The world blinked.

  The scent of coffee.

  The hum of soft conversations.

  The weight of her phone in her lap.

  Connie's eyes snapped open.

  She was back.

  Again.

  Her entire body shook. Her lungs felt empty.

  No.

  Not again.

  Not again, not again, not again—

  Her fingers dug into the table, knuckles white.

  This was supposed to be the right answer.

  She had avoided the crash.

  So why?

  Why had she failed again?

  Connie's hands dug into the wooden table.

  Her breath came in short, sharp gasps.

  She had failed again.

  The taxi had been too slow.

  She had avoided one death flag, only to walk straight into another.

  And now—she was back.

  Still in the café.

  Still at the very beginning.

  Her mind raced, trying to grasp at anything useful.

  Every time she made a move, it was as if the universe itself wanted to stop her.

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  She gritted her teeth.

  She didn't have time to sit here and feel sorry for herself.

  She needed to try again.

  And this time—

  She needed to be faster.

  A familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

  "Connie?"

  She didn't jump this time. She already knew it was coming.

  Ayaka was watching her.

  Her expression was confused, eyebrows drawn together slightly.

  "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

  Connie exhaled slowly.

  She barely looked up.

  "I'm fine," she muttered.

  Ayaka raised an eyebrow, worried. "You don't look fine. You're all stiff and weird."

  Connie didn't respond.

  There wasn't enough time.

  Chime.

  The café door swung open.

  Connie's stomach tightened.

  Takeshi walked inside.

  Her time window was already closing.

  This time—she wouldn't waste a second.

  She pushed up from her chair.

  Ayaka blinked.

  "Wait—where are you—"

  Connie was already crossing the café.

  Takeshi barely had time to register her presence before she grabbed his wrist.

  "You need to come with me. Now."

  Takeshi stared at her.

  "..What the hell?"

  "You're sick," she said, her grip tightening. "If we don't leave now, you're gonna die."

  His brow furrowed.

  His body wavered slightly—just like before.

  He was already feeling it.

  His subconscious was catching up.

  Connie didn't let him think too hard about it.

  She pulled him toward the door—

  "Wait—what?! What are you doing?!"

  Ayaka's voice rang out behind her.

  Connie winced.

  Ayaka had pushed herself out of her chair, staring at them.

  "Why are you kidnapping some random guy?!" she blurted out. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

  Several customers in the cafè turned around.

  Some had their attention caught by her statement, some others were simply curious at her shouting.

  Connie gritted her teeth.

  "I'll explain later!" she snapped.

  Ayaka stared at her.

  Then at Takeshi—who was clearly dazed and unsteady on his feet.

  Then back at Connie.

  Her expression shifted.

  She was still confused.

  Still shocked.

  But now, her concern was outweighing her skepticism.

  "...Connie, what's actually going on?" she asked, voice quieter.

  Connie hesitated for a second.

  She couldn't answer.

  She didn't have time.

  She turned back to Takeshi.

  They pushed through the café doors—

  And that was when she made her first mistake.

  The moment Connie and Takeshi stepped outside, her mind was racing.

  She couldn't take a taxi again.

  She couldn't run the whole way.

  She needed another option.

  But before she could settle on a plan—

  She felt a hand on her shoulder.

  "Hey," Ayaka said behind her. "Are you seriously not gonna—"

  Connie flinched at the sudden touch.

  It wasn't Ayaka's fault.

  It wasn't anyone's fault.

  But Connie's sharp reaction caught the eyes of a man passing by.

  A man carrying a full cup of coffee.

  He slipped, tripping slightly over the curb of the sidewalk.

  His cup slipped from his hands.

  The lid popped off mid-air.

  Scalding-hot liquid splashed onto the shoulder of another passing man.

  That man yelled in pain.

  He stumbled—bumping straight into a woman walking out of the café.

  She gasped—staggering backward.

  Her elbow knocked into a wobbly metal pole—

  The pole smacked against the wall—

  And the sign above the café entrance shook loose.

  Connie's eyes snapped upward.

  Her blood ran cold.

  No.

  It tilted—Then it fell.

  And it was coming down—

  Right toward her.

  THUNK.

  The world blinked.

  The scent of coffee.

  The quiet hum of a café.

  Connie's eyes snapped open.

  She was back.

  Again.

  Her entire body trembled.

  Her heart pounded so hard it hurt.

  It wasn't random.

  It wasn't a coincidence. It was her.

  She had caused it.

  By moving too fast.

  By trying to avoid the taxi.

  By trying to change things too much.

  Her actions had set off a chain reaction.

  She had gotten herself killed.

  And now—

  She had failed again.

  ----------------------------------

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  Connie tried over and over again.

  Seven more times.

  Connie had failed seven more times.

  Seven attempts. Seven resets. Seven deaths.

  Each time, the world had countered her.

  It wasn't always the same way.

  She would get caught in unexpected traffic.

  Once, the taxi she had taken got a flat tire midway.

  Another time, the driver had misheard the destination, taking a route so far out of the way that she had reset before even realizing the mistake.

  She had also taken shortcuts through alleyways—only for metal bars the construction workers were using to fall directly on her head.

  She had tried hitching a ride with a random driver—only to get into another crash. She had even survived that one, but she didn't make it to the hospital in time.

  She had even attempted making Takeshi throw up the poisoned drink, and it worked to an extent—but they didn't find any taxis around for more than ten minutes. Takeshi was getting worse since the poison hadn't completely left his system, so she opted to rent a bike from a nearby bike rental station and cycle the whole way there, only for the chain to break midway.

  She made the taxi wait for her, then made Takeshi throw up, and then take the alternative route. But as they drove, a nearby car exploded, sending sharp fragments of metal directly into the driver's skull. The taxi suddenly turned right, making them crash at full speed against a cement wall.

  The car had exploded because it had leaking fuel from the tank, and a spark from a construction worker welding something near it had ignited the fuel. Then, a gust of wind blew directly over the fire. The pressure inside the fuel tank became too much for the old model car, exploding just as the taxi was driving by. Although Connie had no way to notice this as they were speeding down the road.

  As a last effort, she tried to make the taxi go as far as possible, then call for an ambulance, thinking the signal was being jammed by something or someone. But it didn't work.

  The closest she had ever gotten was in a taxi.

  But no matter how fast the car was, how early she had left, or what route she took—

  She had never made it.

  Each failure was unique.

  Each failure was perfectly timed.

  Every condition had been just right for everything to go completely wrong.

  And now—

  She was back again.

  The café.

  The same wooden table beneath her fingers.

  The same hum of soft conversation.

  The same chill running down her spine.

  This isn't just bad luck.

  Her fingers curled into the fabric of her jacket.

  This was deliberate.

  Something—the System, the world, or whatever was behind this—

  It wasn't letting her win.

  Not like this.

  Not the way she wanted to.

  It was pushing her toward something else.

  Something bigger.

  She just didn't know what—

  "Connie?"

  A voice cut through the air.

  She didn't react.

  She didn't even look up.

  She was too deep in thought.

  Ayaka was calling her name.

  But right now—nothing else mattered.

  She needed to understand.

  She needed to figure this out.

  Her mind raced through every past loop.

  Every reset.

  Every failure.

  She had tried so many different methods.

  Riding a bike. Taking a taxi. Avoiding a taxi. Even making Takeshi throw up before moving.

  None of them had worked.

  Except for one time.

  One single attempt where she had actually saved Takeshi.

  Her stomach tightened.

  She remembered it clearly.

  The loop where she had escaped with him.

  The loop where they had made it to the hospital before he died.

  The only time she had won.

  That was also the time she had run into them.

  The two men.

  The ones who had been after Takeshi from the very beginning.

  The ones from the Organization.

  They had chased her. They had cornered her. They had tried to stop her.

  And ironically—that was the only time she had won.

  Her pulse thundered in her ears.

  It made no sense.

  Unless—

  Her breath hitched.

  Unless that was the real point of all this.

  Not just saving Takeshi.

  Not just getting him to the hospital.

  But going against them.

  Against the Organization.

  Against the people trying to kill him.

  Her heartbeat pounded violently.

  That's it.

  The realization hit her like a truck.

  The System—or the universe itself—was forcing her down that path.

  She had tried to avoid it.

  She had tried to find another way.

  And each time, the world had crushed her under its weight.

  Like a game where the only way to progress was to face the boss battle head-on.

  It wasn't enough to just save Takeshi.

  It wanted her to fight back. To face the people after him.

  To go against the Organization directly.

  Her hands curled into fists.

  If that was the case—

  Then there was no way out.

  No path except through.

  No escape except to fight.

  She hated it.

  She had never wanted this.

  She had never asked for this.

  She had spent her entire life avoiding problems, avoiding confrontation.

  And now—

  Now, she was being thrown into the middle of a war she didn't understand.

  Her throat tightened.

  She didn't want to die again.

  She didn't want to face them again.

  But the System—or whatever controlled this nightmare—wasn't giving her a choice.

  Her grip on the table tightened.

  Fine.

  If it wanted a fight—

  She would find a way to win it.

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