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Watch Me Test Rat Poison (For My Girlfriend's Sweetheart) Novel Cover

Watch Me Test Rat Poison (For My Girlfriend's Sweetheart)

To launch her childhood friend Trevor’s streaming career, Brielle Davenport pressures the protagonist to consume rat poison on a live broadcast. He complies, dying on camera to grant Trevor instant fame. Although he typically resurrects within hours, this eighth transmigration marks his permanent departure. Having endured seven cycles of both salvation and suffering by Brielle’s hand, he uses this final death to repay his debt and return to his original world, leaving her to face the cold reality of his loss.
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Chapter 2

The doctors crowded around Logan, dabbing iodine on his scratch. But my scalded, blistered wounds from the boiling water went completely ignored.

Even when one of the doctors did happen to notice me, Brielle wouldn't allow anyone to tend to me. "Since you won't apologize, then you can just suffer," she said.

I met her icy stare and let out a soft, quiet laugh. What she didn't know was that she and I shared a bond that spanned across seven lifetimes.

In every single one of them, Brielle would save me, and we would end up together. But every time, she would also end up betraying me, leaving me to die filled with resentment.

This lifetime was no exception. When she was kicking up a fuss trying to break up with me, we got into a car accident. I fell into a coma after saving her.

While I was unconscious, the memories of those seven lives came back to me. The moment I woke up, my first decision was to clear every debt I owed her.

This time, I was going to sever our bond of seven lifetimes for good.

After the doctors left, Logan shot me a contemptuous glance and said, "I'm hungry, Bree. How I wish I could have some of Trev's chicken noodle soup."

Brielle looked at me, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Logan's hungry. Go make him some soup."

A bitter laugh escaped me as I pointed at the wounds on my body. "Brielle, I'm injured. I can't even get out of bed right now."

However, Brielle was convinced I was faking it. Ignoring my pain, she forcibly dragged me out of bed. I broke out in a cold sweat from the agony as she pulled me along behind her, but she paid me no heed and just continued hauling me out.

"Must you really be so jealous, Trevor? Well, since you can't get out of bed, I'll give you a helping hand!" she said, dragging me all the way to the kitchen and shoving me inside.

Then, she stared at me coldly. "Make Logan a good meal, and don't try anything stupid."

I looked down at the red mark she had left on my wrist and felt a wave of bitterness rising within me. Was this the way I was going to die in this lifetime? From pain?

With that thought in mind, I forced myself to stand. The agony felt like iron nails driven straight into my very bones. My hand shook so badly I couldn't hold the knife steady, and I ended up cutting myself, causing blood to drip everywhere.

Brielle looked at the blood in the bowl and frowned in displeasure. "Trevor, are you doing this on purpose? How is Logan supposed to eat that now?"

I ignored her and carried on working on the chicken soup.

Frustrated, she demanded, "Why are you so stubborn? If you'd just apologize to Logan, he wouldn't be angry anymore, and you wouldn't have to end up covered in wounds."

So she did notice that I was covered in wounds. She just chose to take it out on me for Logan's sake.

I slowly lifted my head and met her gaze. "Brielle, I did nothing wrong."

She stared at me hard, her voice thick with fury. "Trevor, do you have to go against me at every turn?"

Faced with my silence, she turned to leave. Right before she walked out, she threw one last glance over her shoulder and spat, "I really wish you would just die and never come back to life."

I was stunned for a moment. Then, with a smile on my face, I thought, "As you wish."

After I was done, I carried the bowl of chicken noodle soup out of the kitchen.

Logan sneered. "Trevor, who do you think Bree cares about more?"

I ignored him and walked straight past. The next second, I felt myself falling.

Logan had pushed me to the floor. The scalding soup spilled all over me, and shards of the broken bowl stabbed deep into my palms.

Logan shot me a taunting smile before picking up a piece of broken glass. He slashed his own wrist with it, then let out a loud, dramatic cry.

Brielle rushed out immediately and took in the scene before her.

"Trev, why… I was just trying to help you carry the soup. Why did you have to hurt me?"

Brielle's eyes blazed with anger as she glared at me.

"You're despicable," she said coldly, then put her arm around Logan and led him back to the bedroom.

I remained sprawled out on the floor, staring at my pierced palm.

Hot tears fell onto the wounds. I wasn't sure if I was crying from the pain or because she called me despicable.

After what felt like a long while, Brielle came back and helped me to the couch.

As she picked the shards out of my palm, she said, "Why do you have to be so stubborn? You know I just wanted you to apologize. Logan's not a bad person. He's just really dependent on me. I've only ever treated him like a younger brother this whole time."

I glanced at the fresh hickeys on her neck and lowered my head with a small, quiet smile.

My wounds wouldn't stop bleeding, and Brielle's expression darkened. She frowned slightly and asked, "Why are they healing so slowly?"

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