Hailey’s apartment was barely the size of a generous storage unit, but during sunset, it almost looked warm. Soft orange light spilled through the window, landing on the neat rows of outfits she never wore to work. But tonight wasn’t about work.

Tonight was about a mission.

Some girls spent hours picking out the perfect outfit for a date.
Hailey spent hours picking out the perfect outfit for a plan.

She pulled a dress out of the closet and laid it across her bed like a surgeon preparing instruments. She didn’t date anymore—her exes had emotionally finished her—so all this glamor? Yeah. This was strictly professional.

High heels? Check.
Perfect lashes? Check.
Blush that could kill a man with one look? Double check.

Her charm level? Let’s just say dangerously distracting.
But then again, that was all part of the job.

Hailey leaned closer to the mirror, applying lipstick with the slow, confident precision of someone who’d learned how to weaponize beauty. She straightened, giving herself one last full-body look.

You’d think the whole thing was glamorous.
But trust her—this chaos came with a price.

And tonight?
Tonight she was stepping into someone else’s world… and she was going to watch it crumble.

She arrived at a classy restaurant—dim lights, soft music, that expensive-pretending-to-be-casual kind of vibe. Across from her sat a man who didn’t even realize he’d already lost.

Hailey smirked, slow and dangerous.

Because her?

She caught cheaters for a living.

The man trembled, already sweating as she slid photos, printed messages, and one crispy envelope of evidence across the table. He dropped to his knees beside her chair, begging so loudly the nearby tables pretended not to hear.

Hailey didn’t bother staying to listen.

She stood, slipped on her sunglasses with a practiced flick, and walked away as the stack of papers scattered behind her. The man scrambled after them on all fours like he was trying to pick up the mess of his life.

Hailey didn’t look back.
She never did.

A wink at the invisible audience around her, and she stepped outside—

Miss Ex, clocking out for the night.

1

The train screeched to a stop, and Hailey squeezed herself between commuters, clutching her tote bag like it contained her mortal soul.

She just wanted a quiet ride home.
Life said: lol no.

A pair of girls in front of her were whispering way too loud to be called whispering.

GIRL 1:

“I seriously feel like he’s cheating on me!”

GIRL 2:

“Oh, have you heard about Miss Ex? You should hire her, dude. She’s good. I heard she’s exposed a bunch of trashy guys. Her identity’s super tight too—no one even knows who she is.”

GIRL 1:

“Really? That’s so slay. Where do I even… find this Miss Ex?”

Hailey’s ears perked, literally.
Her glasses even glinted like she’d leveled up in hearing range.

Hailey (thoughts):
Call me a villainess, but justice will be served. Hehehe.

She held back a tiny smirk but quickly wiped it off because introvert mode required her to look harmless—like a beige used teabag.

The announcer’s voice buzzed in through her earbuds.

NEWS STORY 1 — Business Power Couple on the Brink

“In today’s headlines, the country’s most talked-about business couple may be headed toward a split.
Reports say Ava and Damian Reyes—founders of the luxury tech-lifestyle brand Reyes Collective—are facing trouble after Ava allegedly discovered messages between Damian and a well-known model.”

Hailey made a face.

Hailey (thoughts):
Men.
Then immediately:
No, no… remember therapy: not ALL men. Just… most of the ones I’ve met.

NEWS STORY 2 — Fashion Chairwoman Marries in Secret Island Wedding

“In lighter news, congratulations to Angelica Kanzaki, chairwoman of Kanzaki Textiles. She tied the knot in a private island wedding in Asia—no media allowed—marrying her longtime partner, a non-showbiz entrepreneur known for staying low-key.”

Hailey blinked.

Hailey (thoughts):
Wish I could run off to an island too… except I’d probably still be paying bills while snorkeling.

She nudged the door open with her foot, kicked off her shoes, dropped her bag, and collapsed onto her tiny dining chair.

She hit the TV remote without looking—news still playing.

The moment she opened the envelope:

SFX: hnghhgghhhh??!?!

Bills.
Bills.
Bills.
And more betrayal than her last ex.

“Bills. Bills. Bills.
It all started with bills piling up, man.”

She grabbed her notebook, pen, calculator app, and began scribbling like a tired accountant who never asked for this storyline.

Hailey slurped her instant noodles like it was her last meal on Earth—loud, messy, dramatic, the whole “I’ve given up on life but also… this is kinda delicious” vibe. She stood in front of the open fridge, the cold air spilling onto her face as she grabbed a drink.

And then—mid-sip—she froze.
A spark of realization hit her so hard she almost choked on the noodles.

I used to be a successful staff in my field—

The thought slammed into her like a flashback montage no one asked for.

Suddenly, her mind cut to the past:

—Hailey, confident, polished, and dressed in a full office outfit that screamed competent adult energy.
—Hailey grinning as her boss handed her a promotion letter; confetti practically falling from the heavens.
—Hailey sitting dramatically on a throne-like office chair, oversized sunglasses on her face, counting money like she was the elegant mob boss of some corporate underworld.

She wasn’t just successful.
She looked legit unstoppable.

But then—everything shifted.

It felt like someone slowly dragged a dimmer switch across her life.
Days blurred. Nights stretched.
Her apartment slipped from Pinterest starter-pack cute to crime documentary background in record time.

“—until the pandemic hit,” Hailey narrated in her head, staring at the memories like they were scenes from a tragic sitcom.
“Then came the layoffs, the reality checks… and suddenly I had no job. No nothing.”

Flashbacks rolled in:

Hailey, sneezing violently into a tissue like her immune system had also filed for resignation.
Hailey buried under blankets, cocooned like a depressed burrito.
Her once-organized room slowly devolving into battlefield chaos.
Hailey surviving purely on instant noodles, caffeine, and the last three functioning brain cells she had left.

It was a downfall arc no one prepared her for.

Then—PING!

A tiny notification popped up on her screen, and somehow, that one sound changed the entire trajectory of her life.

“Then one day… someone asked me for help.
And everything changed.”

In her mind’s eye, a tiny chibi version of herself appeared—hands on hips, cape fluttering dramatically—as money rained down from the sky like confetti from the universe.

“I didn’t know stalking could literally pay my bills,” she admitted, zero shame, just vibes.

Soon she was typing furiously, fingers flying across the keyboard like she was fighting for her life in an online battle royale.
She chugged soda like a gremlin powering up for the night shift.

“Turns out, I’m just way too good at being a keyboard warrior and professional stalker.
So it became my side job.”

Her days became a collage of chaotic hustle:

Hailey working part-time at a convenience store, eyes dead but smile customer-service-worn.
Hailey hauling bags at the market, muttering to herself but still kinda cute in a “I’m surviving, barely” way.
Hailey juggling two other odd jobs while looking like she was one shift away from evaporating into thin air.

“On top of like… two other part-time gigs.”

Somehow, she still kept going.
Because that’s what Hailey did—she spiraled, she fell apart, she slurped noodles…
But she always, always got back up.

Hailey chucked the empty noodle cup and half-finished soda straight into the trash, like she was throwing away the remains of her will to function. She sighed dramatically and dropped her head onto the table with a soft thud.

Life’s exhausting, dude.
The thought drifted through her mind like a depressed cloud.

Then—DING DONG.

The doorbell chimed. Hailey didn’t move. She was too tired, too broke, too done with everything.

But someone entered anyway—because of course they did. A rustle of paper bags, footsteps, the familiar scent of food she could never afford right now.

“Sushi?” Hailey’s head popped up like a prairie dog. “Tell me that’s perfect timing, right? There’s this new café in the neighborhood—they serve sushi now, and the line was insane. I had to try it. We had to. Look, look, it looks so good.”

Her eyes sparkled with a sudden burst of life she couldn’t explain if she tried.

“And oh! I’ve also got a bestie who hacks accounts for me,” she added proudly, as if she were listing normal human achievements.

In her imagination, a chibi version of her and her hacker BFF popped up in a dynamic fighting pose—tiny fists raised, dramatic lightning behind them.

No one messes with two girlies on a mission to take down the exploiters of brittle hearts.

Reality snapped back. Hailey remained sprawled across the table like a dead plant, too lazy to actually sit up. Carl casually walked into the apartment holding a bag of take-out sushi like it was a peace offering.

Funny thing about Carl.

He once confessed to her.
She rejected him—mostly because she thought he’d crumble into dust from heartbreak.

But nope. Rejection didn’t break him. It helped him figure out who he really liked.

And apparently… it wasn’t women.

Turns out Carl was way more into men than women, and honestly? Good for him.

Now he was her bestie girlie for life, her platonic soulmate, her food-delivery guardian angel. And she was genuinely grateful he existed.

Carl, always the observant one, glanced around and immediately noticed the mountain of unpaid bills stacked on the counter.

Without a word, without hesitation—
she hid them.

Hailey groaned. “I know, bish. Don’t remind me.”

Carl counted his cash with a practiced flick of his fingers. Hailey’s eyes twinkled at the piles of money on the table—but she quickly shook it away. “Here,” she said, trying to act casual.

Tiny, angry chibi versions of herself practically floated above her head. “I swear I’ll burn those—get them out of my sight!” one squealed. Another shouted, “You’ll get arrested. Just be a good girl and take it!”

“Noooo!” Hailey groaned dramatically.

She wasn’t about to get tempted by this chaebol. Sure, she might look like a gold digger sometimes, but this was different. His family owned the country’s most prestigious IT software company, and he was literally the only heir to the chairman.

Plus, he was an expert hacker. He’d helped Hailey protect her private client website so it wouldn’t get nuked by shady viruses or random attacks. Small favors were fine; she could tolerate those. But big money? Him paying for her responsibilities? That was where she drew the line.

Ping! Ping! Her eyes twinkled again.

Carl rolled his eyes. “Him again? What did he say this time? Lemme guess—”

He mimicked her phone screen, and sure enough, Marco’s chat popped up:

Hey, can you help me? My phone’s broken. I really need a new one for work.
There’s a new release of the WePhone—if I’m buying a phone anyway, shouldn’t I get the latest?
If you have extra cash… could you get it for me?
My salary’s delayed and deducted again. I’m using my friend’s phone just to chat you.

Hailey groaned and buried her face in her hands. Somehow, helping Marco had officially become a recurring nightmare.

Carl raised an eyebrow. “And you believe that crap?”

Hailey scowled. “You cheated! You read it already!”

“No I didn’t, dummy!” Carl shot back, hands up in mock defense.

“Yeah, why not? He needs it,” Hailey argued, gesturing at her phone like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Besides, who doesn’t need a phone nowadays? What if he really needs it? We can’t just assume all men are the same.”

Carl groaned. “Girl, he’s asking for the latest one! We literally hunt cheaters for a living, but yours could cheat right in front of you and you’d still hand him snacks.”

Hailey folded her arms, unfazed. “Yeah, but if you’re buying something new, why not the latest? Why can’t you trust him… this time? I’m sure.”

“Yeah. Sure. To get dumped again,” Carl muttered, shaking his head.

“Stop being such a buzzkill,” Hailey shot back.

“I’m being realistic,” Carl replied, shrugging.

“Judgmental,” she fired right back.

Carl snorted. “Psh. You really need to see a doctor. Your head needs a whole new screw, girl. Now eat. You’ll need it later—I’m telling you. I’m a man too… ONCE!”

Hailey rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips. Some things never changed.

“You’re some of the reasons why they break up with me. 'You’re BFF is basically a man!'” Hailey mimicked, voice dripping with jealous-ex energy.

“No, I’m not,” Carl said, waving a hand. “I am—but I’m not,” he added quickly, smirking.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Hailey replied.

“Right?” Carl shrugged. “They’re just insecure. I’m prettier. Richer,” Carl continued, crossing his arms like a king.

“Yeah… I’ll take the richer part,” Hailey muttered under her breath, glaring.

“But I am prettier than you,” Carl teased, leaning back smugly.

“You fell for me though,” she said with a grin.

Hailey giggled to herself, scrolling through her laptop while nibbling at her snack.

Ping! Ping!

She suddenly choked on her food. “—I’m sorry, did I read that right? Five thousand dollars?!”

She opened the chat:

Unknown Client (Wife):

Please… I really need your help. I’ll pay $5,000—5,000,000 won—anything. Please catch my husband. I know he’s cheating… I just need proof.

Hailey blinked. “Oof. A whopping five grand just to prove her husband’s cheating?!”

(Thoughts: People are getting crazier by the day…)

Another notification popped up almost immediately:

Unknown Client (Husband):

I’ll pay you $10,000 if you don’t take her request. Don’t entertain her. I need this handled quietly.

Carl leaned over her shoulder, eyes glinting. “Ten thousand dollars just to keep quiet. See? That’s how wild people are. The bad ones always have the most money.”

Hailey raised an eyebrow. “But what are we here for, huh?”

“Exactly,” Carl said, grinning. “‘Good people suffer, bad men succeed.’ So we take the bad men’s money… and then take them down.”

Hailey cracked her neck and knuckles, stretching like she was about to enter a boxing ring. “Who’s gonna keep quiet? Not me. I’m the ultimate keyboard warrior.”

“That's my girl,” Carl said, nodding with approval.

Ping. Hailey’s laptop buzzed again. She smirked. Miss Ex has logged in.