The Male Lead and I Are Definitely Just Ordinary Classmates [Urban Superpowers]

The current tentative direction is: The heroine transmigrates into a game as a random NPC who is supposed to die in the prologue. But every time she successfully dies, the male lead forces the game to reload and brings her back. Without her memories, the heroine is like a goldfish: Huh, I died... Wait, I didn't die. Let me die again... Huh, I died... Wait, I didn't die. Let me die again... After countless loops: The heroine: This is so strange. Wherever I go, there's another corpse... Wait, isn't that the person who was supposed to be the final boss? Huh? You're dead? What am I supposed to do now? The boss dies faster than the mooks. What on earth is going wrong? The curly-haired puppy: (Doesn't speak, just silently wipes his weapon.) #If you don't know who's going to get you killed, just take out everyone who deserves to die# * The System hesitates: Could it be that... The heroine (determined) (optimistic) (confident): Impossible. There's no way he's protecting me. #Wait, are you saying you hold hands, hug, and kiss, but you're still just ordinary classmates?# #Host, take that back right now! The male lead's about to go berserk!# * An incredibly oblivious office worker heroine X An innocent, gloomy, curly-haired puppy There should be livestream and forum elements. Not sure. Don't trust the blurb; the actual story may vary (?) I've thought for a long time about where to put this, and finally decided to put it in the blurb. I don't know how to explain it, but I've been in a bad place for the past year. I've never doubted myself this much. Countless times, I've been overcome by the despairing feeling that "I don't think I've ever known how to write a novel." I don't know why I'm like this. It feels like I've been fighting something invisible all along. Every line I write ends up being rejected by me. I don't know what I'm doing, what the point of writing novels is, or why I write. I don't know how many drafts I've thrown away. Even though I haven't published anything, there hasn't been a single day during this stagnant period when I've truly rested. But in the end, I still didn't publish anything. I've revised my ideas for this novel countless times, too. Every opening was completely different. What am I striving for? I don't know. But I'm already suffering so much from being stuck in place, so I've decided to publish it anyway, even though I feel my writing doesn't meet the standard for publication at all. I honestly don't know if I can still write novels. I've never doubted myself like this before. But I've devoted almost all my free time in life to writing novels, and if I don't keep writing, I don't know what else I can do. If I just give up like this, it would feel like rejecting my whole self. I really can't accept that. So in the end, I've decided to publish it. If I don't start, there'll never be a chance to finish. This novel won't have a fixed update schedule. Also, my own subjective judgment is the only criterion: if I decide a section of the plot isn't working, I may heavily revise or rewrite it. I want to apologize in advance to all my dear readers. If you're willing to see this through to the end with me, I'll be deeply grateful. P.S. I'm not listing content warnings for this one. I know my style isn't for everyone, and I don't plan on forcing it to fit the mainstream... Those who've read my other novels already know what to expect. I'll say no more. I hope all of you, whom I love, can find joy in my stories. Theme: I want to write a shopping novel