My Target Invades My Everyday Life

"Penalty for mission failure—the passage home will be permanently closed."

Before signing off, Hugo had reminded me, "You need to be careful, Nathan. Jenny is mentally unstable. She throws things at you whenever she feels like it, and she's been keeping Aaron on the side as her sugar baby. Don't do anything rash."

Being perfectly aware of that myself, I nodded in agreement.

Meanwhile, ever since I refused the system's renewal package, it became all dejected and forlorn. Even its robotic tone seemed to carry a hint of weary resentment.

It didn't want me to leave, but I was adamant about leaving.

Just as I was about to lay my cards on the table with the system once and for all, the villa's front door flew open. Jenny strode in, radiating a frosty air.

There was something rather off about her today. Her usually attractive face was now dark and stormy, and her eyes were completely bloodshot.

Staring at me, she made her approach.

I couldn't be bothered to speak. I simply moved toward the kitchen to get her a glass of water like I always did—to go through the final motions one last time.

But she grabbed my wrist, her grip unexpectedly strong. "Nathan, I'm telling you right now that you'd better not even think about things you shouldn't. Just behave yourself and stay by my side. I won't mistreat you."

I looked down at my arm. Right beneath the cuff of my sleeve was a particularly eye-catching bruise. It was the "souvenir" I got after she threw a cup at me a few days ago when she was in a bad mood.

It seemed Jenny had a pretty poor understanding of what mistreatment was.

At my silence, Jenny released me and launched into an explanation on her own accord. "Nothing is going on between Aaron and me. I just admire his talents."

I snorted to myself. She had said the same thing a million times by now. I could practically recite it myself.

Back when Jenny and I got married, Aaron showed up in a white suit that looked more like a groom's outfit than mine did. He'd intimately held her hand, tilted his head, and looked me up and down as if I were a piece of filth.

"Who's this, Jenny?" he asked.

What had she said then?

She gently stroked his face and replied, "Someone unimportant."

From that moment on, all I felt toward this woman—and this mission—was numbness.

At that moment, a tiny figure came running toward us. Ryan shot over and hugged Jenny's legs. He raised his chin in the air and shouted at me with open disdain, "Stop trying to convince him, Mom! He's just jealous that Uncle Aaron is more talented and more handsome than he is!"

I looked at Ryan, the child I had raised with my own hands. It felt like an icy fist had clenched around my heart.

I didn't experience the suffering of carrying a baby to term. But Ryan had been a sickly child. I'd spent countless days and nights staying by his side, pulling all-nighters that left my eyes bloodshot from exhaustion.

I quit my job, gave up my career, and learned to cook nutritional meals. I woke up in the middle of the night just to check on him and keep an eye on his condition. I treated him as my only emotional anchor in this godforsaken place.

But now, the very person I considered my light in this world was turning against me.

"Let him leave!" Ryan kept rattling off. "He stays home all day and lives off you anyway. How could he ever compare to Uncle Aaron, who's excellent at everything?"

After transmigrating to this world, I'd admired Jenny's business acumen and gradually handed over control of the company to her. After Ryan was born, I left the company completely to focus on caring for our family.

It was only after Jenny spent all her time wooing Aaron that the last of my feelings died out. The mother and son had been the ones who made me think there was still a glimmer of hope in this darkness of despair. What a mockery it was to see this happening now.

I was shaking with rage. Ryan was a heartless and ungrateful boy. He was indeed cut from the same cloth as his mother.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I raised my hand and swung it at Ryan's pale, delicate face without pause.