Going Out With a Bang

After failing a bomb disposal mission, my wife, who's also a bomb disposal expert, gives my shield to her true love.

I grab her hand and plead with her not to do it, but she shoves me away. "You're so selfish! You have a system that can revive you—why do you even need the shield? Jeremy is already weak, to begin with. He can't handle any impact and needs two shields to keep him safe!"

She doesn't know that the system has only given me two chances to be revived. I used the first chance when she begged me to save Jeremy Sawyer. During a mission last year, I used the second chance to save her from the brink of death.

It looks like I'm going to die today.

After the bomb exploded, the entire room turned into a sea of fire. Flames shot skyward, instantly engulfing my body.

The last image I saw was my wife, Harriet Philips, holding my blast shield firmly in front of Jeremy Sawyer, her first love.

When I regained consciousness, I had become a spirit tethered to Harriet's side. She was holding Jeremy's hand, which was slightly scorched by the flames, and gently blowing on it.

"Jeremy, your hand is all red from the burn. Let's hurry to the hospital to get it bandaged," she said with utmost concern.

Upon hearing this, a wave of bitterness flooded my heart.

Anyone could see the deep and affectionate bond between them. However, Harriet had been my wife for three years. Ironically, she had never shown such anxiety or concern for me.

The redness on Jeremy's hand was barely noticeable, but Harriet was overly worried. In contrast, she hadn't spared me a glance when I was engulfed in flames.

Jeremy seemed to be recovering from immense fear and shock as he said, "Hatty, this is just a minor injury. It's nothing. I'm glad you got here in time. Otherwise, I would've been seriously injured."

Harriet's expression remained tense. "Who says it's a minor injury? What if there's internal damage? We have to go to the hospital and get a doctor to examine you. Only then will I feel at ease."

As soon as her words fell, she pulled Jeremy by the hand and walked out with him. Her usually calm and composed face was filled with urgency.

Just as they were about to get into the car, one of our colleagues, Monica Hanks, stopped Harriet with a frown. "Harriet, why hasn't Aaron come out yet? The bomb went off just now! Could something have happened to him?"

At the mention of my name, Harriet's expression twisted into disgust. She snapped impatiently, "What could possibly happen to him? He's a selfish guy who values his life above all else. He's probably hiding somewhere. Step aside. Don't delay me from taking Jeremy to the hospital."

From the moment we left the explosion site until now, Harriet hadn't mentioned me once or expressed any concern for my safety. Even when someone else was worried about me, she had to belittle me.

It was clear that she had no regard for me, her husband.

Harriet shoved Monica aside rudely and pulled Jeremy along. She ignored Monica's calls as they got into the car and headed to the hospital.

At the hospital, it turned out that Jeremy wasn't injured at all after a simple medical examination. The flames had only lightly singed his hand.

Yet Harriet acted as if it were a grave injury. She insisted that the doctor bandage him up meticulously.

Jeremy looked at her gratefully. "You're so nice to me, Hatty."

Then, he added hesitantly, "Do you think Aaron might be in trouble without the blast shield? He came to save me, after all. If something bad happened to him, I'd feel guilty."

Harriet waved her hand dismissively and spoke without concern for me. "Aaron has the system—he won't die. You, on the other hand, have always been physically weak. So, you can't afford to get hurt, not even a little.

"Earlier, he wanted to keep the blast shield for himself, going on about how he'd truly die this time. He's so selfish!

"He has the system to save him, yet he still tried to trick me. I think he just couldn't stand seeing me treat you well. When he's back, I'm going to give him an earful!"

After Harriet ranted about me, she looked absolutely incensed. She made it sound like I had committed some heinous crime.

But I hadn't lied to her—I'd just been desperate to survive.

The system had only given me two chances to come back to life, and I had already used them up.