I kill my tyrant husband

odles mingled with the musty od

study table was her younger brother's thin frame, hunched over his books, frighteningly silent. Their father had passed away three years ago, and the bur

convenience store from the afternoon until late evening, her meager salary barely making a dent. Her

moonless night, without a single ray of hope. Every effort felt futile. She was utterly exhausted. Tired of the

ape in Anna's mind. Without a moment's hesitation, not a single tear fell. Anna reached for a glass of cool water, emptied the pills into her palm, and brought

the end. The end to

ualid rental room, but an overwhelmingly opulent space. A soaring ceiling held a dazzling crystal chandelier, the cold

ss, gorgeous but heavy and unfamiliar. Her mind went blank for a moment, then fragments of memorie

online not long ago? A story with a wealthy family motif, layers of intrig

, into the role of Clara, the girl married

appeared before her eyes, gl

er, to the wor

e System (Bet

sassinate Jonat

n: Safe return to the real w

uest will end when the target is

luck,

s the male lead in "Chaos," the magnate of an arms empire, a man renowned for being utterly col

e of the original Clara, or about what kind of person Jonathan Goldsmit

other for the rest of their lives, enough to wipe away every b

l chamber was cold and deserted. Jonathan Goldsmith wasn't there. On her wedding night, her hu

nected to it was a spacious dressing room like a high-end fashion boutique, and a marble bathroom

space even gloomier. The mansion was immense. She walked past closed rooms, ancient paintings with eyes that seemed to follow

e a gilded tomb. Not a sound, not a soul. Only a terrifying

ike an intruder. This mansion wasn't a home; it was a dangerous

Goldsmiths was, or if he deserved to die. But she knew how pathetic h

e silent night of the Goldsmiths' mansion, beginning h