Mistress, I Was Wrong - Chapter 162 (2)

My name is Duncan Grimshaw, A hunter, I just had been married to my wife and we still didn't have any children. One day, While exploring the Dungeon with my Party, we found a strange thing that people will never expect to find in the Dungeon, a child, a small black child that somehow lives in the Dungeon.

Seeing that, I can only wonder ... how can a child exist in the Dungeon? who's are his parents?

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The smell of blood invaded my nostrils. I watched helplessly as the woman standing over me raised her sword. I was completely drained, I had no mana left, no items, nothing. As the crimson tendrils held me down by my arms and legs, all I could do was wait for my death.

As the sword drew near, I felt the last bit of courage I had disappear. I was going to die. Alone. In this god forsaken place filled with evil. And for what? To protect those ‘friends’? The same people who mocked me, took advantage of, and used me?

Oh, who am I trying to fool? I was here only because of my own greed. Because I wanted to be useful to someone. Because I wanted to that group to need me. To value me. To have a reason to keep me around. How naïve I was, thinking that power would grant those wishes. All it did was help build a wall between me and everyone else.

The sword approached. I saw the purple light reflect off the sword’s blade. After everything I went through, I hadn’t expected my death to be by the hands of another player. I saw her smile, but this time I didn’t think it was beautiful. It was an ugly smile because it was genuine. She was enjoying watching me die. She was enjoying killing me.

The sword struck my chest and pierced my heart. I let out a scream of pain and agony. The pain was so real, all of this was so real. It shouldn’t be, but it was. What should have been a simple game had become my new reality – all of our new reality. A reality filled with magic, war, blood, and death.

My vision darkened as the pain slowly faded. I felt the last of my vitality leave my body. It felt cold. I wondered to myself, when would I stop being? When would my thoughts disappear?

Soon, I saw those words I feared for all this time appear before me. “DEATH”, in the pale blue font the game always used. They remained suspended in the air for several seconds. It was over. After a long time of fighting, grinding, and exploring, it was finally over. I had died. This was the end of my story.

Suddenly, words before me shifted and changed into something different. I took a shallow breath as I heard a faint heartbeat.

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After the divorce, I amazed the world with my child.Forced into marriage, Ning Yichu always thought that Li Linyang hated her as his wife, until one night when he got drunk and cornered her with red eyes, “Ning Yichu? The one I damn well want is Ning Yichu!”Ning Yichu believed it to be true and sweetly managed their marriage, only to be met with a divorce agreement.Five years later, she returns gloriously with a new book “The Years My Ex-husband Couldn't”, alongside a pair of genius twins. She effortlessly navigates the jewelry world, becoming a top-notch jade carving artist, winning awards left and right. Countless socialites are willing to spend extravagantly for her work, causing a sensation online.What? The green tea is sick and dying, wanting her help? No way!What? The scumbag ex-husband is kneeling at the door begging for reconciliation? Let him go.But what's with this scumbag ex-husband? She finally found a tall, rich, and handsome man to be the stepdad for her kids, yet this bastard keeps causing trouble every day!“Wife, today you held Mo Boyou's hand once, met him seven times, spoke 327 words with him!”“Go away, we already divorced. Next, I'm not only going to hold his hand, meet, and speak with him, but also hug, kiss, and walk into the hall of marriage...”The scumbag ex-husband rages, veins popping.She thought he was going to hit her, but instead, he turned and stuffed a cute little girl into her arms, saying pitifully, “Wife, I was wrong. Our daughter cannot live without mommy. Please give me another chance!”The adorable little girl looks on pitifully, “Mommy, please love, please caress, please don't abandon me!”OMG! When did you steal one of my babies?

To be is to have a soul. The soul begets a will. Wills accumulate into mysterious psychic forces, weaving secret domains within the fabric of reality.