Chapter 3The 50/50 Divorce

[Final Confirmation: Regardless of the outcome of the judgment, neither party is permitted to back out. Do you accept?]

I didn't hesitate for a second. I nodded immediately.

Liam scoffed dismissively. "What is there to regret about ditching a worn-out housewife?"

[Confirmation complete. Due to the unique mechanics of the 50/50 Split Divorce System, all individuals present must sign a strict non-disclosure agreement.]

[Anyone who reveals the specific details of this proceeding to the outside world—both the speaker and the listener—will be fined ten million dollars and sentenced to three years in prison.]

[Repeat offenders will have their tongues and hands permanently incapacitated.]

[The live broadcast will now be temporarily suspended and will resume only after the judgment is finalized.]

At that moment, a digital contract slowly rose from the console in front of us.

I grabbed the stylus and signed it without a moment's hesitation.

[Anyone harboring doubts or unwilling to comply has three minutes to leave the Judgment Hall.]

[After three minutes, remaining in the hall constitutes full legal consent to this agreement.]

The automated voice ceased, and the stage lights converged on a massive, glowing countdown clock on the screen.

A ripple of unease spread through the audience. Everyone was clearly harboring doubts.

But the fact that they were sitting here meant they believed the potential financial benefits far outweighed the risks of this new divorce method.

Exactly as I expected, not a single person left.

Three minutes later, every door and window in the hall slammed shut and locked automatically.

Scores of identical mannequins, each clutching a wooden gavel, slid out from hidden compartments in the walls, completely surrounding the audience.

[Time is up. Couple Number One, please step onto the biometric scanners.]

Liam looked completely unbothered, using the opportunity to mock me further.

"I work out every single day. I'm not like her, bloated and fat like a pig."

"You're lying! Mommy is only like this because she had a difficult pregnancy keeping me safe! You're the lazy one! You don't do anything at home, Mommy has to take care of you like a baby!"

My daughter aggressively waved her little fists, her fierce, protective instincts fully on display.

The audience gasped in shock.

"That daughter is completely brainwashed. What an ungrateful little brat."

Liam clutched his chest, putting on a spectacular performance of a devastated, heartbroken father.

"Lily! I'm your biological father! Did your mother brainwash you to say these things?"

My daughter shook her head and yelled clearly and loudly at the audience:

"Do the uncles in the audience go home and help their mommies cook and clean? If you don't, then were you all brainwashed too? Are you all just a bunch of ungrateful brats?!"

In an instant, the entire hall was plunged into dead silence.

[Alright, little one. Honest words are often hard to hear. Please return to your designated VIP seat. The little mannequins will play with you there.]

Beside my daughter's seat, an intricately carved, beautifully dressed porcelain doll slowly floated up.

"Mommy, you can do this!"

She hugged me tightly, her smile as bright as the sun.

I hugged her back gently, then placed her securely in her seat.

"I know. Trust Mommy."