Chapter 3My Husband Killed Me Ninety-Nine Times

On the tenth day after the ninety-eighth death, according to the usual pattern, Clara’s body was due for another small setback. Declan should also have received the system's mission notification. The ninety-ninth time was almost upon me.

I even started preparing in advance. I checked the gas pipes in the basement to ensure they were clear, loosened the screws on the balcony railing, and sharpened a dagger. This was so that if he found it inconvenient to act, I wouldn’t have to struggle fiercely and suffer more before I died.

After doing all this, I looked at the withered flowers on the balcony, and for some reason, tears blurred my eyes. This was once the garden he and I had built together. But now it was somber and lifeless. I simply pulled out all the roses by their roots, threw them all away, along with all my personal belongings, discarding everything. Anyway, there was only one more time, and I would be free. Better to leave cleanly, without a trace.

He returned, smelling of alcohol. Seeing the unusually empty and neat house, he was momentarily taken aback. "That dress... I remember you were as happy as a child when you received that gift."

I gazed at the brief moment of tenderness in his eyes, feeling a strange sense of unreality. The light blue dress I was wearing was indeed the first gift he had given me. Back then, he wasn't yet the monster who would cruelly murder me for his beloved.

"Really? I don't remember."

"Nina, are you still sulking?"

"Can't you be a little more sensible? Clara only gets one life, and you've died ninety-eight times and you're fine, aren't you? One more time won't matter."

"Just one more time. Once Clara fully recovers, I'll compensate you properly. Then, whatever you want to do, I'll be there with you."

Ha, how ridiculous.

"Declan Martin, how can you kill someone ninety-eight times and still remain so unfazed, without a flicker of guilt?" I calmly threw the ring he gave me when we got married out the window.

Watching the sparkling diamond disappear from sight, Declan suddenly felt a strange unease. Ninety-eight times, and Nina had never thrown away their wedding ring, but today she was so uncharacteristically defiant. He suddenly felt an emptiness in his heart, as if something important was being stripped from his life. He didn't seem as decisive as he had been in the previous ninety-eight times he killed me.

"Nina, maybe there's another way to save Clara..."

"It's already the last time. You're saying this now? It's too late." My unusual calmness unsettled him. He suddenly took a step forward, grabbing my wrist, staring intently into my eyes.

"The last time. Do it."

He didn't make a move, just impatiently tore off his tie and threw it on the floor. His grip on my hand was painfully tight. "Are you really so willing to die?" His voice held a hidden mix of reluctance and frenzy.

I suddenly laughed. What was he so reluctant about? Three years ago, the first time he choked me, I begged, I questioned. I asked him why me, what our relationship meant, pleaded with him to let me go. But his eyes only saw Clara. Later, I tried to escape, to get away from them, away from this damned system! Yet no matter where I fled, even overseas, Declan would find me, bringing me back to this cage-like home. He wouldn't allow me to leave without his permission, as I was tied to Clara's health and the Martin family's decade of kindness to me. So I compromised.

At first, I still held onto hope, even if it wasn't love, even if it was for that tiny bit of childhood sweetheart affection, hoping he might show me some pity. But now, with over ninety deaths accumulated, those questions, tears, and affection had long since vanished.