Chapter 3.

Mark stepped closer, his face twisting with disbelief. “What the hell has gotten into you, fat ass?”

His anger deepened when Clara simply stared at him, showing no reaction or remorse.

“I should just divorce you,” he snapped. “Maybe then you'll finally understand what you're losing. You're nothing without me, Clara.”

Clara stared at him for a moment before giving a small nod. “Fine. Divorce me.”

Mark froze, and the anger on his face disappeared, replaced by pure disbelief.

“What?”

“You heard me.” Clara folded her arms across her chest, keeping her eyes on him despite the ache that still burned across her cheek. “If you want a divorce, then divorce me.”

Mark stared at her as though she had suddenly started speaking another language. He had expected her to panic, cry, apologize, and promise that she would change.

Whenever he had threatened to leave her in the past, Clara had always become frightened and tried to make peace, but she wasn't doing that now.

“I was only angry,” Mark said, his voice losing some of its confidence. “I didn't mean it.”

Clara raised an eyebrow. “You just said you wanted to divorce me.”

“I said it because you were provoking me.”

“So you don't want a divorce?”

Mark hesitated, and for the first time, Clara saw uncertainty flicker across his face. He swallowed before forcing a laugh.

“Of course I don't. I was only trying to teach you a lesson.”

A faint smile tugged at Clara's lips. She knew exactly what he was doing.

“I accept the divorce,” she said calmly.

Mark's eyes widened. “Clara, I just told you I was angry.”

She stepped closer, her eyes locked on his. “You're joking, but I'm not.”

He stared at her in silence, and she could almost see the thoughts racing through his mind.

For years, he had made her believe that she was the one who needed him. He had convinced her that he was doing her a favor by staying with her, when the truth was that he had been enjoying everything she provided.

Now that she had accepted his threat, he suddenly had something to lose.

Mark's throat moved as he swallowed hard. “You're not serious.”

Clara's expression remained calm. “I've never been more serious about anything in my life.”

She moved closer until there was barely any space between them and held his gaze without hesitation.

“You don't get to threaten me with divorce anymore.”

Mark stared at her, unable to hide the fear settling in his eyes.

Clara watched him carefully. She had seen fear in his eyes before, but never like this. Mark had always been the one making threats, raising his voice, and deciding when an argument was over because he believed Clara would eventually give in, too afraid of losing him to fight back.

This time, however, she had nothing left to lose.

“You should leave my room,” she said.

Mark frowned. “What?”

“I said leave!”

His jaw tightened, but Clara neither moved nor looked away. She expected him to argue, yet after a long moment, he turned and walked toward the door. As soon as it closed behind him, the blue screen appeared again.

Ding!

[Reclaimer, you do not have time to waste.]

Clara narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

The screen changed.

[The apocalypse will begin in thirty days.]

[Your first mission is now available.]

Clara took a slow breath. “What exactly are you?”

More words appeared before her.

[I am your Guardian System.]

[You were chosen because you survived the longest despite repeated betrayals, abandonment, and extreme circumstances.]

Clara's expression tightened as memories flashed through her mind.

“So you chose me because I suffered?” she asked quietly.

[You survived.]

Clara fell silent because the answer struck deeper than she expected. She had spent years believing that her suffering made her weak, and Mark had made sure she believed it. Every insult, every humiliation, and every rejection had slowly convinced her that there was something wrong with her.

Yet she had survived.

Even when nobody wanted her, she kept moving.

Clara slowly curled her hands into fists.

“Then I'll survive again.”

The screen flickered.

[Reclaimer's Vault unlocked.]

A strange sensation spread through Clara's body, followed by a flash of blue light. The space in front of her seemed to bend before a transparent doorway appeared.

Clara stared at it cautiously. “What is that?”

[Interdimensional storage space.]

[Time is frozen inside the vault. Food, medicine, equipment, and other resources stored inside will not spoil or deteriorate.]

Clara's eyes widened as hope pushed through the fear in her chest for the first time since waking up. She could store food, medicine, water, and anything else she could obtain without worrying about it spoiling before the apocalypse.

“What do I have to do?”

The screen changed again.

[Primary Mission: Acquire a new house.]

[Time Limit: within 5 hours.]

[Reward: Vault expansion.]

Clara nodded slowly, but finding a new house was another problem. She immediately grabbed her phone and checked her bank account.

Her account balance was one dollar.

Clara hissed through her teeth and clenched her fists. What was she supposed to do? She couldn't even afford a meal, let alone a house.

Although the business was in Clara's name, Mark had always handled the finances. He controlled the company accounts, transferred the profits into accounts she couldn't access, and gave her just enough money to cover household expenses.

For years, Clara had trusted him completely. She had never questioned where the business profits went or why she had so little money of her own.

Now, after everything that had happened, she finally understood how thoroughly he had stripped her of control.

Before she could think of a solution, the smell of food drifted into the room, making her empty stomach growl. She frowned and walked downstairs.

When Clara entered the dining room, she stopped.

Mark had prepared dinner.

He stood beside the table, arranging the plates as though this were an ordinary evening, and Clara stared at him because Mark had never done anything like this before.

For years, she had cooked for him, cleaned after him, and made excuses for his behavior, yet he had never cared whether she was tired or hungry.

Now, after she had asked for a divorce, he was suddenly preparing dinner for her.

A faint smile touched Clara's lips. Her old self would have fallen for it, mistaking the meal for an apology and convincing herself that Mark was finally changing.

But that woman was gone.

Clara pulled out the chair and sat down while Mark quickly placed a plate in front of her.

“I thought you might be hungry,” he said softly.

Clara looked at the food before turning her attention back to him.

Mark watched her carefully. When the corner of her lips lifted, his shoulders relaxed, and a faint smile returned to his face.

He thought she was falling for him again.

Clara picked up her fork and calmly met his gaze.

“Sign the divorce papers.”

The smile disappeared from Mark's face.

“What?”

“Sign the divorce papers,” Clara repeated.

Mark stared at her, clearly struggling to understand what he had just heard.

“And I'll give you the house.”

Mark's eyes widened. “You'll give me the house?”

“Yes.”

For a moment, relief crossed his face. The house was the one thing he had always wanted to have under his control, and Clara was now offering it to him.

His hesitation disappeared.

“Then I'll sign.”

Clara's lips curved into a faint smile. She had known he would agree. But before Mark could celebrate, she raised one finger.

“But there's one condition.”

The relief vanished from his face. “What condition?”