Chapter 1

To help Pure Love pass his assessment, my top spy wife made me a live target.

"Don't worry, Brady's aim is steady. He won't hurt you."

I trembled in fear, so she welded me to the target post with thick iron.

"Be good, stay still. If Brady fails the test, he'll be sent to northern Myanmar."

Pure Love secretly switched the foam bullets for real ones, riddling my body with holes, blood pooling on the ground.

Just as Darling came to check on me, he fainted at the sight of blood. So Darling abandoned my bullet-ridden body and rushed him to the hospital.

I was rescued, turned away, and never looked back.

But I heard that Darling, in an effort to make me return to her, shot herself 99 times.

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1

I was tied to the target post, my limbs firmly welded with thick iron.

Even my neck was constricted, making it difficult to breathe.

There were already five or six bullet holes in my body. My face was pale, and I trembled all over in pain.

A distant voice, cold and filled with rage, shouted: "Don't move! How many times do I have to tell you?!"

I could only grit my teeth and endure, responding with a "yes."

Immediately after, another shot rang out, viciously piercing my left shoulder. I spat out a mouthful of fresh blood.

Five minutes earlier, I had come to the base with a cake to celebrate Vera's triumphant return.

By chance, I stumbled upon her intimately embracing Brady, teaching him how to shoot.

I cleared my throat softly, shyly reminding Vera of my arrival.

Unexpectedly, Brady pouted and whined, asking me to be the live target.

"I just can't get into the right mindset. A scarecrow isn't the same as a real person..."

I immediately refused, shaking my head and waving my hands frantically.

Vera frowned, hesitating, until she saw the scar on Brady's hand - a wound he'd received for her. Her heart instantly softened.

"Brady's hand was once injured protecting me, that's why he can't hold the gun steady. Don't be petty, learn to be as generous as him."

She repeatedly assured me that they were using an air gun, and the bullets were made of foam, incapable of causing harm.

Only then did I reluctantly agree to stand at the center of the target.I can breathe and tremble when bullets hit my face, for I am still a living person after all.

"What's wrong with you? You keep moving around, are you trying to sabotage this on purpose?"

I patiently explained that I had childhood trauma and was triggered by gunshots, causing panic attacks.

"Brother Zephyr, it's okay if you don't want to help. It's my own fault for not being good enough with guns. No big deal, I'll just get beaten by the boss..."

Brady rolled up his sleeve, revealing whip marks, and choked back tears as he packed up his things to leave.

Vera suddenly became enraged, grabbing me and tying me to the target post.

I struggled desperately, crying and begging for mercy, saying my fractured ribs hadn't healed and pleading with her not to tie it so tight.

But Vera, in her frenzy, wouldn't listen at all.

"When you were injured before, Brady brought you nutritious meals despite his injured hand. How did you treat him?"

I was stunned. Back then, Brady had pushed me down and broken my ribs, but he accused me of being a male seducer trying to frame him.

If he wasn't darling's comrade who had been through life and death together, I wouldn't have seen him again at all.

Vera's arm veins bulged as she gripped my shoulders tightly, her tone vicious.

"If he fails the assessment, he'll be sent to northern Myanmar. Please be kind - if he goes, you won't have it easy either!"I laughed, but he hadn't left. If I felt this bad with him here, I couldn't imagine how I'd feel if he were gone.

Just as I was about to say something more, a searing pain shot through me.

Vera had used a red-hot iron to weld me to the post.

"It hurts so much, darling, please don't do this! I promise I'll stand still!"

I screamed and begged, tears streaming down my face. There were several moments when I thought the pain would kill me.

"Brady burned his hand while cooking for you. You need to feel pain to truly understand his feelings."

Being burned while cooking couldn't compare to being branded with red-hot iron.

Besides, why did his cooking taste like cheap microwave meals?

Vera's actions were no different from nailing me to the spot.

Drenched in sweat from the pain, I said in a disappointed tone, "Vera, let's get a divorce."

Vera looked at me intently: "Zephyr, think about your sister. She's still in solitary confinement under my orders!"

I froze, as if struck by lightning. How could she threaten me with my only family member?

Seeing that I had stopped resisting, Vera was satisfied.

She turned around and gently coaxed Brady.