The Protagonists Are Murdered by Me - Chapter 173: Things Protagonist has to do (3)

Qiao Nan: Crap! I am your biological daughter, yet I am treated as if I was picked up from the streets. In fact, you treat me worse than that!

Mother Qiao: Qiao Nan, you are not as pretty or smart as your elder sister. You are not as blessed as her. You have no right to study, marry, or to have your happiness!

Qiao Nan: Why am I not allowed to study, marry, or to seek my happiness? I will find a man right now and marry him!

Qiao Nan is dumbstruck upon discovering that the man right beside her is a powerful figure in the quad—the person who has the most promising prospects to be the future Chief.

Qiao Nan stares at the well-built man in front of her. He has firm abs and cold, chilling eyes. She swallows the lump in her throat as she says her greetings, “Good Morning, Chief!”

The future of the world and the direction of time possess infinite possibilities. Even the same event may lead to two completely opposite outcomes due to a millisecond deviation in completion time.

I have led the Evolutionary Deluge, causing species worldwide to evolve and creating a splendid era of warriors. I have also allowed the invasion of evil gods, bringing those indescribable ancient dominators to the mortal world, instantly corrupting the Earth with evil beings.

In the infinite space-time, there are a million possibilities. I have witnessed the divinization of machinery and have seen the revival of myths. Humans call me: The Creator of Everything, The Eternal Supreme God, The Cause of All Results, The Origin of Everything.

But.. I prefer to call myself a humble observer.

Molitia Clemence was born sickly.

She forgot to cover herself with a blanket and caught a cold. She woke up next to her husband after 10 days just because of a slight cold.

Molitia barely survived between the thin threads of life and death. When she opened her eyes, she noticed that her husband was somehow acting differently than usual…?!

***

“Have you eaten?” (Husband)

“Yes.” (Molitia)

“This is the belly of a person who ate?” (Husband)

He frowned as he stroked her flat lower abdomen. He held her wrist carefully, as if it would break. His voice rose.

“Why is your wrist so thin? Are you even human?” (Husband)

“That’s…” (Molitia)

“Butler!” (Husband)

The butler rushed to his angry voice, fidgeting with his wrists.

“Get me food for my wife to eat. Something that will help her stay healthy. Anything is fine.” (Husband)

Molitia’s mouth opened at her husband’s words, but no sound came out. ‘I just had a meal?’