One Percent Too Late

In the twenty years I was bound to my host, this was the nine hundred and ninety-ninth time I had watched him argue with Vivian Hale.

The meal he had carefully prepared was smashed all over the floor.

His eyes were red as he nearly shouted at her.

"Why do you choose him every single time? You divorced him, remember? I am your husband!"

Vivian remained calm, as if she had known all along that my host would make a scene.

"So what if we divorced? I have a child with him. I cannot just ignore him."

That one careless sentence left my host sitting frozen in place for a long, long time.

Long enough for the sky outside to go completely dark.

There had been countless moments like this before, but he had always gritted his teeth and held on.

I thought this time would be no different.

Until my host suddenly asked me,

"What happens if I abandon the mission?"

For a moment, I thought I had misheard him. Instinctively, I looked at the system screen beside me.

Still, when Simon Mercer asked, I gave him the answer.

"If you choose to abandon the mission on your own, you will be erased. Your soul will turn into data and disappear completely."

Simon was silent for a long time, his eyes fixed on the wreckage across the floor.

"Submit the request for me. I am done."

I was speechless, but I still tried to persuade him.

"Vivian Hale's affection score is already at ninety-nine. You are only one percent away from success.

"Even if her affection is only at ninety-nine, she still loves you..."

Simon took out a cigarette and lit it. Smoke blurred the expression on his face.

His voice was hoarse.

"I have spent ten whole years trying to cross that final one percent."

I had no answer.

In the twenty years I had been bound to him, I had seen everything.

At first, he had only been chasing mission progress. In the end, step by step, he had fallen in.

He loved her beyond saving.

I was about to say something else when there was movement at the entryway.

Vivian had come home.

She waved away the heavy smoke.

Her gaze landed on the shattered plates on the floor before finally moving to Simon, who was still smoking.

Vivian frowned, impatience in her voice.

"Didn't you quit smoking ten years ago? Why are you smoking again? You know I hate the smell.

"You broke those things. Clean them up yourself."

She said it casually, then stepped around the broken pieces and went into the bedroom.

When she came out, she was holding a bank card and dragging a suitcase.

Every time she took that bank card before, it had always been to withdraw money for her ex-husband and son.

Whenever Simon saw it, he would fight with her.

But this time, Simon's face showed no expression at all. He did not even say a word.

Vivian