I kill my tyrant husband

The pungent smell of instant noodles mingled with the musty odor of the cramped rental room.

Anna curled up on the rickety single bed, her mother's dry cough echoing from the next room, felt like a knife twisting in her heart. Beneath the wobbly study table was her younger brother's thin frame, hunched over his books, frighteningly silent. Their father had passed away three years ago, and the burden of daily life had fallen heavily onto the slender shoulders of her mother and herself. Her mother was frail, and the cost of medicine grew day by day.

Anna, a university graduate with good grades, was still unemployed, only able to work part-time at a convenience store from the afternoon until late evening, her meager salary barely making a dent. Her brother, once lively, was now suffering from adolescent depression, locking himself away in his world.

Anna gazed at the stained ceiling, a tidal wave of helplessness washing over her. The future was as bleak as a moonless night, without a single ray of hope. Every effort felt futile. She was utterly exhausted. Tired of the crushing poverty, of burdens she couldn't possibly carry, of the pain of loss, and of the profound loneliness.

Her eyes landed on the remaining blister pack of sleeping pills on the table. They were her mother's, used for insomnia, but now they seemed to be the only escape in Anna's mind. Without a moment's hesitation, not a single tear fell. Anna reached for a glass of cool water, emptied the pills into her palm, and brought them to her mouth. A bitter taste spread as she swallowed, and she felt her body grow heavy. Her eyelids drooped, the world spun, and then sank into darkness.

She thought, This is the end. The end to the miserable days.

But death didn't come. Instead, a violent dizziness. Anna startled awake, her head swimming. Around her was not her squalid rental room, but an overwhelmingly opulent space. A soaring ceiling held a dazzling crystal chandelier, the cold marble floor reflected the light, exquisitely carved furniture filled the room – everything exuded unbelievable wealth.

She was lying on a massive bed with soft silk sheets. On her body was a pristine white wedding dress, gorgeous but heavy and unfamiliar. Her mind went blank for a moment, then fragments of memories that weren't hers flooded in. Clara. Jonathan Goldsmiths. Debt marriage. The Goldsmiths family...

"Chaos"? Wasn't that the name of the novel she had casually scrolled past online not long ago? A story with a wealthy family motif, layers of intrigue, but she had only read the first few chapters, finding it quite gloomy.

Had she transmigrated? Into that very novel, into the role of Clara, the girl married into the Goldsmiths family to pay off a debt?

A transparent screen abruptly appeared before her eyes, glowing faintly in the dimness.

[Welcome, Player, to the world of "Chaos".]

[Survival Game System (Beta) Activated.]

[Main Quest: Assassinate Jonathan Goldsmiths.]

[Reward upon Quest Completion: Safe return to the real world + 100,000,000,000 USD.]

[Time Limit: Undetermined. The quest will end when the target is eliminated or the Player dies.]

[Good luck, Player!]

Clara (formerly Anna) froze stiff. System? Quest? Assassinate Jonathan Goldsmiths? That name was the male lead in "Chaos," the magnate of an arms empire, a man renowned for being utterly cold-blooded and ruthless. And she had to kill him to get home? Along with a massive sum of money?

The system offered no further explanation about the plot, about the fate of the original Clara, or about what kind of person Jonathan Goldsmith was. It merely presented the mission and the reward, stark and brutal.

100 billion USD. A sum enough to provide for her mother and brother for the rest of their lives, enough to wipe away every burden. It was too tempting. More than enough to risk everything.

Clara stepped off the bed, the cumbersome wedding dress making it difficult to move. The bridal chamber was cold and deserted. Jonathan Goldsmith wasn't there. On her wedding night, her husband was absent. This only added to the strangeness and creepiness of the Goldsmiths' mansion.

She began to explore. This room was larger than her entire rental apartment in the real world. Connected to it was a spacious dressing room like a high-end fashion boutique, and a marble bathroom with a giant Jacuzzi tub. Everything was luxurious in the extreme, yet devoid of the warmth of life.

Clara opened the room door. The long corridor stretched ahead, carpeted in thick red. A dim yellow light cast down, making the space even gloomier. The mansion was immense. She walked past closed rooms, ancient paintings with eyes that seemed to follow her, and expensive ceramic vases placed on pedestals. Every step echoed, creating a feeling of being utterly alone and watched.

The house was beautiful, but it held a cold, eerie aura, like a gilded tomb. Not a sound, not a soul. Only a terrifying stillness and dark corners seemingly hide countless secrets.

She was the new bride of the Goldsmiths family, yet felt lost, like an intruder. This mansion wasn't a home; it was a dangerous maze. And at the end of this maze was the husband she had to kill.

Clara clenched her fists. She didn't know what kind of person Jonathan Goldsmiths was, or if he deserved to die. But she knew how pathetic her old life had been. For her mother, for her brother, she had to do it.

Taking a deep breath, she continued walking through the silent night of the Goldsmiths' mansion, beginning her perilous journey of survival in the world of "Chaos."