The Belittled Husband Now A Trillionaira Boss.

Chapter 4

Ethan stood frozen on the side of the road, staring at the glowing red screen in front of him. His soaked clothes clung to his body, water still dripping from his hair onto the pavement. His heart pounded in his chest.

[WARNING.]

[HOST MUST SAVE HER.]

At that moment the timer continued counting down.

[20]

[19]

[18]

Ethan's breath caught. His eyes widened.

“What?” he whispered. “Save her? What are you talking about?”

[HOST MUST SAVE HER OR FACE PUNISHMENT.]

[17]

[16]

[15]

His gaze snapped to the crowd ahead. The woman on the ground. The blood pooling beneath her. The two women kneeling beside her, frantic and desperate.

But how do I even know what's wrong with her?

The thought hit him, and then his vision changed.

It happened so suddenly that Ethan actually staggered back a step. One second, everything looked normal. The next, it was like someone had sharpened the entire world. Colors became more vivid. Details jumped out at him. He could see things he shouldn't be able to see from this distance.

The woman on the ground. Her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. The way her skin had gone pale, almost gray. The dark stain spreading across her blouse. And the wound itself—small, circular, just below her left ribcage.

A gunshot wound he confirmed again 

The information slammed into his mind like a freight train. He didn't examine her. He didn't get close. He just knew. Like his brain had scanned her body and delivered a full diagnosis without him asking for it.

The bullet had entered at an angle. It had missed the major organs—barely but it was lodged inside. She was bleeding internally. Fast. Too fast.

Three minutes.

The thought materialized in his head, clear and sharp. If no one intervened in the next three minutes, she was dead.

The countdown on the system screen wasn't random. It was exact. It was how much time she had left.

[14]

[13]

[12]

Ethan's hands clenched into fists. His jaw tightened.

No. I don't have time for this. Emma's waiting for me. I promised her.

But even as he thought it, something deeper stirred inside him. Something that wasn't just the system's command. It was instinct. Reflex. A voice in the back of his mind whispering, "You have to help her."

He took a step forward. Then another. His legs moved on their own.

The two women were frantic now. One of them dressed in a sharp business suit, her hair pulled back tightly—was on her phone, her voice shaking as she spoke to someone on the other end. The other woman, younger, with softer features and a pale blue dress now stained with blood, had her hands pressed against the wound.

“Please,” the younger woman called out, her voice breaking. “Is there a doctor here? Anyone? Please, somebody help her!”

A few people in the crowd glanced over, but no one moved. They just stood there, watching. Uncomfortable. Unwilling to get involved.

Ethan pushed through the circle of onlookers. The two women looked up at him, their eyes wide and desperate.

He stopped a few feet away and looked down at the injured woman. His eyes scanned her quickly, taking in everything.

[TIME REMAINING: 2 MINUTES 47 SECONDS.]

"She doesn't have much time," Ethan said, his voice calm but urgent.

Both women stared at him.

“What?” the younger woman—Grace asked, her voice trembling.

“She's been shot,” Ethan said. “The bullet missed the vital organs, but she's lost too much blood. She has less than three minutes left if we don't do something now.”

The words hung in the air.

For a moment, both women just stared at him in shock.

Then Victoria's face twisted with suspicion and anger. “What did you just say?”

“She's been shot,” Ethan repeated. “The wound is just below her left ribcage. The bullet is still lodged inside. She's bleeding internally.”

Victoria's eyes narrowed. She took a step back, her phone still clutched in her hand.

“How do you know that?” she asked, her voice sharp. “Nobody here knows that. It didn't even happen here. We got out of the car because of the traffic and kept it quiet so people wouldn't panic.”

Grace looked up at Ethan, her hands still pressed against the wound, her eyes wide with confusion and fear.

“You didn't even touch her,” she said. “You didn't examine her. How do you know she was shot?”

Ethan opened his mouth to respond, but Victoria cut him off.

“He knows because he's one of them,” she said, her voice rising. “He's one of the people who shot her. That's how he knows. Security!”

Two security guards who had been standing nearby immediately stepped forward. They moved quickly, their hands reaching for Ethan's arms.

“Wait—” Ethan started.

“Get him away from her,” Victoria ordered. “Now.”

The guards grabbed Ethan's shoulders, their grips firm and unyielding. They started to pull him back.

“Listen to me,” Ethan said, his voice steady despite the guards yanking him away. “It'll take an ambulance at least fifteen minutes to get through that traffic outside. By then, she'll be dead. She has less than two minutes left.”

Victoria's jaw clenched. “I don't believe you. You could be anyone. You could be one of the people who did this to her.”

“I'm not,” Ethan said. “But if you don't let me help her right now, she's going to die.”

“We'll get her to a hospital ourselves,” Victoria snapped. “We don't need your help.”

The guards tightened their grip, starting to drag Ethan further away.

And then a voice broke through the tension.

Weak. Trembling. Barely above a whisper.

“I… I think…”

Immediately everyone froze.

The injured woman's eyes had fluttered open. Her lips were pale, her breathing shallow and labored. She looked up at Victoria, then at Grace, then at Ethan.

Her hand moved slightly, trembling as it lifted from her side.

“I think… he's right,” she whispered, her voice shaking with effort. “I can feel it. My spirit… it's fading from my body. Everything's… getting colder. Getting darker.”

Her eyes locked on Ethan's, wide and desperate.

“Just… just let him try.”