Re:Zero -Starting Life in Zero

……

Inside a church.

Regulus sat on the sofa on the high platform, looking extremely annoyed, his body radiating suppressed rage, his fingers clenched tightly.

"Damn it, damn it!"

He suddenly raised his hand and slammed it against the armrest beside him, his violent roar echoing in the empty church, his tone full of frustration and resentment at being disturbed.

"Damn pretty boy, what despicable old bastards are hiding behind him?"

"He's been dead for so many years, yet he still dares to interfere with my right to exercise my freedom!"

"They even have the audacity to use the power of sloth so shamelessly! They've completely violated Petitchius Romani-Conti's rights!"

Below the platform, his wives, dressed in matching elegant long dresses, stood with their heads bowed, respectfully standing without daring to even breathe.

Everyone was tense, their eyes fixed on the ground beneath their feet. No one dared to look up at the enraged Regulus, and no one dared to make a sound.

They were afraid that the slightest movement would anger this capricious and lustful bishop, making them the outlet for his rage.

The entire church was filled only with Regulus's angry curses and the suppressed breathing of the crowd, a deathly silence that was also oppressive.

Regulus vented for a long time, spitting as he spoke, but his anger showed no signs of abating. Instead, it burned like wildfire, growing ever stronger.

He paused briefly, breathing heavily, his gaze sweeping across the audience.

What came into view was a solemn scene, as still as wood.

The wives, who were usually gentle, timid, or capable, all had their heads bowed, their backs straight but stiff as stone statues, not even a hair trembling.

They stood silently, like a row of soulless puppets, enduring Regulus's roars without offering even the slightest response.

This deathly silence pierced Regulus's nerves more than any accusation.

He suddenly stood up, his tall figure exuding a suffocating sense of oppression.

He strode to the railing, looked down at them, his chest heaving, his voice suddenly rising, filled with extreme anger at being ignored and a hysterical questioning:

"Damn woman!"

"When your husbands are angry, shouldn't you wives immediately come to their side, snuggle up to them, and gently comfort them?!"

"Why aren't you moving?! Why are you standing there like a log?!"

His fingertips dug tightly into his brow, the crimson in his eyes almost overflowing, his tone filled with the brutality and grievance of betrayal, every word dripping with venomous barbs:

"Don't you even understand this basic responsibility?! Are you just going to stand here coldly, violating my rights as a husband and ignoring my feelings?!"

Answer me!

A sharp shout shook the dust off the church dome.

The wives in the audience trembled in unison, but none of them dared to look up.

Regulus clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned pale from the force, and a sickeningly sharp cracking sound emanated from between his fingers. The suppressed rage seemed about to burst forth from his very bones.

He suddenly raised his head, a cold killing intent flashing in his scarlet eyes.

"Well, it's okay if you don't want to move."

His voice was low and hoarse, with a dangerous languor, yet every word was piercing: "As a wife, it's only natural to use your life to quell your husband's anger, isn't it?"

As soon as he finished speaking, he casually stretched out his right hand, and several scattered pebbles below the stage instantly floated into the air.

The rice-grain-sized stone chips spun rapidly in his palm, faster and faster, until they finally transformed into several sharp streaks of light.

That is the power of lust and might—a tiny stone, once endowed with extreme acceleration and destructive force, is as powerful as a cannonball, enough to easily pierce through steel.

The wives in the audience froze, their pupils shrinking. They finally raised their heads, their eyes filled with terror and pleading, but none of them dared to move an inch; their breaths almost stopped.

Regulus's lips curled into a cruel smile, his wrist slightly lowered as he aimed at one of the wives in the front row.

"We've gotten along quite well all along, haven't we? Number 91, goodbye."

He loosened his grip slightly, preparing to hurl the deadly stone.

Just as Regulus was about to loosen his grip and the deadly flying stone was about to burst through the air, the heavy wooden church door was suddenly knocked on.

"Bang bang bang—bang bang bang—"

The rhythmic yet abrupt knocking shattered the deathly silence and tense atmosphere of the church, even causing the pebbles floating in Regulus's palm to pause.

Before anyone could react, a slender, pale hand reached out from outside the door and gently pushed open the heavy wooden door.

Warm light streamed in through the open door, and a slender, elegant figure stepped in slowly. A soft voice rang out, carrying just the right amount of gentleness:

"My dear husband, I'm back."

The newcomer was a girl with long, dazzling golden hair like the sun and deep, clear blue eyes.

With an upright posture and a dignified and gentle demeanor, she walked step by step into the oppressive church.

Regulus, whose eyes were originally bloodshot and filled with rage, suddenly lost all his killing intent and fury the moment he saw who it was.

His eyes suddenly lit up, his tightly clenched lips slowly turned up, and his originally cold eyes instantly became filled with genuine joy.

His superior posture softened considerably, and the pebbles suspended in his palm instantly lost their support and fell to the ground with a rustling sound.

Regulus immediately loosened his grip, his tone shifting from its previous savagery to a deliberate display of marital tenderness and concern, and spoke loudly:

"Oh, number 184, I really didn't expect you to come back!"

He strode back from the high platform railing, his tone full of undisguised surprise, even with a hint of boastful seriousness:

"After I learned that you had been captured and imprisoned by the enemy, I have been thinking of you every single moment."

"After all, as a responsible husband, I have a duty to rescue my trapped wife. I was planning to take care of things now and bring you back myself!"

Seeing this, the wives in the audience all secretly breathed a sigh of relief, their tense bodies softening slightly, and their eyes filled with the relief of surviving a disaster as they looked at number 184.

Sylphy quickly stepped forward, her exquisite skirt swaying gently.

She bowed respectfully, her deep blue eyes lowered, her tone gentle yet carrying a hint of deliberate composure:

"Thank you for your concern, my dear husband."

Before he could finish speaking, Regulus's joy froze instantly.

The next second, he flashed like a golden lightning bolt, instantly closing in on Sylphy.

Before the other person could react, a hand had already gripped her neck tightly and lifted her up easily.

Sylphy's toes left the ground, but her face remained calm, as if what was being strangled was not her life, but an insignificant object.