Sequence Beyond: My Wife is a Mysterious Boss

East of the city, entrance to the ring expressway.

The tollbooth cast large shadows under the stark white spotlights.

Two hundred meters from the entrance, in the shadows, Lin Bai was squatting on the ground, his expression as serious as if he were dismantling a nuclear bomb with a three-second countdown.

Actually, he was just tying his shoelaces.

The bow on the left is pulled out precisely 3.5 centimeters.

He stared intently at his right foot, his fingers moving rapidly, tugging, tightening, and fine-tuning.

3.4 cm.

Tsk, no way.

Unravel it, and start over.

3.6 cm.

Or not!

Lin Bai's forehead was covered in a fine layer of cold sweat, and his breathing was rapid.

It wasn't the monster in the distance that scared him, but the 0.1-centimeter error that made him feel like ants were crawling all over his body, so uncomfortable that he wanted to explode on the spot.

"call......"

He took a deep breath and forcibly activated [Poker Face], controlling the muscles in his fingertips to make micron-level corrections.

Get it done.

Both sides are a perfect 3.5 centimeters. Symmetrical, harmonious, it's simply a victory of geometry.

Lin Bai leaned against the wall behind him with a sigh of relief.

That maddening anxiety vanished instantly, replaced by a kind of serene emptiness.

He gritted his teeth in his mind: [Question: Why didn't you say before that becoming a fraudster also comes with a terminal illness like obsessive-compulsive disorder?]

Deep within my consciousness, the yellowed parchment slowly unfolded, and the blood-written words appeared in a perfunctory manner.

It conveyed a sense of disdain, as if to say, "This host is too difficult to manage."

[Driving simulation in progress...]

[Estimated simulation time: 0.001 second]

[Answer: You didn't ask yourself.]

[Note: As a perfectionist con artist, tolerating flaws is tolerating failure. That's called professional ethics, don't you understand?]

[Now, you feel like dying even if your underwear is worn crooked. Doesn't that feel amazing?]

"Fuck you."

Lin Bai cursed under his breath, suppressing the urge to check if the belt buckle was aligned with his navel, and brought his attention back to the matter at hand.

Complaints aside, the real hellish dungeon is yet to come.

He stared at the figures in the distant guard post, and asked himself the same question again:

[Question: To reflect on my current situation, please retrieve all death records related to "escaping the city."]

The parchment trembled slightly, and this time it didn't utter any flirtatious remarks, but directly dropped a string of cold, hard data.

【answer:】

[Current time: 365 days after time travel.]

[Cycle status: 364th reset.]

Upon seeing the number "364 days," Lin Bai's heart skipped a beat.

Goodness, it's already been a full year.

In that vicious cycle that reset at 6 a.m. every morning without fail, I felt like a fly trapped in a glass bottle, banging against the wall for a whole year.

Su Wan, the "virtuous wife" who gently stewed soup for him every day and would stew it for him when she was in a bad mood, also acted in the play with him for a whole year.

If this impasse isn't broken, the number will likely continue to rise until he completely goes insane and becomes one of those monsters.

Or perhaps...

Lin Bai had a feeling that he didn't have many more chances to try.

Resetting doesn't seem to be infinite.

Lin Bai clenched his fists and continued reading.

[Career Record: In previous cycles, you have successfully advanced to "Sequence 9: The Fraudster" 19 times.]

[Death Statistics:]

[In your career as a con artist, there were 11 instances where you became arrogant after acquiring your new abilities, attempting to create bizarre situations in neighborhoods and streets, only to be smashed to pieces. Cause of death: Too reckless.]

[Six times, either you were incredibly unlucky and wandered into other restricted areas, or you stubbornly returned to the central hospital. Cause of death: Deserved.]

You only made it to the tollbooth entrance alive twice.

"Only twice..." Lin Bai narrowed his eyes, seizing the blind spot, "Since you got to the door, why didn't you get out? How did I die?"

[Question: Recap the details of these two deaths. No fluff, get to the point.]

[Driving simulation in progress...]

[Estimated simulation time: 1 second]

[First attempt:]

[You used "scent disguise" to sneak to the window and attempted to pay the toll and leave the city normally.]

The toll collector (identity: Rotten Harvester) asks you for a "special pass to leave the city."

You didn't try to rush through.

[Result: The toll gate turned into a three-meter-long guillotine, slicing you and your vehicle into a sashimi platter. Your head rolled to the toll collector's feet and was instantly crushed.]

Lin Bai touched his neck and felt a phantom pain.

[Second attempt:]

[You've gotten smarter. You prepared a blank sheet of paper beforehand and drew a realistic official seal on it.]

You activate your divine skill, "Cognitive Misleading," pointing to the blank paper and saying, "This is a special pass personally signed by the mayor."

Your lies are logically consistent, your acting is Oscar-worthy, and you even used divine techniques to mislead.

[Result: The toll collector stared at the piece of paper for three seconds, then let out a sharp, explosive sound. The 30 armed guards nearby instantly went berserk.]

You were torn to pieces.

[On your deathbed, you learned a truth from the toll collector's roar—]

There is no such thing as a "city exit permit".

The city is currently under absolute lockdown. Any living being attempting to leave, regardless of whether they have identification, will be killed.

[Note: Pointing to a blank piece of paper and calling it a pass requires that the concept of a "pass" already exists.]

This is like going to a bank to withdraw money, and the teller asks you to show them a Martian ID card. No matter how convincingly you forge it, you're doomed.

Your lies are a joke when faced with the rules.

After reading the last line, Lin Bai fell silent.

The logic is complete.

This is an unsolvable dead end.

The toll collector asking for identification was a pretense; the real purpose was to find a reason to kill him.

The so-called "leaving the city" option is, in terms of the rules, a banned option.

"Oh......"

In the darkness, Lin Bai suddenly chuckled softly.

The laughter was soft, yet it carried a kind of madness born from being driven to the brink of despair.

"Is this your conclusion? Is this the death sentence you've given me?"

Lin Bai stood up, brushed the grass clippings off his trousers, and then nervously pulled the hem of his shirt straight.

Finally, zip the jacket all the way up, precisely locking it in place around the Adam's apple.

The meticulousness brought about by his obsessive-compulsive disorder made him feel calmer than ever before.

"Parchment, you've got one thing wrong."

Lin Bai raised his head, his gaze piercing through the night, staring intently at the brightly lit tollbooth, his eyes flashing with the fervor of a gambler.

"I am a fraudster."

"Absolutely forbidden? Sorry."

"In a con artist's script, there is never the word 'absolute'."

He took a step forward, no longer hiding, no longer sneaking around like a mouse.

He simply swaggered out of the shadows.

The leather shoes made a crisp and rhythmic sound as they stepped on the asphalt road.

"Da, da, da."

Each step is a standard 75 centimeters.

Each step landed precisely in the center of the road's dividing line.

In the distance, the dark figure inside the toll booth seemed to sense something and slowly turned its head.

A cold, damp wind suddenly rose from the ground.

But in Lin Bai's eyes, it was not a sign of death, but a signal that the curtain was being drawn.

Showtime, the show is about to begin.

......