The Slag Gong Wants to Kill Me

Chapter 22

It seemed that the childhood sweetheart was surprised by my blunt words, he tried to threaten me, “I’ll call the police! It was you… you killed him!”

“En. That’s good.” I spoke. “But first… you need to go out.”

He was stunned. He looked like he lost all the strength to walk and he could only crawl on the floor. I saw him tug at the door knob but the door didn’t open.

All the rooms in our house cannot be locked from the inside, however, they can be locked from the outside with a key. I know this but the childhood sweetheart was probably unaware of it. I watched him desperately fiddle with the door knob, so much that he even started kicking it in the end.

I think I have confirmed that the childhood sweetheart isn’t only noisy but also quite stupid.

I genially reminded him, “Perhaps my husband has a key in his pocket.”

It was an immediate reaction. He crawled over to search my husband’s pockets. He looked afraid of the corpse based on how his hand shook as he tried to get the key.

Of course, even if he finally got the key, he couldn’t open the door.

I heard him drop the key on the ground. The childhood sweetheart crawled on the ground and climbed over the window. His eyes ferociously glared at me as he said, “Open the door! You murderer!”

He was really stupid. I let out a soft chuckle, “Do you think that I won’t kill you?”

The childhood sweetheart’s body shook. At that moment I noticed a wet patch on the floor from where he was at. He was scared into wetting himself.

I then opened a window and threw a knife inside.

The childhood sweetheart immediately went to reach out and grab me as soon as I opened the window but I evaded it.

“That’s a very sharp knife.” I explained, “It can cut apart a person’s flesh and their arteries.”

“What…What are you up to?” He asked trembling.

“I can call the police in seven days but it might take them a month before they find you.” I stated “During that time, if you don’t want to die, then use that knife to cut off food for yourself.”

“But aren’t you two really in love? Using it to kill yourself with my husband in the name of love is also pretty good.”

“Lunatic! Murderer!” The childhood sweetheart screamed. He clawed on the window and shouted, “Let me out!”

“I think this is some first aid knowledge you must know. If you find yourself in the wild without water, you can drink blood or urine.” I told him. Although I knew it was useless to talk nonsense into him right now, this was probably because of my twisted sense of pleasure.

I then waved goodbye to the childhood sweetheart and left. At the last moment, I took a quick glimpse and saw his figure slowly scrambling to get the knife.

I had an idea of what he would choose.