I transmigrated and got a husband and a son!
Chapter 772: Just who and what should I be?

Chapter 772: Just who and what should I be?

"Dragon is Dragon for a reason. He’ll burn you the same way he burned all your people alive."

Heaven’s words played in Primo’s mind like a broken record. After expressing a barrage of sentiments, Primo processed the information while satiating his hunger with days’ worth of food. She subtly suggested that he give up his life, promising him a fleeting taste of freedom outside prison.

"Damn." Primo sat on the lower bunk, his back against the grimy wall, legs crossed. "Haha."

Shaking his head, he pondered Heaven’s proposition. Simply put, she was asking him to sacrifice himself for her sake. Although he would be out of prison, the duration of his freedom remained uncertain if he were to directly provoke Dragon.

"What?" Silas, in the midst of his activity, spoke from the toilet of their cell. He had been observing Primo since the latter returned from the visitation lounge, unable to discern whether the visit was positive or negative. "Don’t tell me there’s a change in your sentence, and you’re now on death row?"

"Yes."

"Oh?" Silas raised his brows as he nodded. "That’s sad."

Primo turned his head toward the open toilet, only to see the lack of sympathy on Silas’s face. "Not legally."

"Huh?" Deep lines appeared between Silas as he pondered about it. "What do you mean not legally?"

"I was given a chance to get out of here."

"What?!" Silas nearly jumped, then remembered his current situation. "How is that possible? Are you dreaming? There’s no way Dominic will let you out."

"Heaven Liu came to see me and told me she would restore my freedom." Primo tilted his head back, closing his eyes. "I didn’t want to accept it initially."

"Heaven?" Silas’s furrowed brows deepened even more as he thought about that woman. Remembering that time on the rooftop, he couldn’t underestimate her anymore. After all, one of his biggest failures was that he underestimated Heaven.

"Why would she want you out of here?" he asked, curious. "Also, why are you hesitating?"

"Because the conditions aren’t really tempting, but now I’m reconsidering." Primo glanced at Silas with one eye. "I’d rather shorten my lifespan and regain freedom than prolong it here and engage in conversations with my cellmate while he’s taking a dump."

Primo closed his eyes as his body collapsed to the side, exhaling as he acclimated to the assaulting smell. With no other option, he remained there, reflecting on his choices.

"Damn..." he murmured, laying on his side, eyes on a book nearby. He picked it up lazily, staring at the cover that read, "Holy Bible."

As his thoughts drifted to the double-edged, handleless sword Heaven offered to him, he pondered its symbolic significance. Picking it up would injure him, and wielding it would hurt him just as much, yet not doing so guaranteed a pathetic end.

"Just... what is my purpose, God?" he wondered aloud, earning a brow raised from Silas, who was eavesdropping. "Just who and what should I be?"

His partially closed eyes focused on the book cover. Slowly, he shut them, dropping the book to his side, allowing his mind to wander into the past.

****

[FLASHBACK]

"Ah, shit." Primo stood before the worn-out apartment building, gazing up at it with a sigh. "I shouldn’t have run my mouth."

He clicked his tongue, heading toward the entrance. His slightly oversized, faded suit hinted at financial struggles.

Despite graduating as a top-class lawyer, Primo’s life had not improved much in the year since joining the firm. The only luxury he possessed was his license. Other than that, life was a continuous struggle with all the skyrocketing prices but stagnating income.

Standing at his apartment door, another sigh escaped him. Taking a deep breath, he forced a smile, knocking and announcing, "I’m home!"

The faces inside the apartment brightened up at his announcement. A five-year-old boy leaped from the couch, arms wide, welcoming Primo with a sweet, "Big Brother~!"

"Martin." Primo chuckled, bending down to embrace his younger brother. He carried the little boy, wiping a crumb from the boy’s cheek using his thumb. "Goodness. I told you to wipe your face after eating biscuits."

"Big Brother, look at my hand!" the boy eagerly showed a star mark stamped on the back of his little hand. "My teacher said I’m a good boy!"

"Oh? Were you?" Primo glanced at the star, grinning from ear to ear until his teeth were fully displayed. Pleased, he ruffled the boy’s hair. "That’s my boy!"

Primo’s exhaustion vanished in the warmth of the boy’s excitement. His brows rose when another small figure stood nearby.

"Big brother." A timid ten-year-old girl held a notebook, offering it to him. Primo furrowed his brows, put down his brother carefully, and took the notebook. Upon seeing a drawing, he smiled warmly.

"You did this?" he asked, and the girl nodded. "It’s nice."

His eyes softened with affection and pride, ruffling her head. He praised, "Very good, Alexa."

Blushing, the ten-year-old girl named Alexa, lowered her head, pleased with her big brother’s approval.

"Oh, you’re here?" a young lady’s voice was heard. Primo and the two children turned to see a beautiful lady, still in school uniform with an apron.

"Brother, I cooked dinner. The old lady next door gave us some food in the fridge," the young lady said, almost giggling in excitement. "We’ll have meat tonight."

"Big brother, we’ve been waiting for you. Let’s eat dinner together." The young boy held Primo’s hand, and the girl held his other hand, guiding him to the small dining table for a warm family dinner.

Primo’s earlier years may have been both simple and challenging, yet they were imbued with warmth and kindness. Their home, though modest and weathered, held a charm that transcended its physical limitations. In the midst of leaks during rainy days, it stood as a sanctuary filled with love, where aging walls bore witness to genuine promises and beautiful dreams.

The food on their table was consistently humble, sometimes scarcely enough, but every meal was a feast of gratitude. Oh, how Primo wished those moments could have lasted. Life might have unfolded in a profoundly different manner compared to the path he eventually traversed.