Chapter 46: My Wife Was a Menace

Reinhard winked at him. "Yes."

The man’s expression shifted into something between amusement and disbelief. "Your the husband of that terrifying monster?"

Reinhard paused. "...What?"

"You don’t know?" The man blinked in surprise. "Don’t you know she was one of the most intimidating young Awakeners!?"

Reinhard blinked. "My wife?"

"Yes. Emily Ashcroft."

He tilted his head and tried to make the words fit.

Terrifying... And Emily?

She was terrifying? He couldn’t see it. The man must be delusional.

The auctioneer noticed his confusion, and his grin widened. "You should know. The Deadly Mouth?"

Reinhard’s eyebrows shot up. "The what?"

The auctioneer stared at him. "You’ve never heard that name?"

"No."

The man slowly shook his head. "Then you have no idea who you married."

Reinhard’s smile came back twice as wide. "Now that sounds interesting."

"It was." The auctioneer gestured at the chair across from him. "Sit down. This is going to take a minute."

Reinhard sat.

"Emily was already famous for her strength," the auctioneer began. "Everyone knew that part. Youngest champion in history, one of the most talented Awakeners of her generation, a Nexus graduate, the strongest prospect in the region."

"That part I knew."

"But she was not," the auctioneer said, "known for being polite."

Reinhard leaned forward. "How bad?"

The auctioneer’s smile turned almost reverent. "Very." He pulled out his phone. "Let me show you."

A video began to play.

A younger Emily stood in the middle of an arena, with the same long silver hair, the same silver eyes, and the same calm face, but something about her was different, something Reinhard had never once seen, and it took him a moment to name it. Confidence.

Not the quiet, careful confidence he had watched her slowly rebuild over the past weeks. This Emily stood in that arena like she owned it, like she had bought it that morning and was already thinking about redecorating.

Her opponent stood several meters away with a group of spectators cheering behind him. He was older, bigger, and clearly stronger on paper, and he smiled at her the way adults smile at children who have wandered into the wrong room. "You’re very talented for someone your age."

Young Emily looked at him. "Thank you."

"However," the man went on, "talent alone isn’t enough. You should understand that there are levels to this world."

Emily tilted her head slightly. "Are you finished?"

The man’s smile faltered. "I’m trying to teach you something."

"No." Emily raised one hand, and mana began to gather around it. "I think you’re trying to make yourself feel important."

The auctioneer paused the video, and Reinhard stared at the frozen screen before slowly looking up. "She said that?"

"Yes."

"Before the fight?"

"Yes."

Reinhard’s smile widened considerably.

The auctioneer pressed play. The fight lasted less than a minute. Emily tore through the man’s Mana Shield like wet paper, knocked the weapon out of his hands, and sent him skidding across the arena floor on his back, and the crowd lost its mind.

Emily walked over and looked down at him, and he glared up at her, furious. "You..."

"You spent five minutes explaining how much better than me you were," Emily said, and a small, polite smile appeared on her face. "And then you lasted forty-three seconds."

The video ended, and Reinhard stared at the black screen in complete silence. Then he laughed, so suddenly that he had to put a hand over his face.

"That’s one of the famous ones," the auctioneer said.

"Forty-three seconds?"

"She remembered the exact time."

"That makes it so much worse."

"It gets worse."

Reinhard’s eyes lit up like a child’s at a festival. "There’s more?"

The auctioneer opened another video. This time, a younger Emily stood in front of a crowd of reporters as a journalist asked her about an opponent who had publicly complained that she’d been disrespectful to him during their match. Emily looked completely, serenely unbothered. "What did I say?"

The reporter hesitated. "You called him talentless."

Emily thought about it for a moment. "Oh." She nodded. "I was being polite."

Reinhard covered his mouth with both hands, and the auctioneer was already laughing. "That’s why they called her the Deadly Mouth."

Reinhard looked at the screen, and a memory surfaced of a quiet evening in the apartment, weeks ago, sitting beside Lily on the couch while she held a folded newspaper and wiped her eyes.

She took care of everyone. Sis would already have dinner waiting. She’d wait by the door for us, no matter how busy she was.

Lily had cried telling him that. It had been a beautiful, heartfelt memory, and she had apparently left out the part where her sister ended careers on live broadcasts.

Reinhard bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and pictured Lily’s version with the missing parts added back in. She’d wait by the door for us with dinner, after telling a grown man on national television that he lasted forty-three seconds.

A sound escaped him that was halfway between a laugh and a cough.

The auctioneer looked at him. "Are you all right?"

"I’m fine," Reinhard said, his hand still pressed over his mouth. "My sister-in-law gave me a very... selective description of my wife."

Another video appeared. A wealthy-looking Awakener in an expensive suit was talking to Emily in a hallway after a competition. "I’ve already secured a private training facility for myself," he said. "You should consider joining me. People at our level shouldn’t waste time with ordinary Awakeners."

Emily looked at him, then let her eyes drift past him to the gleaming, obviously custom equipment on the cart behind him. "Your equipment is impressive."

The man smiled. "I knew you’d understand."

"I didn’t say you were."

His smile fell off his face, and Emily kept walking without ever breaking stride.

Reinhard laughed again, loudly this time. "That’s brutal." He thought about the Emily at home, who apologized when someone else bumped into her wheelchair. That same Emily had once walked past a man in a hallway and dismantled his entire personality in six words without stopping.

"She hated people who acted superior," the auctioneer said, leaning back. "Rank, family name, money, equipment. None of it impressed her."

"What did?"

"Strength," the auctioneer said with a smile. "And effort."

Reinhard’s laughter faded a little. That part sounded like the Emily he knew.

"She especially hated people who used their status to look down on younger or weaker Awakeners." The auctioneer opened one more video.

Emily stood beside a group of nervous young students in worn, secondhand training gear, while a wealthy Awakener sneered at them for their outdated equipment. She listened to him quietly, then turned to face him. "You have better equipment."

The man smiled. "Yes."

"You have a stronger family behind you."

"Yes."

"You have more resources."

"Exactly."

Emily nodded slowly, as though she were considering all of it very seriously. "Then why are you still losing?"

The man went rigid, and the students behind her turned away, shaking with silent laughter.

Reinhard stared at the screen, then slowly leaned back in his chair. That’s my wife?

He thought about Emily at home in her wheelchair, her cheeks pink as she looked away and muttered "Idiot" under her breath like it was the most daring insult in the world.

He thought about her carefully telling a little girl at the park that he didn’t work hard at being pretty.

Reinhard had been so proud of those little jabs, like watching someone take their first steps. She hadn’t been learning how to insult people. She had been remembering.

The auctioneer was watching him with open amusement. "You’re enjoying this."

"I’m learning."

"About your wife?"

"Apparently, about a completely different woman who happens to be my wife."

The auctioneer laughed. "There were entire compilation videos of her."

"Compilations?"

"Emily Ashcroft’s Greatest Humiliations."

Reinhard’s eyes went wide. "You’re serious."

"Completely."

"People actually made those?"

"Students used to watch them before competitions to get motivated."

Reinhard laughed until his shoulders shook. "My wife had fans."

"She had a great many fans," the auctioneer said, scrolling on. "Some of them even copied her lines. For a while, ’Are you finished?’ was the most feared sentence in youth competitions."

"She had a nickname," Reinhard said slowly, as it dawned on him. "A cool one. The Deadly Mouth." He put a hand over his heart. "I’ve been in this city for one day, and people call me the Mirror guy."

The auctioneer didn’t even try to hide his grin.

Reinhard shook his head. "We would have been the most insufferable couple in the entire country," he said, and there was something almost wistful in it. "I would have loved it."

The auctioneer’s smile softened a little, and his voice turned more serious. "She was popular, but not only because she was entertaining. Companies fought over her."

Reinhard looked up. "Companies?"

"Weapon manufacturers, medical corporations, equipment makers, training organizations, resource suppliers, even luxury brands." He shook his head. "Everyone wanted Emily Ashcroft’s name attached to theirs."

"Did she accept many?"

"Some. But she had one unusual condition." The auctioneer paused. "She wanted sponsors who helped people."

Reinhard’s expression changed. The auctioneer explained that Emily had always chosen sponsorships that supported newly awakened Awakeners, and Reinhard sat with that for a moment. The Deadly Mouth, who had told a rich man he was losing in front of his whole family, had quietly been paying for the equipment of the kids that man had sneered at. He looked down, and the woman waiting for him at home suddenly felt a little farther away.

The auctioneer watched him before going on. "And that wasn’t even her greatest asset."

Reinhard looked up. "What was?"

"Connections," the auctioneer said with a smile. "Emily trained alongside the strongest teams of her generation. Some of the Awakeners now considered among the best in the region trained directly under her, and others entered the professional world on her recommendation. Have you heard of the Silver Fang?"

"I’ve heard of them."

"Their current captain trained under Emily."

Reinhard’s expression shifted.

"And the Dawn Vanguard?"

"Some."

"Two of their core members." The auctioneer smiled faintly. "And there were others."

Reinhard sat in silence. He had known she was strong. He hadn’t realized how many people had become strong because of her.

"She wasn’t just talented," the auctioneer said. "People trusted her judgment."

Reinhard thought about that for a long time.

The Emily he knew barely trusted herself to pick out curtains, and yet once, people had trusted her enough to build entire careers on her advice. He wanted her to understand that. She had lost something enormous.

But she hadn’t lost everything.