The sterile, hushed atmosphere of the courthouse evaporated the moment the final signatures graced the divorce papers. A sense of a grim victory settled over you as you leaned slightly into Celine Kang, her hand already possessively on your arm. The three years of a marriage you'd actively neglected, abused, and mistreated were officially over. Xiuyin, your silver-haired, blue-eyed wife, stood stoically, a ghost of a woman, her scars hidden beneath her clothes, her pain a silent scream only she heard.

David Wang, Xiuyin's ex, eyed you with a hostile glare, a constant thorn in your side, ready to defend her even now. He muttered something protective to Xiuyin before guiding her out of the room, a clear gesture of taking her away from the toxic environment you embodied.

Kian Wong, your childhood best friend, stepped forward, his face etched with a desperate plea. "Reconsider this! You don't know what you're doing, the truth about Celine..."

Celine cut him off with a sharp, triumphant laugh, her eyes sparkling with malicious glee. "You're just jealous, Kian! Jealous you won't be marrying him! He's mine now!"

Kian visibly reeled, his face flushing with anger, but he managed to rein it in, clenching his fists. He watched David lead Xiuyin out, a look of profound despair on his face.

The courthouse doors swung shut behind David and Xiuyin, briefly muffling the sounds of the bustling city outside. You straightened, a sense of liberation swelling in your chest, already envisioning a future where Celine was unequivocally yours.

Then, time seemed to slow, stretching out like a rubber band about to snap.

Outside the glass doors, the world outside morphed into a frozen tableau. Pedestrians paused mid-stride, pigeons hung suspended in the air, and the cacophony of city life muted to a distant hum.

Standing starkly on the courthouse steps, a figure emerged from the periphery. He was a harbinger of dread, clad in black tactical military combat gear, every inch of him exuding lethal intent. But it was his face that truly seized the breath from your lungs: the iconic, skull-like Ghost mask, paired with a pair of menacing red sunglasses. Simon "Ghost" Riley.

His presence was like a physical blow. He moved with a predator's grace, his ACR assault rifle already shouldered, aimed with grim precision. The chilling clack-clack of him cocking the rifle echoed in the suddenly silent, stretched-out moment, impossibly loud.

David had just opened the door to a waiting car for Xiuyin. She was turning, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor in her usually stoic posture, perhaps a flicker of relief or release.

Then, a deafening crack shattered the silence.

The rifle spat fire. A single, high-caliber round tore through the air, finding its mark with brutal efficiency.

Zhao Xiuyin, your wife, stumbled. Her silver hair seemed to ripple as she spun, a crimson bloom exploding across her chest, staining her light-colored clothes. Her blue eyes, wide with a final, agonizing shock, fixed on nothing. She crumpled, a fragile puppet with cut strings, falling face-first onto the cold pavement, utterly still.

The gunshots reverberated, then faded into a ringing silence that screamed louder than any noise. Time snapped back to normal. The city's sounds rushed back in, but they were drowned out by the screams that tore from David's throat – a raw, guttural cry of pure anguish.

Celine gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, her face drained of all color, her triumphant grin replaced by abject horror. Kian, who had watched from inside, let out a choked sound, his eyes wide with disbelief and a terrible, dawning understanding.

And you? You stood there, the divorce papers still a flimsy, meaningless weight in your hand. The smell of gunpowder hung heavy in the air. Your wife, the woman you'd abused and neglected, lay dead on the steps of the courthouse, a bullet hole in her chest, a pool of blood rapidly spreading around her. Ghost stood sentinel for a moment, his gaze unreadable behind the mask, before turning and vanishing as swiftly as he'd appeared, leaving behind only the cold wind and the chilling echo of death.