They departed on bad terms, as Aeris remained unwilling to drop the charges.
He left both the recording and the CCTV footage of the fight with the officers. Thankfully, he had installed a security camera the very next day after arriving in this world.
Afterward, he went straight to the hospital. In truth, the only reason he had remained standing throughout the interrogation was by sheer willpower.
His face was bruised and swollen, and the flesh beneath his shirt fared no better. A sharp pain burned along his right wrist, and his knuckles were torn and pulled, raw red skin peeking through.
The taxi driver kept glancing at him warily through the rear-view mirror. Aeris suspected that if the man hadn't watched him walk out of the police station, he would've already called the authorities.
On any other day, Aeris might have eased the misunderstanding, but the pain made him irritable and unwilling to speak, so he simply shut his eyes and rested.
The hospital results were clear: two bruised ribs, a sprained wrist, heavy bruising across his back and shoulder, and several other minor injuries.
Following the doctor's advice, he stayed in the hospital for two days and was discharged on the third. No one came to visit.
To the hospital staff, his ward looked unbearably quiet and lonely.
Aeris could practically hear their whispers outside his room, occasionally stealing a sympathetic glance his way.
But he was thick-skinned enough, and his self-confidence remained unshakable. Still, he couldn't help sighing at how unpopular the original owner of this body must have been. Forget his father—there wasn't a single former colleague or even a neighbor who bothered to stop by.
He truly had been a pitiful child.
At Mira's house, chaos had erupted.
Mira stood in the corner of the living room, wishing the ground would swallow her whole. Her once fair, pretty face was swollen and miserable, with a bloody nose and crimson at the corner of her pale lips.
The mother of the three brothers had long abandoned any concern for dignity or reputation. She hurled curses at Mira's family with every vicious word she could summon.
Mira's uncle didn't speak, but he stood firmly beside his wife, his silence a clear sign of support.
Relatives who had once been close now glared at them like sworn enemies.
Beneath Mira's lowered lashes, her eyes burned with a mix of hatred and humiliation.
She hated her parents for refusing to listen to her and barging into Aeris's home. She hated her uncle's family for discarding years of affection the moment things turned sour.
Hadn't they always claimed to be her brothers? And what wrong with taking little beating? They'd heal in a month.
Why couldn't they endure a little pain like real men, instead tattling to their parents like helpless children?
And besides, it wasn't as if she told them to fight. They acted on their own. Yet those three grown men couldn't even handle a single person.
Useless. Pathetic.
A bunch of complete losers, Mira thought bitterly, resentment twisting in her chest.
But the person she hated the mos was Aeris.
If he hadn't refused her—she would have continued living as the cherished daughter of her parents. Even her uncle's family had once doted on her, treating her like their own. Now they looked at her family as if they were mortal enemies.
All because of him.
Why did he suddenly change his feelings for her?
Mira clenched her fists, resentment twisting inside her like a nest of serpents.
It was his fault.
If only he had stayed obedient, stayed devoted, stayed hers—none of this would have happened
Thud…
A dull sound echoed across the chaotic living room — the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the floor. The incessant stream of curses was cut off mid-breath.
"Husband!" Mira's mother, Amelia, screamed shrilly as she stumbled forward, dropping to her knees beside the collapsed man. Her trembling hands hovered uselessly before finally gripping his shoulders.
The room, moments ago filled with shouting and venom, froze in stunned silence.
The commotion ended abruptly.
But it was only the beginning.
The once harmonious relatives could never go back to what they used to be. From this moment on, the rift would only grow deeper, festering and widening with every passing day.
Even reconciliation on a deathbed would be impossible.
They had crossed a line that could never be walked back.