Gilbert Pierce, my wife's male trainee, bragged that he could disarm a bomb just by relying on his senses and with his eyes closed.

However, he misjudged it and triggered the bomb's secondary detonation sequence.

I stepped in at the last second and used the most dangerous method available, liquid nitrogen flash cooling, to save the entire building.

Gilbert was pulled off frontline duty and placed on suspension for review.

My wife, Jasmine Clem, tried to speak up for him, but I stopped her cold.

"If you defend him now, you won't save him. You'll just get dragged down and suspended alongside him."

Unable to handle the pressure, Gilbert blew himself up in an accident. In his suicide note, he accused Jasmine of choosing self-preservation when he needed her most.

Jasmine said nothing. She only locked that letter away in her study.

Years later, Jasmine became a nationally renowned bomb disposal expert.

During a terrorist attack, I was captured and strapped with a timed explosive.

Jasmine came to the scene personally to defuse it, but right in front of me, she repeated the exact same mistake her trainee had made years ago.

She watched the countdown and smiled lightly at me. "See? He was just nervous back then. If I had encouraged him, he'd be a hero now."

The bomb detonated, and I was blown apart.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment she was about to defend Gilbert.

She didn't know that inside that building sat the nation's most classified core servers.

I was about to rush to the scene.

The instant I realized I had been reborn, I turned around and went straight back to the dorm. I shut off my encrypted communicator without hesitation.

In my previous life, after Gilbert Pierce messed up, he spammed me nonstop, begging me to save him.

I had just finished a special operation and hadn't slept for three days, yet I still rushed in to clean up his mess.

I risked my life, enduring the burn of liquid nitrogen.

Only then did I manage to save the core servers inside the building.

Because of that, the military didn't send Gilbert to court-martial. He was only suspended and put under investigation.

As long as he didn't screw up again, he could've returned to his original post.

Yet, Gilbert couldn't handle criticism. A few sharp comments from coworkers were enough to drive him to blow himself up in an accident.

In the end, Jasmine tried to prove Gilbert's abilities and got me blown to pieces.

I yanked the blanket over my head and slept straight through to morning.

The next day, I powered my communicator back on. The screen instantly flooded with hundreds of missed calls and blood-red emergency alerts.

I took my time washing up, put on my uniform, and headed to the scene at an unhurried pace.

Outside the perimeter, the air felt so heavy that it was almost tangible. Every face was carved with despair.

Gilbert sat slumped on the ground, a complete wreck, shaking uncontrollably.

The coworkers around him glared at him, as if they wanted to tear him apart alive.

"This is all your fault, Gilbert! You just had to try that eyes-closed nonsense! Look at us now. The secondary detonation is active. None of us is getting out!"

"Just wait! General Webb's going to send every one of us to court-martial!"

Gilbert's eyes darted wildly through the crowd.

The moment he saw me, a spark of hope flared in his eyes, as if he had grabbed onto his last lifeline.

But the very next second, deep resentment seeped into his gaze.

He raised his hand and pointed straight at me, screaming with everything he had.

"It was Edmond's fault! I called him all night long. He could've saved us. He turned off his communicator on purpose. He wanted all of us dead!"

In an instant, countless stares turned into blades, stabbing straight into me.

Gilbert seized the moment and staggered toward me, holding up his communicator. The screen was packed with call logs, glaring and unmistakable.

His eyes were red, his voice hoarse and piercing, every word soaked in anguish.

"You know better than anyone what's stored in that building. It's classified at the highest level. You went offline at a moment like this. What was your goal?"

The area fell silent as everyone waited for my explanation.

I stared at Gilbert's revolting face, hatred from my past life surging up inside me.

Then, I raised my hand.

Smack!

A sharp, ringing slap landed square across his face.

Gilbert was stunned by the hit. He clutched his face and stared at me in disbelief.

I shook out my numb wrist, my voice icy.

"Are you out of your damn mind?"

I raised the mission duty roster and turned the screen toward everyone. The assignments and signatures were clearly displayed.

"You were the primary operator last night! I had been on a special operation for 72 straight hours and was on mandatory rest. My name isn't on this schedule."

The moment I finished speaking, realization rippled through the crowd. All the bottled-up anger finally found a target.

"That's right! Edmond just got back from the Red Scorpion op yesterday. He defused three linked bombs and could barely stay on his feet when he returned."

"Exactly! Gilbert, you've always hidden behind Jasmine. Every high-risk job got pushed onto Edmond. Now you screw up this bad and still try to drag him down with you?"

"You screw things up and look for a human shield. You really haven't changed at all. You make me sick!"

Each accusation hit Gilbert like a stone. The color drained from his face until it was as pale as paper. He finally collapsed to the ground, eyes hollow and unfocused.

Right then, a military SUV screeched to a stop at the edge of the perimeter.

The door flew open. Carl Webb and Jasmine stepped out briskly, both of their faces dark with fury.

I looked at Jasmine. We used to be the most celebrated couple in the unit, the perfect match in everyone's eyes.

But now, her gaze passed right over me without the slightest pause and went straight to Gilbert, crumpled on the ground.

She took off her jacket and carefully wrapped it around him, pulling him tightly into her arms.

"Gil, it's okay. I'm here."

Her voice was so gentle, I almost didn't recognize it.

"I won't let anything happen to you."

In that instant, my heart went cold.

In my last life, she had protected him the same way, telling me, "Gil was just nervous. He's talented. You need to encourage him more."

Now, in front of everyone, she put her favoritism on full display without a hint of restraint.

The coworkers watching grew even more disgusted and furious.

Carl's gaze sliced back and forth between the two of us before he barked my name and ordered me into the command vehicle.

The moment the door shut, the mountain-like calm around him collapsed.

For the first time, the battle-hardened Carl showed real panic.

"Edmond, I don't give a damn about the rules." He slammed his fist onto the map table, rattling the equipment. "You have to save that server. If it goes down, this whole department, starting with me, is dead."

I met his bloodshot eyes and spoke evenly, "I can try."

My voice was quiet, but the vehicle went completely silent.

"But I have conditions."

I pulled a document from my pocket and handed it to him.

It was the approval form Jasmine had personally signed, overriding all objections. The title read, "Approval for Field Deployment of Experimental Defusal Techniques (Operator: Gilbert Pierce)."

The entire document looked painfully ironic now.

"She approved the risk. I'm not cleaning up this mess by myself. I want her to pay the price for this so-called innovation."

Carl's eyes hardened as he snatched the document.

After reading it, he slammed it onto the table with a deafening bang.

"Outrageous!"

His roar nearly shook the room.

"Don't worry. Her expert appointment application is dead. Every one of her promotion tracks is frozen as of today."

I curled my lips into a thin, icy smile.

I picked up the pen and signed my name on the military waiver, accepting full liability and responsibility.

In this lifetime, I would be the one cutting off Jasmine's path to the top.

I pulled on my bomb suit and sprinted into the building.

I had no blueprints, no contingency plan.

However, I had memories from my last life.

I bypassed the faulty wiring Gilbert had set up and ignored the deadly traps blinking red all around me.

I went straight to the core server room.

Liquid nitrogen was injected, and white mist filled the air. The piercing alarms cut off abruptly.

The secondary detonation sequence was successfully frozen.

I took off my helmet. Cold sweat mixed with the lingering fog, blurring my vision. My legs gave out, and I slumped against the wall, barely staying conscious.

When I walked out of the building, cheers erupted outside, the sound of people surviving a disaster.

My coworkers rushed over, hands everywhere as they held me up, voices full of gratitude and lingering fear.

"Edmond! You're a damn miracle!"

"I knew it! As long as Edmond steps in, nothing's impossible."

Invitations to celebration dinners poured in one after another.

I turned every single one down. I just wanted to go home.

The moment I pulled open my car door, a sharp pain struck the back of my neck. A hand clamped over my mouth and yanked me backward.

My struggle was crushed instantly as I was dragged into a dark storage room.

Bang!

The door slammed shut and locked.

I was tied to an ice-cold chair, completely unable to move. Above me, an old light bulb flickered weakly.

In the shifting shadows, a familiar outline slowly came into focus.

Jasmine. My wife.

She crouched in front of me, her fingers gently brushing through my hair. Her voice was softer than I had ever heard.

"Don't move. The rope will cut into you."

That voice slithered over my skin like a snake's tongue, making my stomach churn.

She stared at me, something unhinged burning in her eyes.

"You ruined Gil. Do you know that?"

Her voice was light, but it slammed into my chest like a hammer.

"In the report, he's listed as the primary offender. Ed, his life is over."

I looked at her, a chill creeping into my bones. "He brought it on himself."

She shook her head and sighed, as if I was being unreasonable.

"No. I can save him."

She stood and picked up a steel pipe from the corner, thick as my arm.

"As long as you can't disarm bombs anymore, they'll have no choice but to reinstate Gil. Help him. One last time. Don't worry. Once it's done, Gil and I will take good care of you."

My blood froze. Cold shot from my feet straight up to my scalp.

I watched in horror as she stepped closer, my eyes fixed on the pipe in her hands.

"Jasmine, have you lost your mind? What the hell are you doing? My hands are for defusing bombs, not for clearing the path for your precious trainee's future!"

A flicker of hesitation crossed her eyes, but the way she raised the pipe never wavered.

"I'll take care of you for the rest of your life."

Those were the last words I heard.

The pipe came down with a violent rush of air.

Crack!

I heard the sound of my right wrist shattering.

Pain swallowed me whole in an instant. Darkness crowded my vision, and I nearly blacked out.

Jasmine tossed the pipe aside and crouched down. With a towel she found somewhere, she carefully wrapped my crushed hand. Her movements were gentle, as if she were handling a priceless artifact.

She leaned close to my ear, warm breath brushing my neck as she whispered, "You'll have to stay here for one night. Once the investigation's over, I'll take you away. I can't let Gil's reputation be stained. Not even a bit."

After that, she stood up and walked out without looking back.

Click!

The light went out.

The room sank into complete darkness and silence.

-

Violent shaking jolted me awake.

The pain in my wrist flared as it was tugged, and I let out a muffled groan. Cold sweat soaked my back instantly.

It was Jasmine!

She grabbed my shoulders, her eyes split wide and bloodshot, like a rabid animal.

"Edmond! The server's core cooling system is down!"