I'm Going to Kill You All

Bam!I forcefully kicked open the bedroom door, and it slammed heavily against the wall. Startled, my wife and the unfamiliar man inside shivered. Both stared at me, seemingly stunned.

But I wasn't stunned. I charged forward, raising the knife in my hand and viciously swung it down towards the man's head.

At the same time, I cursed loudly, "Damn you! I'll kill you!"

The man dodged a bit, but my blow still grazed his arm, tearing a piece of his clothes and letting blood flow.

I wasn't thinking about consequences at that moment. The vengeance for my wife's betrayal was all that mattered; even if it meant my death, I had to slaughter this adulterer!I 

swung the knife again towards him, but this time, he managed to avoid it completely. My strike hit the wardrobe, creating a gash and getting the knife stuck.

As I tried to pull the knife out, the man attempted to flee.

I didn't bother with the knife anymore and chased after him, delivering a powerful kick from behind.

He tumbled to the ground, and I swiftly mounted him, gripping his throat tightly with both hands.

He struggled, hands flailing, but in my blinded rage, I paid no attention to it.

At that moment, my wife grabbed me from behind, desperately pulling me away. Yet, I didn't release my grip on the man's throat.She shouted, "Alex Phoenix, stop it! Don't kill him!"

Red-eyed, I roared, "Today, someone will die! Get away and I'll deal with you later!"

She kept pulling me, simultaneously shouting, "Don't misunderstand, Alex Phoenix! Stop it!"

I yelled back, "Misunderstand? You go away; I'll settle with you later."

While my wife continued her futile attempts to restrain me, I continued, "You go away! Later, I'll deal with you."

The man, still pinned under me, struggled for breath. His hands flailed less vigorously, indicating he was nearing the limit.

Suddenly, he pulled out a work ID from his pocket and tossed it on the floor.

I glanced at it and indeed, it was a courier's identification.

Seeing this, I loosened my grip but didn't release him, still straddling him.

After catching his breath, he started coughing, appearing in pain.

I picked up the ID, examined it, and compared it to him. It was a match.

But I couldn't believe that a courier would be delivering packages at nearly 11 p.m., especially going into the bedroom.

It just didn't add up!

My wife interjected, "Alex Phoenix, trust me, he's really a delivery guy."

I shot her an angry glare, saying, "A delivery guy delivering packages this late into the night?"

The courier, still under my weight, explained, "Big brother, I work for a local express delivery service. Usually, we're available 24/7 for emergency deliveries. You can call my company if you don't believe me."

Caught off guard, I turned to my wife and demanded, "Fine, let's say he's a delivery guy, but why did he enter our bedroom?"

She hurriedly explained, "There was a rat in the bedroom, and I asked this gentleman to help me find it. He was just trying to be helpful!"

I acknowledged that we did have a rat problem in our old neighborhood. Being an allocated housing project, we lived on the 6th floor, making it easy for rats to climb through the plumbing.

The courier chimed in, "Big brother, you really misunderstood. I came to help your wife catch the rat."

"Where's the rat? Did you catch it?" I asked."

I caught it, and it's already in the trash bin. I was about to dispose of it downstairs before you came in," he replied.

I sighed in relief, realizing that I had misunderstood the situation. I'd accidentally injured the well-intentioned courier.

Apologizing, I rushed to find the first aid kit and began treating his wound.

Continuously expressing my regret, I said, "I'm so sorry. I got carried away. I'm willing to compensate for any medical expenses. I'm really sorry."

The courier, understanding and forgiving, sighed and said, "It's okay; you didn't know the situation. I'm fine, and it's just a scratch. I've been through similar experiences."

A fellow victim of marital infidelity? I didn't ask about his painful past. Instead, I patted him on the shoulder and handed him a cigarette, saying, "Brother, I'm really sorry. Let me get your contact information. I'll invite you for a drink to make amends."

He waved it off, saying, "Drinking is okay, but no need to apologize. I understand, big brother. I need to get back to delivering now."

He left me his phone number, and I walked him to the door, feeling truly guilty.

As I closed the door, I noticed the unfamiliar pair of shoes still at the entrance. The courier had worn shoe covers, so the shoes weren't his.

Whose shoes could they be?

Could there really be another man hiding in some corner of the house?

I didn't hesitate any longer and started searching everywhere.

Today, I must expose you!