Chapter 2

My father's outstretched arms froze in mid-air.

The smile on his face gradually disappeared, leaving only shock.

My mother hurried over, forcefully pulling down his arms, plastering a smile on her face.

"You've learned manners now. That's wonderful."

She tried to take my hand.

I stepped back again, maintaining a three-meter distance from her.

My mother's smile completely froze.

My father's expression darkened, but he still said patiently:

"Nora, stop this. Come home with us."

I didn't move, only stared at them expressionlessly.

After a full minute, I finally nodded.

"Command confirmed: Return home."

I turned and began walking, each step precisely the same distance as the last.

They followed behind me in complete silence.

The car stopped in front of a familiar mansion, but I felt nothing.

They led me into a room.

Pure white walls, pure white bedsheets, a pure white desk.

The room contained only necessities, without any extra decoration.

Like a high-end hospital room.

My father said with a hint of flattery:

"Nora, look, we prepared this new room for you. You always complained your room was messy before. You'll definitely like this one."

I surveyed the room and nodded.

"Meets New Life Code Appendix Two, Environmental Cleanliness Standards."

A muscle in my father's face twitched.

Dinnertime.

I sat at the table, back perfectly straight, hands resting on my knees.

When the meal began, I picked up my fork and only took food from directly in front of me.

The number of times I chewed, when I drank water—everything strictly followed some invisible standard.

My mother watched me, her eyes filled with indescribable heartache.

She placed a piece of roasted meat in my bowl.

"Nora, this used to be your favorite. Try some."

I set down my fork.

Then, right in front of her, I picked out that piece of meat and placed it on an empty plate beside me.

I raised my head, looking at her face that had instantly turned pale, and calmly recited:

"New Life Code, Article Seven: Refuse unrequested offerings to eliminate greed."

"You don't need to follow those ridiculous rules at home!"

My father finally lost his patience and slammed the table with a low roar.

I turned my gaze to him, my eyes without a ripple of emotion.

"The Code is life itself. It cannot be violated."

The air fell deadly silent.

Just then, a little boy in pajamas came toddling over.

He held up a red toy in his hands, presenting it to me.

"Nora, play with me."

It was my brother.

I immediately stood up from my chair and quickly stepped back two paces, creating distance between us.

"New Life Code, Article Nineteen: Contact with addictive entertainment items is prohibited."

My reaction was fast and mechanical.

My four-year-old brother was frightened.

He froze in place, his mouth trembling, then burst into tears.

The piercing cry shattered the quiet of the dining room.

Three years ago, it was also such a cry that made my father smash my castle.

History was repeating itself.

My mother's face instantly became extremely ugly. Without thinking, she shouted at me:

"You again!"

Her voice was shrill, filled with rage.

But when her eyes met my hollow gaze, that fire seemed to be extinguished by a bucket of ice water.

She opened her mouth, but the rest of her scolding wouldn't come out. In its place was a chill rising from the depths of her heart.

My father irritably picked up the crying boy and waved his hand forcefully.

"Enough! Go to your room!"

I didn't argue.

"Command received."

I turned and left the dining room with measured steps, as if walking along a ruler.

Behind me were my brother's endless cries and my parents' increasingly heavy breathing.

They had finally gotten their "perfect" daughter.

A daughter who was absolutely obedient, absolutely well-behaved.