Chapter 1
My blind date, James Wilson, politely slid the menu across the table to me.
"Take a look and see what you'd like. Don't be shy," he said.
His smile was perfectly measured, but behind those gold-rimmed glasses, he was checking me out without even trying to hide it.
Just as I looked up, a series of transparent pop-up stats exploded above his head, like special effects in a video game.
[Name: James Wilson]
[Mama's boy score: 99%]
[Violent tendencies: 78% (when dealing with those weaker than himself)]
[Actual monthly salary: 1,700 dollars (plus an extra 7,000 dollars from his parents)]
[Credit record: Excellent (not eligible for loans)]
A blood-red warning popped up, bold and huge, flashing frantically right in front of my eyes.
[Warning! Severe male chauvinism detected. Risk of domestic violence after marriage: over 90%! Isabella, get out of here now!]
My hand suddenly trembled as I held the cup.
The scalding coffee splashed across the table in an instant.
*****
"Oh, dear. How could you be so careless?" My aunt sitting across from me cried out, grabbing several tissues and frantically wiping James's sleeve.
James's face instantly darkened, but just for a second. Then he quickly returned to his fake gentlemanly demeanor.
He pulled a smile, pretending to be magnanimous.
"It's fine, Isabella. Don't worry," he said.
Nervous? Please. I was just straight-up disgusted.
I dipped my head, doing my best to mask the obvious distaste in her eyes, and put on an act of nervous apology. "Sorry, sorry. I really didn't mean to."
The pop-up messages above James's head kept updating.
[Oh, so clumsy. Definitely from some small town, totally inexperienced.]
[But her face and body aren't bad. My mom says women with big hips are good for having kids, so she's probably a safe bet.]
My stomach twisted with disgust.
My aunt kept chattering nonstop, singing my praises. "James, don't take it to heart. Isabella's really straightforward, never been in a relationship, super naive.
"Her job's stable. She works at a government office. Sure, it's only a few thousand dollars a month, but it's relaxed work, so she'll have plenty of time to look after the house."
James nodded in satisfaction, pushed up his glasses, and spoke as if he was doing her a favor.
"Don't worry, ma'am. Miss Jenkins seems quiet and reserved, just my type," he said. "Honestly, women with too much education or ambition are useless. What matters is being good at taking care of the home and giving me a child."
As soon as James finished talking, I felt like I'd just been struck by lightning.
Seriously? What century were we living in?
My aunt kept shooting me crazy looks, her eyes practically screaming, 'Come on, can't you see how much he likes you? Give him some reaction.'
I took a deep breath, lifted my head, and forced a shy smile.
"Mr. Wilson, you couldn't be more right," I said.
James's face instantly relaxed, with a hint of pride showing.
"Oh? You really think so?" he asked.
"Absolutely," I nodded, her tone sugary sweet. "I bet your mother must be an incredible woman to have raised such a remarkable, insightful son like you."
After all, she was the kind of mom who hands you 7,000 dollars a month for pocket money. Truly an incredible mom.
James's ego swelled. He sat up straighter, his chest puffed with pride.
"Of course. My mom always taught me that a man should focus on his career, and all the housework is the woman's job," he said.
"Well said!" I clapped my hands, drawing the attention of the people at the next table. "Your mother really understands what's important.
"So, I think you're the gold standard of filial sons, always listening to your mom, so devoted. You're practically the perfect son from those old stories."
James was so flattered that he could barely stop grinning.
"Oh, it's nothing, really. Just ordinary," he said, trying to sound modest.
I shot him a look of exaggerated "admiration."
"Everything your mom says is just perfect," I said, dripping with sarcasm. "So why not just marry your mom then?
"That way, you two can really seal the deal, combine forces, and your family bloodline will live on forever. Guaranteed."
The silence was deafening.
James's smile froze mid-grin.
My aunt's eyes were about to pop out of her head.
The pop-up messages above James's head, which had just been full of bragging, instantly turned into a storm of rage.
[This bitch. How dare she play me?
[Doesn't know her place. Who does she think she is? A thirty-year-old spinster. She should be grateful anyone even wants her.
[If my mom hadn't forced me, I wouldn't even touch trash like her.]
My smile grew even more smug.
I stood up slowly, grabbed my bag with deliberate grace. "Mr. Wilson, congratulations to you and your mom. May you live happily ever after and have lots of kids.
"Oh, and by the way, we're splitting the bill. Don't forget to pay your share.
"After all, mooching off your parents is embarrassing enough. You wouldn't want to freeload the meal too, right?"
With that, I didn't even bother to look at his face, now purple with rage, and turned to walk out.
Behind her, my aunt shouted in outrage. "Isabella! Get back here! How dare you act like that?"
I didn't even glance back. I strode right out of the restaurant.
The cold winter wind whipped across my face, but I felt totally exhilarated.
As soon as I reached the curb, my phone started buzzing like crazy.
My aunt again.
I didn't even hesitate. I hung up, blocked her, and handled it all in one smooth move.
The world was finally quiet.
[Ding! Congrats, Isabella, mission complete: You just put the mama's boy in his place.
[Reward: A beginner's gift pack has been added to your system inventory.]
A robotic electronic voice echoed in my mind.