Dad Became Richest, Made Mom and Me Sleep in Doghouse

The year I turned eight, my father clawed his way back to the top and became the richest man in the city. But he still made my mother sleep in the doghouse on the balcony. Because he had found out by accident that my mother was a traveler from another world, one of those people bound to a system. He thought she was a host draining his fortune-luck dry, so he tormented her every way he could. What he didn't know was that the system my mother was bound to was a Death-Substitution System. All this time, she had been quietly taking his disasters in his place. Today was my father's thirtieth birthday, and my mother's death-substitution mission was finally complete. She had bought a new dress, ready to tell my father that our family could finally live a normal life now. But before the birthday party even began, my father stood there with his arm around Aunt Marjorie, pointing at my mother and shouting. "You bloodsucker. As long as you're around, Nina gets sick!" "Why don't you just die, you poisonous thing?" Aunt Marjorie huddled against my father's chest, trembling. But I saw the smug little smile at the corner of her mouth. My mother looked down at her own body, worn through with wounds, and offered no defense. She took my hand and gently asked me, "Nina, Mommy's going to take you home. Will you come with me?"