Galaxy's Only Triple-S: Five Lords Can't Hold Her novel Chapter 3

Margaret opened their emails one by one. The content was identical. And every line practically dripped with humiliation.

They offered her a one-time payment of 50,000 credits. The conditions? She had to give up all rights to split their marital property. She also had to leave Prime Planet permanently. And she couldn't mention her marriage to them in public ever again.

Margaret frowned. In the original host's memory, her three husbands were all S-class beastmen. They had status and money.

Only 50,000 credits each? And no property split? Are they trying to get rid of a beggar?

She closed their emails immediately. Then she searched the laws of this world in her Holo-bracelet. A few minutes later, she started typing a reply.

It read, "To: Raikes, Kiran, Ardon

"Subject: Response to the Draft Agreement on the Dissolution of Marriage

"Gentlemen.

"I have received your letter.

"After reviewing it, I see a big gap between your proposed compensation and what the law actually requires.

"According to Article 47, Section 3 of the Interstellar Marriage Law, a female has the right to claim 30% of the couple's joint property upon divorce.

"Based on publicly available information (sources linked below), your annual incomes over the past three years are as follows.

"Raikes Walker (heir to the Walker family, the Fourth Galaxy): average annual income of approximately 1.2 million credits.

"Kiran Noah (heir to the Noah family, the Seventh Galaxy; Colonel in the Federal Military Legion 3): average annual income and investment returns of approximately 3.5 million credits.

"Ardon Flame (A-class registered hunter, Starfield Free Mercenaries Guild): average annual commission income of approximately 800,000 credits.

"Based on these figures, here is my minimum legal claim: You need to...

"Furthermore, according to the Special Protection Clause for Females in Divorce, the requirement that a female must permanently leave Prime Planet is an unreasonable restriction on a female's freedom of movement. It requires special approval from the Female Protection Association.

"Also, under the Personal Information Protection Act, a clause that says a female may not mention her marriage could violate her freedom of speech. I suggest revising that."

Margaret typed the final period. She read through the whole thing again. Then she hit send.

The Holo-bracelet made a soft whoosh sound. The email was sent. And suddenly, her stomach felt painfully empty. She got up and found half a bottle of water on the nightstand. She twisted off the cap and gulped down two mouthfuls of cold water.

She had just put the bottle down when heavy, urgent footsteps pounded outside her door. Then came the knocking—loud and rude.

"Margaret! Open up!" It was Ardon. She could feel his anger right through the door.

Margaret walked back to the bed slowly and sat down. She ignored him.

"I know you're in there. Your Holo-bracelet shows you're online." Ardon pounded again. The metal door frame rattled. "What the hell did you send us?"

"Ardon." That was Kiran—calmer, with a note of warning. "Stop banging on the door."

"Did you see that email?" Ardon's voice went up. "She calculated our income. And she's quoting laws? A C-class—"

"Shut up," Kiran said. There was a pause. Then he spoke to the door. "Margaret, we need to talk."

Margaret finally got up and walked to the door. She didn't open it. She just spoke through the door. "Talk about what? I was pretty clear in the email."

Is he suspicious of me?

Finally, Kiran broke it. "Fine. We'll draft a new agreement. We can negotiate the compensation. We'll drop the requirement about leaving Prime Planet. But you need to sign as soon as possible."

"Deal," Margaret said quickly. "But first—show me some good faith."

Kiran asked, "What kind of good faith?"

"Transfer ten thousand credits to my account. Right now," Margaret stated.

There was no sound from outside. A few seconds later, the old Holo-bracelet on the desk buzzed. Margaret went over and checked. Her balance jumped to 10,032 credits.

Then footsteps echoed outside, then faded away.

Margaret waited until there was complete silence. Then she cracked the door open and peeked out. The hallway was empty. Those three d*mn men were finally gone. She closed the door, locked it, and let out a long breath. Her legs felt a little weak.

She didn't waste any time. Using the money she just got, she went to the cheapest 24-hour convenience store in the Starnet community. She ordered ten basic nutrient solutions, a bag of synthetic bread, and the cheapest bottle of painkillers. She hadn't felt it earlier—too tense—but now the cramping in her stomach was getting worse. She even set the delivery address as, "Toss into the window of the third room on the second floor."

Margaret didn't want to spend too much. She wasn't sure how long the back-and-forth with those three would last. If they kicked her out halfway through, she'd need some cash to survive.

Half an hour later, a small drone flew up to her window and dropped a package inside.

Margaret picked it up and sat on the bed. First, she opened the painkillers and took some. She waited for the sharp cramps in her stomach to ease. Then she tore open a nutrient solution and took a swig.

She almost spat it right back out. It was disgusting. It tasted like bitter, spoiled cucumber juice. She quickly ripped off a piece of bread and stuffed it in her mouth to kill the taste. But the synthetic bread tasted like soggy cardboard.

Margaret didn't have a choice, though. If she didn't eat, she'd starve. So she forced it all down.

She looked out the window. Prime Planet's artificial moon had risen. Its cold, white light streamed through the glass and spilled across the floor.