Transmigrated as the Villain Boss's Precious Darling

The doctor glanced at Jim Thorne, who stood to the side looking terrified (though in reality, he was looking down, pleased with himself). He didn’t have the heart to scold the boy. He was just a kid from the countryside; it must have been an accident. The woman would just have to chalk it up to bad luck.

"Fortunately, it’s just your arm. If it were your face or neck, it would be much more troublesome," the doctor said, trying to comfort her.

But Bernice found his words grating. Her usual feigned elegance vanished as she shrieked, "If it were my face, I’d kill this little bastard! Aah... it hurts so much... This little bastard has to go to jail! He did it on purpose! Do you have any idea how important my hands are to me? You know nothing!"

"Please don’t kill me... I didn’t do it on purpose... Officer, sir, I really didn’t mean to... The smell on her was so strong, I couldn’t help but sneeze, and then I accidentally spilled the water... ACHOO..."

Jim Thorne pitifully grabbed the train attendant’s hand and even faked a few more sneezes. When he sneezed, his body did indeed lurch uncontrollably. Anyone holding two cups of hot water would naturally spill them.

Prompted by Jim Thorne, the other passengers also noticed the heavy scent of perfume on Bernice. In the cramped train car, it was particularly overpowering. They hadn’t noticed it before, but now that they were paying attention, their own noses began to itch.

"ACHOO..."

Several passengers started sneezing one after another. The train attendant involuntarily rubbed his nose, growing more convinced of Jim Thorne’s story. If even a world-weary man like him couldn’t stand the scent, how could a simple country kid be expected to?

"You did it on purpose! My perfume is imported from Orleanna! What the hell would a country bumpkin like you know? Officer, you have to arrest him! Put him in jail... Don’t let him get away with this!"

Bernice’s arm hurt so much she could barely open her eyes, but she was determined not to let Jim Thorne off the hook. She wanted to see the little bastard in jail, and then she would bribe a few people on the inside to teach him a harsh lesson.

When she left the Northern Wastes, she had secretly sworn an oath: she would never let anyone bully her again. She would repay any slight a hundred times over!

"Please don’t send me to jail... Officer, sir, my family are poor farmers... my grandpa is a Party member... It wasn’t on purpose... I’ll get on my knees and beg you... Please, let me go..."

Jim Thorne cursed inwardly. ’And I have to get on my knees for this damn woman? Son of a bitch!’

’But a real man knows when to yield. I’ll settle the score with this vixen later. For now, I just need to get through this.’

The ever-adaptable Jim Thorne really did start to kneel. But he had a little trick up his sleeve. Just as his knees were about to hit the floor, he pretended his legs gave out and collapsed, tumbling over. He then decided not to get back up and simply started wailing.

"Dad... Mom... I’m not coming home... You’ll never see me again... Grandpa, I can’t bring your medicine back now... I’m a terrible grandson, I can’t even handle one little thing..."

Jim Thorne was lying through his teeth. His home was thousands of miles away; it wasn’t like the police could actually go there to check.

"Your grandpa is sick?" a passenger asked with concern.

Jim Thorne nodded, weeping. "He’s very sick, and my family has no money for treatment. My uncle in Capria said he got some medicine for Grandpa. We were afraid it would get lost in the mail, and my parents are too busy with the harvest, so I came to get it myself... Grandpa’s waiting on this medicine to get better... But now I’m going to jail... and he’ll never recover..."

Some of the more soft-hearted passengers immediately sympathized with him and couldn’t help but wipe their eyes. ’What a good, dutiful boy,’ they thought, ’taking on so much for his family at such a young age.’

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