Chapter 3

In my past life, my desk mate had asked if I wanted to study abroad with her in France.

I didn't need to worry about expenses—her family was willing to cover my tuition and living costs.

I was especially interested in languages. Since childhood, I had learned fluent French by watching TV.

Even then, a small seed had planted itself in my heart.

I was determined to become an amazing translator.

My desk mate was an immigrant from France. When she heard my spoken French, she was surprised that my pronunciation was so standard.

She was an only child, and her family didn't feel comfortable letting her travel alone. They would only allow her to venture to Europe if someone went with her.

I hesitated back then, but ultimately refused.

In my past life, I didn't want to leave Jimenez.

Then that incident happened, and Jimenez and I left school, abandoning our education.

This time, I wanted to seize the opportunity and never let it slip through my fingers again.

When I arrived, Figueroa was already sitting at our spot waiting for me, with various study materials on the table.

"Since you're the one who invited me this time, don't give up easily. I don't want to hear you abandon your dreams for Jimenez again."

She shrugged with feigned indifference.

I smiled apologetically: "I won't."

"All I want now is to study, go to France as soon as possible and realize my dreams. People need to take responsibility for their own lives."

There were no online classes at this time. Preparing for exams could only rely on self-study.

But Figueroa handed me a brand-new French textbook. "Study hard."

I said nothing more and began seriously memorizing French.

After about two hours, I finally looked up and twisted my stiff neck.

"Let's stop here for today. We'll continue tomorrow."

Figueroa packed up her bag.

I took out my phone. Instantly, countless messages popped up, all from Jimenez.

[Where are you?]

[I don't see you]

[Can you reply? I'm really worr—]

The message was sent before he finished typing.

I sneered.

He wasn't worried about me—he was worried the incident wouldn't happen to me.

I casually replied:

[Sorry, I just saw my phone. I was reviewing with a classmate. You should head home first.]

I did it on purpose, deliberately coming to the library so everyone could see me studying and serve as my witnesses.

That way, if something happened to Jimenez, they couldn't blame it on me.

Jimenez didn't reply.

I didn't care.

On the way home, I heard passersby discussing in shock with their friends.

"Oh my God, did you know? A male student at our high school was sexually assaulted by a group of thugs!"

"I heard when they found him, he had rectal prolapse and was covered in blood!"

"Those thugs are absolute scum!"

"Who knows? Maybe that male student was promiscuous, deliberately looking for thrills, and things got out of hand with those thugs. Otherwise, why didn't the thugs target anyone else?"

Hearing the same rhetoric from my past life, tears nearly fell from my eyes.

In my past life, they said the same things about me.

Back then, I couldn't listen to any gossip. I would rush at them, ready to fight.

Jimenez advised me that mouths belonged to others, and even if I stopped them for a moment, I couldn't stop them forever.

They would still talk behind my back. He told me not to take it to heart.

This time it was his turn. I hoped he could be just as open-minded.

The thugs Aurora hired were quite reliable.

Since I didn't go, Jimenez was alone in the alley. So even if they had suspicions, they still dutifully completed their task.