Chapter 2

Before Stefan could even finish his question, the woman had already launched her attack.

“He not only looks like a monster, but he also yelled at my son!” Tears streamed down her face as she grabbed Stefan’s clothes. “That pervert even tried to put his hand inside my son’s clothes!”

The accusations escalated again. The gasps around me felt like a barrage of needles pricking me.

I watched her masterful performance with a cold eye, without even raising an eyebrow.

“There are three cameras above passage number 3.” I pointed to the black hemisphere on the ceiling, my voice as deep as iron. “Check the surveillance footage, frame by frame. If I’ve ever touched a single finger of his, I’ll jump into a meat grinder on the spot.”

The woman's shrill cries stopped abruptly. She glanced instinctively at the camera, a flicker of panic in her eyes.

"To the monitoring room!" Stefan, as if granted a pardon, grabbed my arm tightly and dragged me to the backstage area.

Pushing open the heavy security door, a musty smell mixed with the stench of cheap tobacco hit me. Old Joe, the security guard, was dozing off, staring at the screen.

"Quick! Switch to the replay of Channel 3!" Stefan slammed his fist on the table.

Old Joe frantically typed on the keyboard. The screen flickered, then a blinding display of static appeared.

My heart sank suddenly, and an ominous premonition instantly gripped my throat.

"Where's the recording?" I moved closer to the screen.

Old Joe stammered, looking at Stefan for help.

Stefan's fat face turned a deep purplish-red. He lowered his voice, his tone full of guilt: "That row...that row are fake security cameras. The supermarket cut its budget last month, and the laundry section is full of plastic shells to scare away shoplifters."

There was no surveillance. My only weapon to prove my innocence was a plastic shell.

This absurd reality hit me like a heavy punch to the temple.

Before I could process this absurd truth, a commotion suddenly erupted outside the door, as if the roof had been blown off.

"Get that monster out here!"

The banging on the door was deafening. I pushed aside Stefan, who was blocking my way, and strode out of the security door.

The supermarket entrance was completely blocked. Several of the woman's burly male relatives suddenly appeared and sealed off the exit.

"They have no surveillance! They are protecting pedophiles!" The woman stood on the shopping cart, raising her arms and shouting like a victorious general.

Upon hearing the words "no surveillance," the crowd's malice completely vanished.

"Kill this freak!"

With a piercing scream, a round object traced an arc through the air.

Snap!

The sticky egg yolk suddenly exploded on my left cheek. The shattered eggshells sharply tore through the already fragile dark red scab, and a fishy, foul smell instantly filled my nostrils.

The one who threw the eggs was the same little boy who had been trembling just moments before. He was hiding behind his mother's legs, making faces at me.

"Enough!" Stefan rushed out, but he wasn't there to protect me.

He turned to face me, not even daring to look at my bleeding face, his voice trembling but resolute: "Jack, you're suspended. Take off your uniform and get out now! Never come back!"

To quell public anger, he pinned all the blame on me.

I stared into his evasive eyes, a cold laugh escaping my throat. This was the world I had risked my life to protect back then.

I didn't utter a single word of argument. I ripped off the blue work clothes stained with egg yolk in front of everyone, slammed them down at Stefan's feet, and pushed through the crowd into the cold street.

The anger of betrayal sustained me all the way back to my rented room. It wasn't until I pushed open the dilapidated wooden door that the burning pain on my face finally erupted.

I went straight to the sink, turned the tap on full blast, and the icy water washed away the blood and egg residue.

Looking up, I saw a face in the mirror that looked like a demon, inflamed and festering.

"Look, it's the one on the second floor..."

A hushed conversation suddenly drifted in from outside the window. I turned my head sharply.

Through the gap in the blinds, three neighbors were standing downstairs, staring intently at my window. One of them was excitedly typing something on his phone screen.

I abruptly pulled the blinds shut, completely shutting out those malicious prying eyes.

But this does not stop the wound from worsening.

That night, I suffered from a high fever and the burning pain of festering eschar, my nerves were stretched to the limit.