Chapter 3

The next afternoon, the face in the mirror, covered in burns, was swollen and oozing yellow fluid.

I can't delay any longer. I don't have money for effective anti-inflammatory drugs, and this severely infected wound will soon kill me. I pulled out my empty wallet, which contained only two crumpled bills. I took a deep breath, pushed open the door, and headed straight for the supermarket. It contained my wages for the past three days of stocking shelves; however meager, it was my only hope of buying medicine and surviving.

The moment the supermarket glass door was pushed open, the noise at the checkout counter came to an abrupt halt.

The store manager, Stefan, was standing behind the service counter. When he saw me, the fat on his face twitched violently, and he instinctively took a half step back.

"Settle my wages for these three days." I slammed my employee card on the table. "Take the money and I'm leaving."

Before Stefan could utter a sound, a sharp female voice pierced through the nearby shelf like a chainsaw.

"You perverted bastard, how dare you come back?!"

It's that woman from yesterday.

She led the boy by the hand, her high heels swaying menacingly as she approached. The boy, hiding behind her, made a vicious throat-slitting gesture at me.

The woman slapped a gold-embossed business card hard across Stefan's face.

"Stephen! Open your dog eyes and look carefully! I am the head of the 'Oak Bay Community Parents Alliance'!"

The woman pointed her finger at my nose, spitting almost onto my face: "If you dare to give this monster even a penny, I can mobilize all three thousand families in the community within ten minutes to completely shut down your supermarket!"

Stefan's face turned deathly pale. He glanced at the business card, then at the growing crowd of customers around him, cold sweat dripping from his forehead onto the counter.

"Madam, please don't be angry, I'll handle it right away..."

He turned his head abruptly, his fawning demeanor instantly turning into ruthlessness.

"Jack, you're permanently fired for child harassment!" Stefan suddenly raised his voice, as if afraid no one would hear him. "No salary, no compensation! Security! Throw this pervert out!"

Two tall, burly security guards pounced on me like wolves, tightly binding my arms behind my back, one on each side.

"Let go." My muscles tensed instantly. The strength I honed in the fire brigade meant I could break free and snap their arms in a second if I wanted to.

"Take a picture! Everyone, take a picture!" The woman raised her phone and started recording in high definition, her voice trembling with excitement. "Look! This criminal pervert not only groped the child, but now he's going to hit someone!"

Reason held my fist firmly. If I made a move, I would truly become the violent criminal she described.

I gritted my teeth and let the security guard roughly drag me toward the gate.

"Get out of our supermarket! Disgusting!"

Amidst deafening cheers from the surrounding customers, I was shoved forcefully through the automatic door, stumbling and falling onto the hard concrete pavement. My palms were scraped, and blood seeped out.

I pushed myself up from the ground. Just then, the cell phone notifications from pedestrians on the street suddenly started ringing incessantly.

"Look at the group chat! That pervert is nearby..."

"Oh my god, the parents' association has issued a notice saying that he specifically targets children in supermarkets and is a serious criminal with a criminal record!"

"The photos have been leaked, and he looks terrifying!"

Rumors spread like wildfire, instantly engulfing the entire community via the wireless network. The woman not only wanted to ruin my livelihood, but also to completely erase me from society.

This suffocating malice forced me to quicken my pace.

As the car approached the intersection, a car waiting at a red light suddenly rolled down its window.

"Pooh!"

A thick wad of phlegm landed precisely on my work jacket. The driver arrogantly raised his middle finger: "Pervert, get out of our town!"

I didn't even have the strength to wipe myself. Everyone on the street was pointing and whispering about me, countless eyes staring at me like I was a bug. Reality had completely exposed me; wherever I went was a dead end.

I walked quickly back to the courtyard where I rented a place, and I had just stepped onto the wooden steps.

"Pfft!"

A strange, piercing sensation came from the sole of the shoe. A sharp, intense pain shot straight to my nerves.

I suddenly lifted my foot, and a rusty five-inch nail pierced straight through the sole of my work boot and into the sole of my foot!

I forced myself to pull out the nail despite the excruciating pain, and blood immediately gushed out. Only then did I realize that the entire baseboard of the porch was covered with countless rusty nails, all facing upwards.

I steadied myself by holding onto the doorframe, my gaze sweeping over the mailbox beside me. The lock had been violently smashed, and the mailbox was stuffed full of bloody animal entrails and notes covered in profanities.

"You pervert!" "Get out of here or I'll burn you alive!"

"You're not dead yet, you monster!"

A harsh curse came from the side. Through the low wooden fence, Mrs. Harris, the neighbor, was gripping the garden hose tightly, her eyes gleaming with fanatical malice.

Before I could react, she abruptly turned on the water valve. A jet of icy, high-pressure water, mixed with sand and mud, lashed my face!

The water relentlessly washed over my inflamed and festering burn wounds, a feeling a thousand times more painful than when I was in the sea of fire.

"That's him! Disgusting!"

The newspaper delivery boy on his bicycle happened to pass by. Instead of throwing the newspaper into the yard as usual, he pulled a clump of mud from his pocket and slammed it hard against my door.

Muddy water splashed everywhere, getting into my bleeding wound.

I didn't flinch. I wiped the mud and grime off my face and coldly surveyed my surroundings.

Across the street, behind the windows of neighboring houses, inside cars parked on the roadside… countless shadowy figures holding up their phones were staring at me excitedly. They didn't need evidence, they didn't need the truth; they just needed a legal target to vent their violence at will.

I dragged my bleeding foot, pushed open the dilapidated door, and kept all the insults and flashes of light outside.

The room was eerily quiet. The wound on his face began to throb violently, and blood from the soles of his feet left a long red trail on the floor.

With no money and no medicine, even stepping out of this door would mean being devoured alive. I felt as if I were back in the fire a few months ago, surrounded by dead ends.

I walked to the table and took out a bandage to treat my foot injury myself.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Suddenly, a violent banging came from outside the door, so loud that even the plaster on the wall was shaken and fell off.

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