I Didn't Go To The Library To Avoid Getting Set Up

When I came out of the shower, I saw countless messages on my phone.

When I swiped open my phone, I found that Josie had called me out in the university confession forum.

[Red flag! Owen from our major harassed me in public for over two hours. Can the university do something about this?]

Attached was a photo of me walking across campus. My hand lifted as I scratched an itch during a flare-up of my skin condition.

My inbox exploded with messages.

[How could you do something like that in public? Are you a pervert?]

[Is this really someone from our major who got into grad school? Is this kind of person even qualified?]

[So this is the so-called top student who got a recommendation, looks down on everyone, and even harasses a female classmate? Disgusting!]

At the same time, Josie texted me.

[Owen, I didn’t expect you to do something like that to me! I don’t want to escalate this. Write me a letter of apology, and I will clarify things for you.]

I sneered and replied indifferently.

[Sure. I’ll write it once you release all the surveillance footage.]

Josie went silent.

But as I walked around campus, people stared at me with strange, hostile looks.

“Look, that’s the pervert! Be careful, he might be watching you!”

“I heard he only got into grad school because his brother’s a lecturer here. Riding on family connections, huh?”

“Poor Josie. She was threatened so badly that she almost failed multiple courses. How can trash like this exist at a university?”

Their words were exactly the same as they had been before. It was painfully familiar.

In my past life, after Josie framed me, the university handed down severe disciplinary action.

I told them I had evidence, but the dean slammed his hand on the desk, glaring at me.

“Do you have any idea how much damage you’ve caused? Our university’s reputation took years to build! If you can’t produce evidence, you’re finished!”

I was forced back to my dorm to look for my medical diagnosis report. Before I could even speak, my roommate burned it.

“You want evidence? You never showed me mercy during exams. Why should I help you?”

I tried to get a replacement from the campus clinic, but the girl on duty that day shut the door in my face.

“Get lost! If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police!”

Desperate, I went to my brother and asked him to vouch for my skin condition. But when I walked into his office, I saw Josie crying pitifully in front of him.

He slapped me without letting me explain.

“You trash! You’re no longer my family!”

I was unable to produce evidence, so I was expelled from the university.

To suppress the scandal, the university simply gave my graduate school spot to Josie.

As I left campus, my coursemates piled on me and said that people like me deserved what I got.

That was how my life had ended in the past. This time, remembering that fate, I quietly began gathering evidence. Along the way, I endured countless looks of contempt.

When everything was finally ready, and I was preparing to fight back, my inbox flooded again.

[Is this really how a university student should be? If I were you, I’d be too ashamed to stay.]

[You’re such a disgrace to our university. Get out!]

Someone even photoshopped my photo into a black-and-white obituary surrounded by funeral wreaths.

I was being cyberbullied.

The familiar messages stabbed straight into my heart.

I never expected this. After returning from the past, I had deliberately avoided Josie. I had even given up my graduate school spot, but she still wanted to destroy me!