The Psychotic Girl’s Revenge

In the oppressive and stifling air, extreme emotions festered among the group. The brief silence after the departure of two refugees lasted less than three hours before another fight broke out.

“Come on, all of you, come hit me! I don’t want to live anymore; let’s die together!” someone whispered angrily. Agitated, another person moved in to cover the man’s mouth and began hitting him. The women nearby murmured in distress.

Enrico was struck, but he didn’t fight back, thinking the attacker would stop. Instead, the other person, emboldened, lunged at him with a companion. Enrico fell heavily to the ground, a painful jolt running through his head.

He had to go back. He couldn’t afford to cause trouble.

“Bang!” A fist landed on his stomach, causing Enrico to groan in pain. He reached out, not daring to fight back fully, only blocking the blows defensively.

His lack of resistance made the attackers believe he was weak, and more angry refugees started joining in. Punches rained down on him.

Moments later, several bulky, foul-smelling men piled on top of him, using their weight to pin him down, venting all their frustration with life on him.

For a brief moment, Enrico felt like he was back in his childhood, being tormented by a group of servants. He gritted his teeth and endured it.

These people… just wait.

In the murky darkness, a sharp splinter suddenly pierced his fingertip, digging deep under the nail. The pain made his pupils contract sharply, veins bulging on his forehead and neck. Someone forcefully bent back one of his nails.

The next second, his nail was torn off.

“…”

Enrico bit down hard, the taste of blood filling his mouth as cold sweat poured from him like rain. The beating continued for a long time until the overseer tossed down some bread, and the fight finally ceased. The group acted as if nothing had happened and started eating.

Enrico curled up against a wooden beam, clutching his left ring finger with his right hand, gripping it so tightly his hand trembled. In the darkness, blood dripped from his fingers…

Paige. Paige. I’m suffering all this for you. Don’t you dare say you don’t love me!

Enrico gritted his teeth, his breathing becoming more labored.

Fine, we can talk about love later. Just don’t die. I’m almost back.

He didn’t know how much time had passed. In the excruciating pain that connected to his very core, Enrico drifted into unconsciousness. When he opened his eyes again, a beam of light shone down.

Warm light fell in strands on his blood-covered hands.

He looked up to see the plank above him being lifted. A girl sat quietly above, dressed in a moon-white long dress that draped to her knees. Her legs swung gently, and her slender fingers unwrapped a piece of candy, which she pushed into her cherry lips.

She looked down at him, her eyes curved in a smile, “Enrico, the candy is so sweet.”

Is it? Is it really that sweet?

Leaning against the wood, Enrico reached out to her, but the sharp pain in his fingertips snapped him back to reality.

There was no light, just darkness. Paige was nowhere to be seen.

His breath hitched, and he raised a hand to press against his head.

A hallucination.

How could he suddenly start hallucinating…

Enrico knocked his head a few times. It must have been the beating, the 20-plus hours without sleep, the endless rocking of the ship, and the lack of food that caused this.

Yes, that had to be it.

He needed to eat. He had to eat something.

Enrico groped around beside him and found a piece of torn bread that had fallen near him during the scuffle. He picked it up and brought it to his mouth, but the strong stench almost made him vomit.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

“…”

Enrico closed his eyes and, gritting his teeth, forced the bread into his mouth, swallowing it without chewing.

The urge to retch surged up his throat, but he fought it down.

In the darkness, his eyes were as dark as the underworld, haunted by phantoms and decay, yet capable of blooming the most beautiful red spider lilies.

…

It was the third day of Paige’s confinement in Gangnam Hall, and Rafael was beginning to feel the strain.

The clamor within the country grew louder, and the old families and conglomerates entrenched in the Presidential Palace seemed eager to unite and devour him.

Ironically, Gangnam Hall was the only place Rafael could find a moment of peace.

A subordinate stood nearby with a tray of medicine. This time, the glass bottle held five pills-another day of torment awaited.

Paige, chained and bound, was paler than her clothes. Unwashed for three days, she was sticky all over. Her long hair hung loosely and messily, her eyes red and dull, devoid of light.

After enduring inhumane torture for two consecutive days, it was a miracle she was still standing.

A small dog circled her feet, sensing its owner’s distress. It gently licked her pant leg, trying to offer comfort.

“Why do you keep holding on?” Rafael asked, seated in a chair, turning the watch on his wrist before sighing.

He didn’t know if he was sighing for her or for himself.

“…”

Paige didn’t respond. She was truly exhausted, weary, and in pain.

When even closing her eyes to sleep became a luxury, her mental strength had reached its limit.

Gangnam Hall was indeed skilled at tormenting people. She wanted to die, to escape all this, but she hadn’t forgotten that the future of the slums depended on her.

“Paige, do you hate me?” Rafael asked, his gaze distant.

He knew she wasn’t a heinous criminal, yet he had used such methods to torment her.

At his words, Paige slowly lifted her head to look at him. Her lips were dry, with blood beads clinging to them. She forced a weak smile and said, “If I turn into a vengeful spirit, I’ll have places to seek revenge, and you… might be one of them.”

“…”

That was harsh.

Not saying she hated him, nor that she didn’t hate him, but suggesting that he might be an afterthought in her vengeance?

Rafael felt conflicted by her words. After a long pause, he dusted off his nonexistent pants and stood up, adjusting his glasses. “Do you want to eat something first? You’ll have to take medicine later.”

“Candy.” Paige didn’t stand on ceremony with him.

Jaden had brought a jar of candy, on Enrico’s orders.

“Give her some candy,” Rafael instructed a subordinate before turning to leave. He walked out of the cell, pulling his suit tighter around him.

The temperature inside Gangnam Hall was much lower than outside.

As he walked through the long corridor, a butler in a tailcoat quickly approached, falling in step behind him. “Mr. President, you haven’t made a decision yet?”

If they delayed any longer, the situation outside would spiral out of control.

“We can’t wait any longer. If Paige refuses to confess, we’ll have to add more charges to silence the public. Accuse her of meeting with slum fugitives and the throat-slashing incident-pile on all the charges we can. That way, the conglomerates and the public will realize the slum secrets were just her making things up.”

Rafael continued walking as he spoke, “Also, release the students from Peak Club and have them testify to Paige’s crimes. The testimony of people close to her will be more convincing and will help calm things down quickly.”