Raise Your Bastard? Nah, Reborn to Return Your Future Jailbird! - Chapter 68: Chapter 68
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After completing procedures and receiving administrative punishment for "destruction of property," I walked out of the station with my parents.
The entrance was instantly swarmed by reporters, my parents shielding me tightly.
I spoke to the cameras, word by word: "Truth is the best alibi. I believe in the law."
On the way home, Mom gripped my hand tightly: "Raven, we finally made it through."
I was about to nod when my phone rang.
Professor Martinez's voice was urgent: "Raven, new smear material has appeared online!"
My heart instantly sank.
That afternoon, all major online platforms suddenly featured "clarification statements" from Damon's parents.
They'd hired the nation's top legal team, spreading overwhelming narratives about me "plotting revenge out of spurned love."
"This girl is terrifying—designing such an elaborate scheme just to get back at her boyfriend!"
"Scheming honor student, a real high-level manipulator!"
Reading these comments, I trembled all over.
How had I, the victim, become the perpetrator again?
What enraged me more was Damon's mother actually finding my school and publicly kneeling: "Please spare my son! He just made a momentary mistake!"
Surrounded by "passersby" filming with phones, the video quickly spread across the internet.
Netizens went crazy: "Such a pitiful mother—that honor student is too vicious!"
Standing at the school entrance watching this farce, I wanted to rush over and tear off her hypocritical mask.
But I couldn't.
One impulsive move would earn me another "poor character" label.
The next morning, Mom's scream woke me from sleep.
I rushed out to see our front door splashed with red paint, crooked writing on the wall: "Pay your debts or die."
Mom's legs gave out, Dad's hands shook holding the mop.
"Who did this? Who dares treat us this way?" Dad's voice trembled.
Neighbors poked their heads out, pointing and whispering. I heard them gossiping: "That's the family whose daughter specializes in ruining people..."
My heart was bleeding.
The pain of my past life was vivid—this time I absolutely wouldn't let my parents endure this again.
That afternoon, an anonymous package arrived.
Opening it, my hands shook.
Inside were secretly-taken photos of my father, background showing a disreputable massage parlor.
A note was pressed under the photos: "Want your dad's reputation destroyed?"
Seeing the photos, Dad's face went deathly pale: "Raven, this... this is a frame-up! I've never been to such places!"
Mom saw the photos and completely broke down.
She cried, holding me: "Raven, let's just drop it! We can't fight them! If your father gets slandered, this family is finished!"
I trembled with rage.
My past life's tragedy taught me that mercy toward enemies is cruelty toward oneself.
"Mom, trust me. This time, I'll protect you both."
I didn't retreat. Instead, I turned all this threatening evidence over to police as new charges of witness intimidation against Damon and his family.
But that wasn't enough.
I wanted them to pay a greater price.
I "accidentally" leaked a photo of a fake USB drive on social media, with the caption: "Some things are worth more than fifty million."
Sure enough, within an hour, Damon's father called: "What exactly do you want?"
I sneered: "You know best what you've done."
After hanging up, I began strategizing. Since they wanted to play, I'd play to the end.
I would set a trap to ensure Damon and his family could never recover.
But just as I was preparing to act, my phone rang again.
It was the Legal Evening News reporter: "Besides you, we've found three more new victims. One girl has already jumped to her death after being defrauded by him."
My blood instantly turned ice-cold.
Fifteen victims.
Two already dead.
I looked out the window and clenched my fists.
Damon Cross, this time I'll make you wish you were dead.
The entrance was instantly swarmed by reporters, my parents shielding me tightly.
I spoke to the cameras, word by word: "Truth is the best alibi. I believe in the law."
On the way home, Mom gripped my hand tightly: "Raven, we finally made it through."
I was about to nod when my phone rang.
Professor Martinez's voice was urgent: "Raven, new smear material has appeared online!"
My heart instantly sank.
That afternoon, all major online platforms suddenly featured "clarification statements" from Damon's parents.
They'd hired the nation's top legal team, spreading overwhelming narratives about me "plotting revenge out of spurned love."
"This girl is terrifying—designing such an elaborate scheme just to get back at her boyfriend!"
"Scheming honor student, a real high-level manipulator!"
Reading these comments, I trembled all over.
How had I, the victim, become the perpetrator again?
What enraged me more was Damon's mother actually finding my school and publicly kneeling: "Please spare my son! He just made a momentary mistake!"
Surrounded by "passersby" filming with phones, the video quickly spread across the internet.
Netizens went crazy: "Such a pitiful mother—that honor student is too vicious!"
Standing at the school entrance watching this farce, I wanted to rush over and tear off her hypocritical mask.
But I couldn't.
One impulsive move would earn me another "poor character" label.
The next morning, Mom's scream woke me from sleep.
I rushed out to see our front door splashed with red paint, crooked writing on the wall: "Pay your debts or die."
Mom's legs gave out, Dad's hands shook holding the mop.
"Who did this? Who dares treat us this way?" Dad's voice trembled.
Neighbors poked their heads out, pointing and whispering. I heard them gossiping: "That's the family whose daughter specializes in ruining people..."
My heart was bleeding.
The pain of my past life was vivid—this time I absolutely wouldn't let my parents endure this again.
That afternoon, an anonymous package arrived.
Opening it, my hands shook.
Inside were secretly-taken photos of my father, background showing a disreputable massage parlor.
A note was pressed under the photos: "Want your dad's reputation destroyed?"
Seeing the photos, Dad's face went deathly pale: "Raven, this... this is a frame-up! I've never been to such places!"
Mom saw the photos and completely broke down.
She cried, holding me: "Raven, let's just drop it! We can't fight them! If your father gets slandered, this family is finished!"
I trembled with rage.
My past life's tragedy taught me that mercy toward enemies is cruelty toward oneself.
"Mom, trust me. This time, I'll protect you both."
I didn't retreat. Instead, I turned all this threatening evidence over to police as new charges of witness intimidation against Damon and his family.
But that wasn't enough.
I wanted them to pay a greater price.
I "accidentally" leaked a photo of a fake USB drive on social media, with the caption: "Some things are worth more than fifty million."
Sure enough, within an hour, Damon's father called: "What exactly do you want?"
I sneered: "You know best what you've done."
After hanging up, I began strategizing. Since they wanted to play, I'd play to the end.
I would set a trap to ensure Damon and his family could never recover.
But just as I was preparing to act, my phone rang again.
It was the Legal Evening News reporter: "Besides you, we've found three more new victims. One girl has already jumped to her death after being defrauded by him."
My blood instantly turned ice-cold.
Fifteen victims.
Two already dead.
I looked out the window and clenched my fists.
Damon Cross, this time I'll make you wish you were dead.
End of Raise Your Bastard? Nah, Reborn to Return Your Future Jailbird! Chapter 68. Continue reading Chapter 69 or return to Raise Your Bastard? Nah, Reborn to Return Your Future Jailbird! book page.