Part 3My Nemesis Thinks I'm Dead

After giving Leo a good scolding, I went back to my room.

Maybe it was because Lucas's name had been brought up so many times today.

The moment I lay down on my bed, my mind uncontrollably started replaying my high school years.

But for some reason, almost all the memories I could recall prominently featured Lucas.

Undeniably, he truly left a "heavy, colorful stroke" on my high school life.

But there was a brief period when our relationship actually softened.

It was the second semester of our junior year.

Our homeroom teacher, Mr. Yang, was diagnosed with cancer and was in his second week of hospitalization.

While I was getting some fresh air on the roof, I heard a group of guys smoking and chatting in the corner.

"Did you hear? Old Yang has terminal cancer."

"Really?" His tone was gleeful. "Serves him right!"

"He confiscated three of my phones! He even called my parents to complain, and I got the beating of a lifetime!"

"Exactly, he's done so much petty, annoying crap, he finally got his karma."

"I hope he dies soon, I can't wait."

My face darkened, and I started walking toward them.

Mr. Yang was strict, but he was a genuinely good teacher.

He would use his own money to buy school supplies for students struggling financially.

When a student was facing domestic abuse, he did home visits every single day for a month to protect them.

On snowy winter mornings, he was always the first to arrive at school, turning on the heat in the classrooms, and clearing the snow from the hallways by himself...

So, a good teacher like him shouldn't be cursed so viciously.

But before I could even reach them, I heard a scream.

Rounding the corner, I saw the guys brawling. Lucas was taking on three of them by himself, and he was clearly winning.

He shoved a filthy, stinking rag into one of the guys' mouths.

"Your mouth is so dirty, I'm cleaning it for you!"

Right. Lucas was one of the underprivileged students Mr. Yang had sponsored.

The commotion eventually drew the attention of nearby teachers.

There were no security cameras on the roof, so as a witness, I was called to the office too.

The guys' faces were bruised and swollen.

I stared quietly at Lucas for a few seconds, then raised my hand and pointed at the others.

"Teachers, they started it, and they were insulting Mr. Yang."

Lucas looked up in shock.

I didn't meet his gaze.

Because I was terrible at lying, my hands were shaking nervously behind my back.

Lucas couldn't help it; he let out a laugh.

For a long time after that, our relationship was actually okay.

At most, we'd exchange a few sarcastic remarks when we saw each other.

It was practically harmonious.

But later, our relationship deteriorated rapidly again...

Ding-dong.

A sudden notification sound pulled me from my thoughts.

I picked up my phone to check.

It was a Facebook notification.

[You haven't been here in a while! Come see who sent you a message!]

I froze, and as if possessed, I clicked on it.

I hadn't used Facebook in a long time. Most of my friends on there were from middle and high school.

After refreshing for a few seconds, a flood of messages popped up.

Over the years, quite a few classmates had actually sent me messages.

Most were generic holiday greetings, with a few scattered ones asking how I was doing.

I scrolled through, picking a few to reply to.

Just as I was about to exit, a red notification dot suddenly appeared at the very top.

I froze.

Who is sending me a message right now?

I scrolled to the top, and Lucas's name jumped out.

The message he sent... was a little creepy.

[If there's a next life, I will definitely tell you I love you sooner.]

I let out a shriek and practically threw my phone across the room.

Either my phone was possessed, or Lucas had suffered a traumatic brain injury!

What kind of garbage is he sending?!

Still shaken, I grabbed my phone again.

I clicked into the chat, frowning and thinking hard for a long time.

Then, it hit me.

He probably still doubted Leo's story, so he decided to use this disgusting, cheesy line to test if I was really dead.

Realizing this, I couldn't be bothered to reply to him.