<
After rebirth, I fainted live at the gate of the military camp
I was livestreaming, chatting with my followers as I walked, forcing a weak smile at the camera
before my vision swam, and I felt myself slowly, inevitably, go down.
Amidst my followers‘ frantic calls for help, a uniformed officer, gun at the ready, appeared in
everyone’s view.
I confidently collapsed onto the sturdy chest of the officer.
In my previous life, my mentor, Dr. Silas Vance, had stolen crucial experimental data, selling it to a rival nation. Yet, the surveillance footage showed *me* as the last person to enter and leave.
Two minutes after I left, a fire erupted, causing the lab building to explode and incinerate all
evidence.
Sleeping soundly in my dorm, I had no one who could provide an alibi.
Convicted of arson, causing significant property damage, I was sentenced to life imprisonment and eventually died in a prison brawl.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the fire.
If he could fake surveillance evidence against me, then I would use irrefutable proof to rip off his deceptive mask.
Without me as his scapegoat, how would he ever convince the university to swallow hundreds of
millions in losses?
- 1.
I livestreamed for half an hour straight. Without any filters, my face was visibly pale.
The chat feed had shifted from: “Audrey’s genuinely a PhD, her ideas are so advanced!”
“Holy crap, her method could solve my current technical problems!”
To: “Audrey, do you researchers ever exercise? You’re breathing so heavily!”
AA
t
C
2:13 pm P p p
<
“Audrey, I know this path. Just a few more steps, there’s a federal facility ahead, go ask for help! You
look like you’re about to pass out.”
“Mom, help! Someone’s about to collapse on my screen!”
I looked up, weakly gazing at the screen, my forehead visibly drenched in cold sweat.
“Yeah, I don’t feel so great. Might be low blood sugar, I’m so sorry.”
The comments scrolled thick and fast: “No, no, no, Audrey, don’t talk! Someone save her!”
“Officer! This citizen needs serious help!”
Finally, I saw the gates of the facility. I mustered all my strength, sped up a few steps, and stumbled past the yellow warning line.
“Hold it right there! What are you doing?!”
The officer at the gate, gun in hand, immediately went on high alert, seeing someone holding a selfie device walk directly into the restricted area.
I kept my head down; the camera could capture my pale face and half–closed eyes, but the officer
couldn’t see them.
To him, an unknown individual was ignoring his warnings and barging into the base. One officer raised his weapon, while another called for backup and cautiously approached me.
Until I crashed heavily into him, then softly collapsed to the ground.
I squinted at the time: 9:48 PM. Seven minutes until the fire.
I gasped, a tense knot in my chest suddenly loosening, my consciousness instantly fading.
I felt someone shaking me. I struggled to open my eyes, unable to make out the face in front of me. I tried to speak as loudly as I could, but the sound was barely a whisper until he leaned his ear close to my mouth.
“I’m sorry… I’m not a bad person… I’m still livestreaming, could you… turn it off for me?”
The last image on the livestream was the officer’s cap.
2:13 pm P P P
<
My consciousness receded, and I saw my past life.
Waking up to my blankets being ripped off and being dragged out of bed while still half–asleep–that was the nightmare that haunted my past life.
Dressed in thin pajamas, surrounded by a group of police officers and university officials, repeatedly questioned in harsh tones about why I started the fire, all I could do was offer a weak, helpless “I didn’t.” Nothing more.
My hands were clamped in cold handcuffs, and I felt as though my entire life had been locked away.
During my days and nights in prison, I replayed countless scenarios. The best possible explanation was that the fire was caused by a short circuit, not intentional arson, meaning I wouldn’t be sentenced
so severely.
But I couldn’t prove it wasn’t me who was last in and out of the lab.
The surveillance clearly showed me entering and exiting the building, and the lab’s access card records were under my ID. The evidence was so solid, it could crush me.
It wasn’t until a year later, when my former mentor was teaching in the States, and the research he
published was built directly upon my core technology, that I finally understood the truth.
The fire wasn’t meant to destroy anything; it was meant to cover something up.
And now, without my unwitting cooperation, who else could help him pull off this clandestine data
swap?
- 2.
