Reborn for Retribution

Because I didn't give up my seat to an elderly person, I faced online harassment.

My classmates ostracized me.

My teacher canceled my only source of income, a scholarship.

My long-divorced parents slapped me the moment they saw me, demanding to know how they raised such an immoral creature.

Desperate, I sought help from society, only to hear, "Why don't people like you just die?"

I ended my life in despair.

But that was before I was reborn. This time, I refused to be weak. No one would guilt-trip me again.

...

"Get up! Young people these days have no manners. Can't you see I'm elderly and need a seat?"

Those words hit me like a spark.

To meet this sharp-tongued old woman, I woke up at four every morning for a week, staking out this moment. Finally, she showed up.

Just like in my past life, she glared at me. "Young lady, I'm talking to you. What's with pretending you don't hear me?"

Her voice grew louder. "Can't you see I'm mobility-impaired?"

She yanked my earphones out.

Everyone around turned to stare, whispering and pointing.

It was as if wearing my school uniform obligated me to be a hero, or I'd betray the entire nation.

In my past life, I cared too much about their judgmental looks, and it ruined me.

This time, I calmly picked up my earphones, put them back on, and said, "Sorry, my hearing aid ran out of battery. What did you say, ma'am?"

"You... you're..."

"Yep, I'm hard of hearing. In your words, I'm deaf."

Her face flickered with surprise and embarrassment.

"Even so, you should know to respect your elders."

Respect elders? Respect is for decent people, not bullies.

She knew I couldn't hear well, yet she still tried to shame me into giving up my seat.

But her words thrilled me. I'd planned for this moment, terrified she wouldn't follow the script.

I stood up, then launched into a performance-convulsing, foaming at the mouth.

She stumbled back, terrified.

I smirked inwardly. Only magic could defeat magic.

But I wasn't done.

While twitching, I grabbed her pant leg tightly.

"What are you doing? Let go of me!" She panicked, instinctively trying to kick me off.

As if I'd let go after waiting this long.

In my past life, she clung to me, dragging me into a pit of misery.

This time, I'd make her taste that same bitterness.

Right on cue, someone stepped forward.

"Stop it! How could you be so cruel? Don't you know she's sick?"

"Sick? She was fine a second ago! You're lying!"

The young man didn't argue. He simply held up evidence-a pill bottle I'd "dropped" earlier.

It read, in bold letters, "Heart Condition."

I'd used the largest font to ensure everyone saw it.

From there, I didn't need to do much. A bus full of righteous passengers took up my cause.

The driver took me to the hospital.

When the doctor asked what happened, the driver recounted everything. The doctor shot the old woman a disdainful look, probably holding back a scolding only because of her age.

"Doctor, can you make her let go? I can't move like this," She said.

That was enough to set the doctor off. "Ma'am, that's not right. She has a heart condition, and you still demanded her seat?"

"How was I supposed to know she's really sick? Besides, if she's sick, why didn't she say so earlier?" She was clearly nervous but refused to back down.

Her words angered the doctor, but I smiled.

A hidden camera in my clothes had captured her every expression, and it was already streaming to the internet.

Dear netizens, it was time to unleash their keyboard warrior skills.

I even had the perfect headline ready, "Heartless Old Woman Bullies Sick Youth-Is This a Twist of Humanity or a Collapse of Morals?"