Karma Strikes Back: Watching My Bully Burn

In my past life, on the morning of my final SATs, I found a man dying on the sidewalk. His heart had stopped. Adrenaline hijacked my brain.

I snatched a stray brick, shattered the passenger window of a parked white Mercedes plastered with an "AED Inside" decal, and dragged the defibrillator out to save his life.

I didn't get a thank you. Instead, the car's owner, Derek, yanked me backward by my collar.

He shoved a phone camera right into my face. "Your grades are trash, so you're pulling this little stunt to skip the test and score a viral free ride to college, right?" The video blew up.

The internet dragged me, branding me a cloutchasing vandal who destroyed luxury property for views.

To pay off Derek's extortionate repair bill, my parents picked up five different minimumwage shifts.

They literally worked themselves into early graves, collapsing on a warehouse floor. I couldn't scream loud enough to make anyone hear the truth.

The crushing debt and the empty house hollowed me out.

I climbed the railing of the bridge, swallowed a lungful of freezing river water, and let the current drag me down into the dark. My lungs expanded with a sharp gasp.

My eyes snapped open. The blazing sun hit my face. The dying man spasmed on the concrete at my feet. The white Mercedes sat intact by the curb. I was back.

This time, I shoved my hands into my pockets, stepped back into the shade, and just watched. Chapter 1 "Somebody help! He passed out!" The familiar scream pierced the air.

My chest tightened so hard I couldn't breathe. In my past life, on my way to take my final SATs, I ran into an old man collapsing from heatstroke.

The CPR training from school kicked in. I didn't think twice. I just rushed over. But his heart had stopped.

The golden window to save him was four minutes, and paramedics were miles away. Then, I spotted it. A white Mercedes parked at the curb.

A massive decal was plastered across the window. [ AED INSIDE. USE IF NEEDED! ] Relief flooded my veins. I sprinted toward the car.

But the owner hadn't left a phone number on the dash. The old man's seconds were bleeding out.

I shoved through the crowd, grabbed a heavy chunk of concrete from a broken planter, and swung it directly at the rear passenger window. Smash.

The tempered glass shattered into a million glittering pieces.

I dragged the defibrillator out, hooked the pads to the man's chest, and kept him alive just long enough for the ambulance sirens to wail in the distance.

The second I turned to grab my backpack and sprint to the testing center, a massive hand clamped down on my collar.

Derek pointed at me, his face red and the veins in his neck bulging. "Everyone, look at this! Look at this little thief!" "Smashing windows and robbing cars in broad daylight!

I've got valuables in there! Who gave you the right?!" Panic spiked in my throat. "No, sir, wait. A man collapsed.

I saw the AED decal on your window, so I—" He cut me off. "Saving a life?! Who are you trying to bullshit?!

Where is this guy you supposedly saved?!" My voice cracked as I pointed down the street. "The ambulance just took him!

They can all testify!" I spun around, pleading with the crowd of onlookers. Instead of backing me up, every single person suddenly found their shoes fascinating.

They averted their eyes. It hit me then—they knew I saved a life, but they also saw me destroy a luxury car. Nobody wanted the liability of getting involved.

Derek's fingers twisted into my hair. He dragged me across the concrete toward the car and slammed my face down against the jagged glass remaining in the window frame.

Warm blood instantly gushed down my cheek. "See this?!" He waved his phone camera around. "A white Mercedes!" "She targets luxury cars!

Look how twisted she is!" I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper. "I have the 911 call log. Check the street cameras. I had to do it to save him…" He didn't care.

He jammed a finger into my shoulder. "Are you a licensed doctor?!" "Can you take the lawsuit if he dies?!

You're just a cloutchaser desperate to go viral!" He spat on the ground near my sneakers. "And what gave you the right to use my property?!" "I don't give a damn about your excuses.

This repair is going to cost at least twenty grand. Pay up, now!" Twenty grand? My stomach dropped. My parents worked grueling minimumwage shifts just to put food on the table.

They wouldn't see twenty grand in two years, let alone right now. But the panic clawing at my throat wasn't just about the money. The SATs. I had already burned too much time.

If I didn't leave right this second, the doors would lock. I forced my shaking hands to stay at my sides. "Sir, please. Can you let me go take my exam?

I will give you a solution the second I finish." I had grinded for three years for this test. It was my only ticket to a full ride, my only chance to pull my parents out of poverty.

Derek scoffed, a nasty smirk twisting his face. "Let me guess.

Your grades are pure garbage." "You knew you'd bomb the test, so you pulled this little 'Good Samaritan' stunt to gamble for a way out?" He crossed his arms. "Kids these days are real clever.

Pulling shady scams like this." "What, hoping some college sees the video and gives you a pity scholarship?

Hoping for some extra credit on your exam?!" Chapter 2 "Full ride" and "extra credit." The words hung in the air. The crowd's collective posture shifted.

Eyes lit up with predatory interest. "Makes sense," a woman muttered. "I was wondering why this kid was rushing so hard to play hero.

She just wanted that college admission bump." "Exactly.

Who in their right mind ditches their SATs just to save a stranger?" My fingernails dug into my palms until the skin nearly split.

In my past life, I had screamed until my throat bled, desperate to make them understand. But Derek hadn't let go. I missed the doors closing for the exam.

I inherited a mountain of debt. My parents bled themselves dry on warehouse floors to pay it off, their bodies giving out before my eyes.

The crushing weight of it all drove me over the edge of that bridge. Then, I woke up. Back on this exact curb.

This time, I shoved my hands into my pockets and stayed perfectly still. A hand shot out from the swelling crowd and clamped around my wrist. "Hey, kid! Do something, he passed out!

Help him!" I stared at the man attached to the hand. My face turned to stone. In my past life, this exact guy was the first one to jump on Derek's bandwagon. "Yeah!

The guy on the ground doesn't even look that bad. Just wait for the ambulance." That was what he had said. "This brat is just trying to skip her test.

If she gets lucky and saves him, she scores a free ride to college.

Hell of a bargain!" His words had been the gasoline on Derek's fire, cementing the narrative that I smashed the window for a calculated stunt. The memory turned my blood to ice.

I yanked my arm back. "Sorry. I don't have time." The crowd bristled.

The air turned thick and suffocating. "What is wrong with you?!" The man stepped into my personal space, his grip tightening like a vise on my forearm. "A man is dying on the concrete and you're just going to walk away?" "How twisted are you?" He anchored his weight, physically blocking my exit. "I'm doing this for your own good!" "Helping out right now builds basic human decency!" He puffed out his chest, high on his own righteous supply.

I let out a dry, humorless laugh. "There are twenty grown adults standing right here. What exactly do you need a high schooler to do?" I shoved at his shoulder. "Move.

I have my SATs." The mention of the exam made a few people flinch. The human wall parted slightly. "Let it go, man," someone mumbled. "She's got her finals.

Don't ruin her day." But the guy holding me didn't back down. His grip shifted. "Absolutely not!" "A human life is way more important than some test!

If her morals are this rotting, going to college won't fix her!" He threw his entire body weight forward and slammed a hand down on my shoulder.

The unexpected force buckled my legs. My knees slammed into the jagged gravel. Blinding, whitehot pain shot straight up my spine.

I gasped, the air punched from my lungs. "Get off me!" I twisted my torso wildly, ripping my shoulder out from under his hand.

My sneakers lost traction on the loose rocks, and I pitched forward, scraping my palms raw against the pavement. The circle closed in around me.

A wall of judgmental sneers. "Unbelievable. Barely an adult and already completely heartless." "What are they even teaching kids in school these days?

Zero basic decency." I tilted my head up. I stared at the ring of faces above me—people wearing masks of righteous concern to cover up their cowardice.

In my past life, when I found the dying man, this exact crowd had already formed. Not a single one of them had stepped off the curb to help.

I was the one who put everything on the line. I was the one who swung the rock to get the AED. And Derek had crucified me for it.

He had meticulously edited the footage and dumped it onto social media. [ Modern students will do anything for a shortcut.

Kid destroys a milliondollar luxury car, and I'm the one getting canceled! What is wrong with our society? ] The algorithm had caught it. The internet had swallowed me whole.

He had even dug up a blurry, leaked screenshot of my high school transcripts, waving it around in a tearjerking reaction video. "Look at this!

Look at her grades!" "Even her homeroom teacher said she's a slacker! She didn't want to save a life!

She was running a calculated scam!" Chapter 3 "Helpful netizens" even dug up photos of my parents working their flea market stall.

The comment section instantly flooded: [ Makes sense. Poverty breeds scum. ] [ Look at her parents. What kind of daughter did you expect?

Smashing cars, stealing—monkey see, monkey do. ] [ Make them pay! Trash families like this don't deserve a future.

Make the kid drop out and work off the debt! ] Since the video of me smashing the window was undeniable proof, and the patient who got hauled off in the ambulance practically vanished into thin air, the court ordered me to pay the repair bill in full.

I tracked down every single bystander. I begged them to testify. Every single door slammed in my face. It was a sick joke.

And now, these exact same people were trying to lecture me about basic human decency. "If you don't back up right now, I'm calling the cops." I locked eyes with the mob, my thumb hovering over my phone screen.

A heavy male voice cut through the noise. "Step aside! Let me through!" I looked up. It was Derek. The owner of the white Mercedes. The man who ruined me.

Adrenaline flooded my veins. In my past life, he ignored my begging. He blocked me from taking my SATs.

He chopped up the footage and threw me to the wolves on the internet, spinning a narrative that I faked a rescue just to dodge the exam.

He was the one who plastered the AED sticker on his window. He was the one who didn't leave a contact number. I only shattered his glass because I was out of options.

But he didn't care about the truth. He only cared about squeezing every last dime out of my family. "She's just a kid. It's normal for her to be selfish.

I'll take over." He pushed his way to the center, playing the saint. The crowd practically parted like the Red Sea. "See? That's a real man right there. Take notes, kid.

If your morals are this rotted, your whole life is going to be a joke!" I kept my mouth shut. My teeth ground together.

Derek knelt down, putting on a big show of checking the old man's pulse before waving a hand dismissively. "He's fine. I'm CPR certified. I got this." A bystander hesitated.

The old man on the concrete was already turning a sickly shade of blue. "But he's been out for a while.

I couldn't even feel a pulse…" Derek patted his chest, projecting confidence. "Don't worry!

I'll keep doing chest compressions until the paramedics get here!" I shifted my gaze to the familiar white Mercedes parked at the curb.

The corners of my mouth twitched up. "Sir, it looks like you have an AED right there in your car." The crowd instantly erupted. "Oh my god, you have a defibrillator in there?

That's amazing, grab it! What are we waiting for?" In my past life, the ambulance showed up barely a minute after I shattered the window and grabbed the machine.

For years, I couldn't figure out why Derek pinned me down so hard. If he actually kept that AED in his car to save lives, he shouldn't have been so psycho about me using it.

It took dying for me to finally understand. He never intended to use that AED in the first place. Chapter 4 Derek's jaw worked, but no sound came out.

I tilted my head. "Sir, are you refusing to use your AED to save a dying man?" The crowd's collective gaze snapped right back to him. "What are you waiting for?!" someone shouted. "Get it out!

Isn't an emergency exactly why you have that thing?" Derek's jaw clenched tight.

His eyes practically bulged out of his skull as he turned on me. "What the hell are you talking about, you little brat?!

When did I say I wouldn't do it?!" I blinked, keeping my expression perfectly blank. "Then why aren't you getting it? The golden window for cardiac arrest is four minutes.

If you stall any longer, he's dead." The crowd surged with sudden, hostile urgency. "She's right! The old guy has been down for a while now.

He's not going to make it!" A guy broke from the circle and yanked on the door handle of the white Mercedes. It didn't budge. "Hey! What are you doing?

Unlock the car!" Derek stayed glued to his spot, paralyzed. In my past life, I could never wrap my head around it.

Why would a guy who went out of his way to install a medicalgrade defibrillator in his luxury car refuse to let me use it? Then the truth finally dropped.

I had saved a supposedly homeless, solitary old man with zero family. A portable AED cost a couple thousand bucks.

Derek bought that machine for one specific reason: to deploy it at the perfect, highprofile moment and play the ultimate hero.

Getting his expensive equipment hijacked and used on an indigent senior citizen with zero ability to reimburse him? That wasn't part of his script.

It made sick sense now—he knew the old man couldn't pay for the shattered glass or the used AED pads. So, he pinned the entire financial ruin on me.

But Derek didn't know the whole truth. That 'indigent' old man was actually a massive deal. After waking up in this timeline, I had scrolled past a buried local news article.

A prominent tech billionaire in the city was offering a massive reward for information on his longlost family member.

The grainy photo attached to the article was a dead ringer for the old man currently turning blue on the pavement. That was why, this time, I had already quietly dialed 911.

Right now, the ambulance was exactly two minutes away. Trapped in the center of the angry mob, Derek's face flushed a deep, ugly magenta.

Cornered, he doubled down. "Why is everyone panicking?!" He threw his hands up. "I told you, his condition isn't that serious!

Keeping up chest compressions is perfectly fine!" A short, cynical laugh escaped my throat. "Do you just think this old man isn't worth wasting your expensive machine on?" The red flush on Derek's neck crept all the way up to his ears.

His voice pitched up an octave, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. "You… you shut your mouth!

Stop trying to turn them against me!" He pointed a shaking finger right at my face. "You're just trying to deflect so everyone forgets you were perfectly happy to let him die two minutes ago!

How twisted is your brain?!" His sudden pivot worked. The crowd's hostility fractured, and a few suspicious glares shifted back to me. My lips pressed into a thin line.

It was the exact same gaslighting playbook from my past life. Back then, the second I smashed his window and saved the man, Derek had practically materialized out of thin air.

He told the cops my windowsmashing technique was "too practiced," claiming I premeditated the whole thing.

He even invented a story about seeing me scouting the street earlier, setting up a fake rescue to scam my way into a free ride for college.

Chapter 5 Seeing me stay silent, Derek straightened up and shouted to the crowd. "Don't let her spin this!

I'm professionally trained in first aid!" He pointed at the man on the ground. "Listen to me.

We keep doing chest compressions until the paramedics get here!" "That AED is complicated.

If I use it wrong, it'll make things worse!" The seconds ticked down. "The golden window for cardiac arrest is four minutes!" a woman yelled. "We're almost out of time!" "Just use the machine in your car!

He's going to die!" "Yeah! Unlock the door!

You can't just stand there and let him die!" Derek plastered his back against the car door, blocking anyone from getting close. "Back off! That machine cost me over three grand!

If you want to use it, show me the cash first!" Just as the tension snapped and a guy stepped forward to smash the glass himself, the wail of sirens cut through the air.

The ambulance screeched to a halt at the curb. "Move! Paramedics coming through!" EMTs shoved through the crowd with a stretcher and heavy jump bags.

A deafening screech of tires ripped through the street. A fleet of black SUVs slammed into park, blocking off the entire lane.

A middleaged man sprinted out, flanked by a massive wall of suited bodyguards who immediately shoved the bystanders back to clear a perimeter. "Dad!

Are you okay?!" Whispers instantly rippled through the stunned crowd. "Is that… Roman?

The tech billionaire?" In my past life, right up until the second I jumped off that bridge, I never knew who I had saved.

But standing right in front of me was Roman, the youngest billionaire in the state. "Doctor! Where is the doctor?!" Roman demanded, his eyes bloodshot.

The lead paramedic was already ripping open the old man's shirt, pulling out monitoring pads. His expression was grim. "He's in full cardiac arrest.

We need to shock him, now!" "Then do it!" Roman snapped. The paramedic shook his head, his hands frantically starting compressions. "We don't have an AED.

The unit in our rig got deployed at our last call. Dispatch is bringing a backup…" "No AED?" Roman slowly stood up.

He swept his gaze over the massive crowd. "All of you standing here watching, and not a single person thought to find a defibrillator?

Do you realize survival drops by ten percent for every minute he doesn't get shocked?!" The street went dead silent. Derek's face drained of all color.

He instinctively shrank back, trying to melt into the crowd. But Roman's gaze had already locked onto the glaring white Mercedes parked right behind him.

Specifically, Roman stared dead at the massive yellow decal plastered across the window. [ AED INSIDE. BREAK GLASS IN EMERGENCY. ] Roman walked toward the car.

His bodyguards cleared a wide, silent path through the crowd. He stopped right at the front bumper.

He slowly turned his head, fixing his cold gaze on Derek. "This car." His voice was horrifyingly flat. "Is it yours?" Derek swallowed hard.

Sweat soaked completely through the back of his dress shirt. "Yeah… it's mine." "There is an AED inside." "…Yes." "Why didn't you use it?" The air turned to concrete.

Every single eye on the street pinned Derek to the pavement. Chapter 6 I stood at the outer edge of the crowd, just watching.

In my past life, I was the one nailed to the pavement by their stares, drowning in accusations with no way out. Now, the tables had turned. Derek's lips trembled.

His eyes darted wildly around the street before locking onto me.

I saw the exact moment the terror in his pupils mutated into a frantic need for a scapegoat. "Her!" He shoved a shaking finger in my direction, his voice cracking. "It's all her fault!

If she wasn't screaming and causing a massive scene, distracting me, I wouldn't have forgotten the AED was in my trunk!" He whipped his head toward Roman, the words spilling out faster and faster as he grasped for a lifeline. "This kid refused to help from the start!

We begged her to save him, but she just ignored us." "She said she had her SATs and didn't have time!

Then, when I stepped up to do CPR, she stood right there throwing insults, asking why I was playing the saint!" He sounded like he was on the verge of hysterics.

If I hadn't lived through my past life, I might have actually bought the performance. "And!" Derek jacked up his volume.

His gaze swept over the bystanders, a blatant, ugly threat settling into his features. "This old man—if I'm right—is your father, Mr. Roman? If the elder Mr.

Roman doesn't make it, not a single person standing here is walking away clean!" The threat hit the crowd like a shockwave. "What?

That's Roman's dad?" "Oh my god… we just stood here and did nothing…" "We're dead…" Cold terror swept through the onlookers.

The same people who were just ripping into Derek suddenly dropped their eyes and shuffled backward. Derek caught the shift.

He puffed out his chest and marched straight up to the guy who had grabbed my shoulder earlier. "You saw it too. This girl refused to help, right? If Mr.

Roman thinks we didn't try our best and it cost his father his life…" All the color bleached out of the guy's face. He looked at me, then at Roman's stonecold expression.

His lips flapped for a second before he mumbled to the pavement. "Yeah… it's her. She wouldn't lift a finger…" That was the spark.

The rest of the cowardly mob instantly caught fire. "Yeah, exactly!

It was her!" "She tried to run away, we had to physically stop her!" "She was talking trash the whole time!" Derek stood in the center of the mob.

A sickening smirk flickered across his mouth.

Roman shifted his gaze to me. "Kid." His voice was a flat, unreadable line. "Is what they're saying true?" Every single eye on the street snapped back to me. Derek's smirk widened.

The bystanders who just sold me out stared hard at their shoes. I tilted my head up. I met Roman's heavy stare. I slipped my hand into my pocket and pulled out my phone.

I unlocked the screen, pulled up my call history, and flipped the display around to face him. "Mr.

Roman," I said, my voice perfectly level. "This is my 911 call log from 8:47 this morning." The timestamp glowed brightly on the glass screen. [ 8:47 AM. ] Right now, it was 8:51.

Chapter 7 The crowd flatlined for a second before exploding. "8:47?

That was four minutes ago!" "But… we just found the old guy…" "Did she know this was gonna happen?" The smugness melted off Derek's face. His eyes bulged at my phone screen.

Then, desperate for a foothold, he pointed at me. "You're lying! How could you know someone was going to pass out four minutes before it happened?

You set this up!" He spun back to Roman, words spilling out like rapid fire. "Mr. Roman, don't listen to her!

She called 911 early so she could dodge her SATs!" "She planned to use this fake rescue as an excuse for being late! She orchestrated this whole thing!" The whispers started again.

Suspicious glares darted my way. How does a high schooler predict a medical emergency four minutes in advance? Roman stayed silent. His dark eyes locked onto me, waiting.

I slid my phone back into my pocket. "I was on my way to take my SATs," I said, my voice dead calm. "When I got off the bus, my chest got incredibly tight.

I felt dizzy." "I called 911 on myself just in case I passed out during the exam.

I didn't expect to walk two blocks and find this gentleman on the pavement." I looked right at Roman. "As for why I didn't step in to help—the crowd already explained that for me.

I had an exam to catch." "Plus, there were much more 'professional' and 'eager' people already on the scene, right?" I shifted my gaze to Derek, then to the glaring white Mercedes behind him. "And this man had a defibrillator sitting right in his car.

Why didn't he use it?" "The patient was clearly in sudden cardiac arrest. The only effective treatment is immediate defibrillation.

For a guy bragging about his professional CPR certification, you sure missed basic protocol." Derek's face cycled from chalkwhite to a sickly green, then flushed a furious red. "I…" He stuttered, his eyes darting everywhere but at me. "I panicked.

I forgot. And… that AED is defective anyway…" I tilted my head. "Defective how?" Derek dug his grave deeper. "The… the electrode pads. They aren't sensitive enough.

I was worried it would malfunction and make things worse…" He was so busy lying to me, he missed Roman's expression turning lethal. "Not sensitive enough?" Roman finally spoke.

The temperature in the air plummeted. "Are you sure?" Derek missed the deadly drop in Roman's tone.

His eyes lit up like he had found a lifeline, and he nodded vigorously. "Yeah, exactly! It's just faulty electronics.

I couldn't risk using a glitchy machine on a dying man…" Roman laughed.

The sound was devoid of warmth. "You are claiming that a defibrillator manufactured by Roman Medical is prone to glitching?" Derek froze. "RRoman Medical?" "The AED in your trunk," Roman said, his voice a flat judgment, "is our flagship product." Chapter 8