Chapter 2

I couldn't fight back, or I would face severe punishment—being restrained and given harsh physical discipline.

Afterward, I had to hurt myself and apologize in front of the camera until Arthur nodded in approval.

Remembering those past events, I immediately knelt and started banging my head against the floor in desperation. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have bullied Jake. It's my fault. I deserve to die!"

I kept banging my head and didn't dare stop, even as my forehead bled.

Seeing me continuing, Mom and Dad stood frozen.

It was Mom who couldn't bear it any longer and walked over to try to help me up.

But Jake suddenly started sobbing and said, "Mom, Dad, don't blame Logan. It's all my fault for making him hate me so much that he could even hurt himself."

Dad's face instantly turned dark with anger. "You did nothing wrong. He was the one who bullied you first!"

He came over and pulled me up from the floor. "Stop wasting time here. We have an appointment to pick out clothes. Hurry up."

…

In the mall, I carefully glanced at the clothes in the store, not even daring to touch them.

Dad shot me a look of disdain at my shabby appearance. While pointing at me, he said to the shop assistant, "Pick him out something nice. This is so embarrassing."

The shop assistant held up the size chart and asked, "What size does your son usually wear?"

Mom and Dad simultaneously turned their heads, looking awkward.

They had sent me to the transformation show soon after I was brought back, and I was still wearing the torn clothes from that time.

They had no idea what my size was.

In the end, the shop assistant approached me with a measuring tape. Meanwhile, Jake raised his phone.

In that instant, the scene in front of me shifted.

I was back in that hellish village. My foster father from the show was walking toward me with a cattle prod in his hand, smiling wickedly.

"Don't come near me!" I pushed the shop assistant away in panic.

Everything in my sight blurred, and I ran wildly.

The mannequins in the store now resembled the people who had hunted me down in the village. Each of them glared with malicious intent, holding weapons to torture me.

Mom and Dad were startled by my sudden outburst and moved toward me to grab me.

But in my eyes, these people were demons. To avoid being beaten, I could only run as fast as I could.

Most of the clothes in the store were knocked off the racks, becoming dirty as I trampled them.

Seeing this, the store manager was about to call the police.

Finally, everyone cornered me in the fitting room, and the madness ended.

Dad slapped me across the face with a hard swing. "What's wrong with you?"

My head tilted to one side, and half of my face went numb with pain.

I slowly turned back and looked at Mom's and Dad's faces, which were filled with extreme disgust.

Outside, a crowd of onlookers gathered.

"Which psych ward let this one out?"

"That's so scary. If he's sick, he should stay in the psych ward. Why come out and cause trouble?"

As the criticisms from the crowd grew louder, Mom and Dad hurriedly dragged me out of the store.

…

Back at home, Dad threw me into my room. "You bastard! You did this on purpose to embarrass us, didn't you? Was that your revenge on us? Kneel in your room and reflect!"

I kneeled down smoothly, slightly bowing my waist.

They didn't know that in the show, kneeling was the most basic thing. It wasn't even considered punishment.

I didn't know how much time had passed, but then I heard Jake's voice from outside the door. "Why send him food? He's embarrassed our whole family. Why should he eat? Don't even give him water. He won't starve to death in one night."

I curled up, feeling miserable.

I hadn't eaten for two days since returning from the show.

My stomach was in pain, and I needed to eat something.

I looked around the room and finally found a notebook on the shelf.

Without thinking, I tore out the pages, crumpled them up, and shoved them into my mouth.

My throat scraped painfully, but I was too hungry to care.

The next day, I was woken up by the smell of food outside my door.

Mom and Dad were chatting with someone.

The person asked, "Isn't Logan back home? Why isn't he coming out to eat?"

Mom sighed helplessly. "He must still be in bed. He really has no sense of propriety. I'll go call him out right now."