"We actually have a great relationship with Dylan. Look! When he was sick and hospitalized back then, we took turns taking care of him."

Accompanying the narration was a video of me, unconscious. I had blood coming out of my *ss.

Although it looked like they were taking care of me, what activities would cause a man to bleed heavily from his backside?

Viewers were all speculating whether I had been assaulted, but my roommates denied it one by one.

"That's impossible. Dylan's really popular and has lots of guy friends he often goes out to eat with."

"He occasionally doesn't stay in the dorm with us. We don't know where he goes, but Dylan's definitely not that kind of person."

"We have no idea about the hospital examination report from that day? Dylan wouldn't let us see it. He just had us take care of him."

Just a few sentences from them pushed me to the center of the storm. Everyone was convinced I was promiscuous.

I laughed in anger. Back then, they had forced me to go swimming in the dead of winter. My backside got cut on the ice, and I nearly bled to death.

At the hospital, they did not take care of me at all. They just waited for me to wake up so I could transfer them money for their meals during the days I was hospitalized.

I never expected them to have recorded a video back then. What cruel beasts they were!

However, viewers would never know the truth. Everyone was convinced I was sleeping around. Some people even found my nude photographs on foreign websites.

This caused an uproar. The school could no longer ignore this matter.

Professor Calcraft came to talk to me and see how I had been doing lately.

He knew my character and knew the group was slandering me, but he could not say much in the face of public opinion.

I handed Professor Calcraft an ice cream, and we watched their livestream together while eating.

"Why are you still watching them?"

Professor Calcraft wanted to turn it off for me, but I stopped him. "Professor, I'm collecting evidence. Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

I wanted to let them ride this high. The higher they rode it, the harder they would crash later.

Professor Calcraft knew I had a plan, so he told me to relax. He would handle the explanation on the school's end.

In the livestream, receiving gift after gift from big spenders, the five of them thanked everyone while continuing to talk about me.

"Dylan's mom is very young. She looks about twenty years younger than Dylan's dad."

"Rich families' wives are just different. Looking at her and then at our moms, we feel really insecure."

Viewers immediately jumped to conclusions.

[Insecure about what? Isn't she obviously a mistress who climbed the ladder?]

[Exactly. No wonder Dylan has such poor character. It's genetic!]

[Mom's a homewrecker, son's a whore. High society is so filthy!]

Facing the comments, all five of them smiled and tried to defend me, but their efforts seemed feeble.

Finally, near the end of the livestream, Ryan said with deep emotion that he believed being assigned to the same dorm was fate. He hoped I could look past everything we had been through together and let bygones be bygones. He asked me to return to the dorm and continue being good friends with them.

The implication was obvious. As long as I returned to the dorm, they would stop releasing damaging material and slandering me.

The viewers did not understand their ulterior motives and were moved to tears. I picked up my phone and reviewed the evidence I had prepared from the beginning.

It was about time. I was preparing to wrap this up.