I am heading to my job interview when my close friend, Thomas Lang—the same guy who always cautions me about meddling in other people's business—suddenly throws caution to the wind and sprints toward the wrecked limousine.

I instantly realize that Thomas has been reborn, too.

In my past life, Thomas and I were the top two graduates of the finance department, both making it to the final round of interviews at a Fortune 500 conglomerate.

Yet, on the day of the interview, we suddenly came across the CEO, Ruth Gibson, who had just gotten involved in a car crash. I abandoned the interview to save her, while Thomas hurried off to the interview.

In the end, Thomas landed the offer, while I lost my shot at working at the top conglomerate.

I received sympathy from everyone around me. However, Ruth sought me out eventually, and in the spirit of profound gratitude, she presented me with an immediate proposal of marriage.

I became the man who would marry Thomas' superior, achieving incredible status overnight. Meanwhile, Thomas stayed an ordinary worker, perpetually crushed by impossible metrics and corporate pressure.

I was enjoying the heights of my privilege at the annual dinner, standing beside Ruth, while Thomas lurked in the background. He was a miserable face lost among the nameless guests. Consumed by jealousy, he brandished a knife and stabbed me to death right there.

I suddenly open my eyes and realize we are both back at this single, pivotal day of Ruth's accident.

I immediately snapped my eyes wide open when I heard the sound of a screeching, violent collision echoing in my ear. I noticed that a careening truck had smashed directly into a limousine.

It wasn't long before the car door swung open and Ruth Gibson, visibly shaken and deathly pale, fell onto the pavement. A trickle of blood already marked her forehead.

I barely registered the thought of moving when my best friend, Thomas Lang, surged forward from beside me with incredible swiftness.

He deliberately knocked me out of the way, giving me a sharply cautious look as he did so. Then he crouched beside Ruth, asking anxiously, "How are you doing? Is everything alright?"

He then turned to me and yelled, "You should head over to the interview now so that you won't be late, Calvin! I'll stay and deal with everything here since the situation is quite critical!"

I distinctly caught the suppressed surge of triumphant glee hidden in his gaze, even though he looked rather worried and distressed on the surface. I immediately realized that he had been reborn as well. I smiled faintly at him and said, "I'll leave it to you, then, Thomas."

Thomas turned to look at me in disbelief. "Why aren't you helping her? You saved her in our past—"

Having realized what he had said, Thomas suddenly fell silent, cutting himself short.

I still fully comprehended the statement he had been about to make, though. I didn't spare him another glance. I pivoted and strode into Zenith Group Tower. I then proceeded into the conference room for the interview, experiencing a calm and quiet assurance unlike any I had ever felt previously.

I noticed that the lead interviewer was Emma Judd, Zenith Group's Investment Director—a woman notoriously known as "The Director of Dread".

Emma adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses, her eyes drilling into me. "You're Calvin Jenner, one of the two top talents from Eastlake University's Finance Department, right? You should take a look at this business case and analyze it."

She then pushed a file toward me and continued, "It is a case about an established manufacturer that has suffered a massive blow from a rapid-growth internet competitor, losing a staggering 70% of its market share over the last three years. It now stands near bankruptcy.

"How would you recommend we proceed with this if you were in our Strategic Investment Department?"

I pondered for a moment, then stated confidently, "I advise against a full takeover. Instead, we should opt for a targeted capital injection alongside a cooperative partnership, Ms. Judd."

Emma remained silent for quite some time before a sudden smile appeared on her face. "You are to report to my office tomorrow, Calvin. You'll be joining us as a strategic analyst reporting directly to the director."

Emma and I exchanged a glance and smiled knowingly.

In my past life, I had missed the interview because I chose to help the victim, thereby forfeiting my access to Zenith Group and my passion for finance. In this life, I was absolutely determined not to let a single opportunity slip away.

I had just stepped out of Zenith Group Tower when a black limousine eased past me. Its window rolled down, revealing Thomas in the back seat while Ruth's assistant tended to him with utmost respect.

Thomas met my gaze. A cold sneer of contempt twisted his features, overlaid with undisguised triumph. He seemed to be silently declaring, "You made your choice, Calvin, and ultimately, you still came up short."

I held his gaze calmly, then averted my gaze, ignoring him completely.

Thomas, even with this second chance, remained willfully blind, as his windfall was my downfall.

I recognized that any blessing that seemed too easy was typically nothing more than lethal poison concealed beneath a sugary exterior.

On my first day as an official employee of Zenith Group, I was assigned directly to the problematic project that Emma had asked me about in the interview. Emma granted me significant autonomy, practically placing all the central decision-making responsibility for the entire endeavor in my control.

I leveraged my formidable expertise to move swiftly and assuredly through the entire process, from vetting potential collaborators and setting contractual terms, to establishing the new brand's market identity.

In just less than a month, the project had already yielded significant preliminary results.

Emma specifically commended me three separate times during the course of the weekly meeting. She even declared, "You were clearly meant for this line of work, Calvin!"

I acknowledged her praise with a slight smile and silence, thinking that I was indeed meant for this line of work. In my past life, had it not been for Ruth, I would have been standing exactly where I was now, rather than being confined within that gilded cage.

Just as my professional life surged forward, Thomas began posting constant updates on his social feed.

He posted pictures agonizing over a new watch purchase, then boasted about a custom sports car gifted by Ruth. Later, he shared an overhead photo taken from his private jet en route to see the Aurora Borealis.

There were plenty of comments and likes on his posts, with most of them from our former classmates back at Eastlake University.

"You're marrying into wealth, Thomas! Zenith Group is in the Fortune 500! Their assets must be worth hundreds of billions of dollars!"

"That's impressive, Thomas! You've basically hit the jackpot!"

There was even someone who tagged me in the comment section, asking, "Where are you working right now, Calvin? You and Thomas used to be inseparable back then!"

Thomas hurriedly replied, "Calvin is working at Zenith Group, my future wife's company. He's far more career-driven, unlike me, who's just coasting around."

I could instantly sense his humble-bragging in the comment. I merely stared at my phone and, with a flat expression, scrolled right past his post.

….

It was the class reunion a week later. I arrived to find the private room packed, with everyone fervently talking about Thomas and Ruth.

"Thomas really lucked out! He hit the absolute jackpot!"

"I know, right? I envied Calvin when he landed the job at Zenith Group, but I never would have guessed that Thomas would end up with the CEO of the company! I mean, no matter how smart Calvin is, he's still just an employee under Thomas' thumb!"

It was then that someone yelled, "Calvin has arrived!"

In that instant, everyone in the private room turned their attention to me. Their looks held pity, regret, and a definite streak of schadenfreude.

Thomas and I had once been the top two talents of Eastlake University's Finance Department.

Now, Thomas was poised to become the husband of the CEO of Zenith Group, while I merely became a new hire on their payroll.

It was then that one of my close former classmates waved me over, saying, "Have a seat here, Calvin."

I had barely taken my seat when the private room's door swung open. Thomas walked in, beaming, with his arm firmly around Ruth's waist.

In that instant, everyone in the room fell silent before bursting into loud applause and cheers.

"That's got to be Ms. Gibson herself! There is something so captivating about her!"

"How could you be so inconsiderate, hiding such a major thing from us all this while, Thomas?"

Thomas smiled smugly, basking in the attention of the crowd. He then walked over to me, pulled out a chair, and settled down, behaving as if there had never been any tension between us. "You must have been exhausted from work lately. You look like you've lost some weight, Calvin."

He fixed me with a look of deep, profound pity, adding, "You see, Ruth won't even let me lift a finger, so I've been idling at home, almost going stir-crazy!"

He then gently patted Ruth on the shoulder, saying, "You should cut my friend some slack, Ruth! How could you give Calvin so much work? You can't run your employees into the ground like this, even if you are management!"

Thomas' so-called concern was nothing but a blatant display to show off the fact that he was the CEO's boyfriend, while reducing me to an overworked, entry-level grunt.

I looked over at him, and he just so happened to unintentionally raise his wrist and look at his watch, a limited-edition which sparkled brightly under the lights. "Why bother grinding like that, Calvin? You ought to know that getting yourself a powerful backer beats everything else!"

Thomas' statement was instantly followed by a chorus of voices chiming in with support.

I ignored him completely, shifting my attention to Ruth, who had been a compliant prop in his performance. She maintained a faint, courteous smile. I, however, noticed that the smile was merely a facade. Her gaze remained hollow, like that of a puppet without a soul.

I even sensed a subtle, creeping chill emanating from her very presence—one carrying the unsettling signature of death itself.

In my past life, I only became aware of this disturbing strangeness after getting engaged to Ruth. In this life, I recognized the signal immediately.

It was then that Thomas suddenly took out an exquisite invitation from his suit pocket. He handed it to me, saying, "Ruth and I are getting engaged next month, Calvin."

He then flashed a strained, insincere smile, adding, "You were my closest friend back in our university days after all, so you should be there to witness my joyous occasion."

I took the exquisite, black-and-gold invitation and unfolded it, noting that the engagement banquet was scheduled to be held at the Gibson residence, and the time was 12:00 am. I lightly ran my fingers over the printed letters as I read them.

It was such bizarre timing, yet Thomas, completely intoxicated by the prospect of instant wealth, remained oblivious to the whole thing. I was well aware that 12:00 am was when malevolent energy reached its peak.

In my past life, my engagement banquet had taken place here as well, at this same eerie timing. I merely assumed it was an odd tradition of the wealthy back then. It was only later that I finally grasped what that engagement banquet truly signified.

I thought to myself, "Do you truly believe that was an invitation to a celebration, Thomas?"

I looked up, locking eyes with the smug anticipation shining in Thomas' gaze. I said with a smile, "I'd be delighted to. I wouldn't miss a big occasion like this for the world!"

…

I arrived early at the Gibson residence on the day of the engagement banquet. I drove down a narrow, deeply shaded path, which opened onto a huge, imposing mansion. I stepped out of the car, and a sudden, chilling wind swept over me, carrying the unmistakable stench of something decaying.

Thomas also invited a few other close friends from his university days. They all seemed a bit spooked as they took in the surroundings.

"Why is this place giving off such an eerie vibe, Thomas?"

"Why would you hold the engagement banquet here? Why are there so many white candles all around, Thomas?"

Thomas was sitting on the couch in the lounge in a crisp white tuxedo, his face alight with unchecked anticipation and smugness.

He waved away his friends' concerns with a casual dismissal, saying, "You guys wouldn't get it. You ought to know that this is considered classy. The Gibson family has been around for centuries, so they're all about traditions.

"Ruth told me that this is their family's most sacred ceremony, which must take place in the ancestral mansion to receive the ancestors' blessings."

Thomas' explanation was enough to quell the unease of his naive friends. Their initial fear instantly dissolved, replaced by a surge of obvious envy.

"I get it now! I guess wealthy families are just built differently!"

"You really scored big this time, Thomas! Ms. Gibson treats you so well!"

I remained seated, watching Thomas bask in the adulation, his face brimming with expectations.

I was certain that he probably thought that he would become the Gibson family's legitimate son-in-law, rising without hindrance and never again being underestimated. He was completely unaware of the horror that awaited him, though.

In the meantime, as the night deepened, the surroundings of the mansion grew eerily still, save for the dry, scraping sound of leaves moved by the breeze. There was no sign of a lively banquet, just white lilies and white candles flickering quietly in the courtyard.

Thomas' friends were no longer smiling. Their faces had gone pale as they huddled nervously together.

Thomas alone remained lost in the beautiful delusion he had constructed.

It was at that precise moment that the antique clock mounted on the wall began its fateful chime, announcing the 12th hour. The chimes rang hollow and far, as though they had traveled from another realm.

Then, the officiant, dressed in dark formal wear and sporting a completely impassive expression, stepped forward. He declared in a flat, uninflected voice, "It is the appointed time now. I now present Ms. Gibson."

Those present immediately turned their attention to the corridor leading from the hall. Thomas, too, looked in that direction with eager anticipation, straightening his bow tie as if ready to receive his fiancee.

Ruth emerged, still clad in her signature black corporate attire, her expression utterly glacial. She wasn't holding an engagement gift. Instead, she held a black memorial plaque.

There was a name etched plainly on the center of the plaque, standing out starkly—Ruby Gibson. There was also a blown-up memorial portrait right next to the memorial plaque, and the woman in the photo looked identical to Ruth.