In this house, my room had no lock because I wasn’t allowed any privacy.

Stacy stood by my bed, her icy, resentful gaze sweeping over me inch by inch.

Then, suddenly, she laughed.

"Sis, this time, it’s your turn to get bullied by him. To fall into a twisted love-hate relationship with him."

I wasn’t sure if she arranged something in advance, but the next morning, the moment I stepped into Class Thirteen with my backpack, a book came flying straight at me.

I tilted my head slightly and dodged it.

A lazy voice sounded from up ahead.

"Who said you could dodge?"

Nicholas lounged in his chair, legs crossed and propped up on the desk, looking at me with an air of arrogance.

"Forget it, I’ll give you a chance.

"Pick up the book, hand it to me respectfully, and let me throw it again. Then I’ll let you off for the morning."

Hearing his words, my eyelashes fluttered slightly.

I bent down, picked up the book from the floor, and walked toward him, step by step.

The guys standing beside him smirked, their eyes filled with disdain and undisguised malice.

I smiled. "Like this—?"

Without warning, I swung the book, its hard spine slamming viciously into his nose.

"Ahh!!—"

Nicholas shot up from his chair, yelling in pain.

He clutched his nose, blood streaming down his fingers.

Then, suddenly, he flashed me a cold, sinister smile.

"You shameless woman. You dared to hit me? You’re done for."

The guys around him looked furious, ready to close in on me.

Fortunately, at that moment, the teacher walked into the classroom.

"This is our new transfer student, Lucy Lowe. She placed second in the entrance exam. I hope everyone gets along well and learns from her."

"Oh, an honor student."

Nicholas let out a slow, mocking laugh. "Don’t worry, teacher. We’ll make sure Lucy feels right at home."

…

His methods of bullying were nothing new.

The same tired clichés straight out of those overused school drama plots.

Planting thumbtacks on my chair.

Tossing dead snakes and rats into my desk drawer.

I simply removed the tacks.

And when I found the dead snake and rat, I grabbed them without a hint of emotion and threw them right into Nicholas’ lap.

He turned pale with fright.

When he realized these tricks didn’t work on me, he resorted to the most straightforward method—violence.

That afternoon, as school was letting out, I flipped open my math workbook and found a small slip of paper inside.

"They’re planning to take you to the equipment room."

I stared at the note for a few seconds, then crumpled it and tossed it into the trash.

Who wrote it?

In my past life, I heard that Class Thirteen was full of hopeless students who gave up on their studies.

But after transferring here in this life, I realized that wasn’t entirely true.

The students in Class Thirteen were split into two factions.

Aside from Nicholas and his gang of bullies, most of the remaining students were just ordinary kids struggling with poverty or personal hardships.

Their space to study and even exist were nearly crushed under the weight of Nicholas and his followers.

I scanned the sparsely occupied classroom.

Eventually, my gaze landed on a girl sitting diagonally behind Nicholas—Sophie Reed.

The moment our eyes met, she panicked and quickly looked away.

I understood immediately.

Acting as if I hadn’t noticed, I picked up my backpack and stood up.

"Hey… Lucy."

She hesitated for a long time before finally calling out to me.

"We’ll walk home with you after school."

The girls sitting beside her mustered their courage and looked at me, determination flickering beneath their nervous expressions.

I met their gaze in silence for a moment.

I suddenly curled my lips into a faint smile.

"It’s fine. Don’t get yourselves involved."

…

The moment I stepped out of the classroom, Nicholas and his lackeys shoved me into the equipment room at the far end of the field.

Inside, I was met with a painfully familiar face—Stacy.

Nicholas stood beside her, tilting his chin toward me.

"So, this is the so-called sister who thinks she can throw her weight around just because your family owes her a favor?"

"Mm."

Stacy responded indifferently, then added, "But you shouldn’t bully her like this. I don’t want to become someone like her."

She played the part well—stubborn, aloof, and full of self-righteousness.

A far cry from the girl in my past life who once sobbed and begged Nicholas not to break up with her.

She must have learned something after reliving her life—Nicholas was the kind of bastard who only grew more interested when he was ignored.

Sure enough, at her resistance, his gaze softened with a hint of admiration.

Stacy took a deep breath, then sighed as if trying to reason with him.

"Besides, my sister has spent years studying the violin. Her hands are the most valuable thing she has—"

Nicholas cut in with a sneer. "The more valuable something is, the better it looks when it’s destroyed. Don’t you think?"

He waved a hand at the two guys holding me down.

"Do it here. Break her fingers, one by one. I want to make sure she never plays the violin again."

At his words, the air in the room turned suffocating.

A triumphant gleam filled Stacy’s eyes, barely concealed beneath her indifferent expression.

They shoved me roughly toward the parallel bars, grabbing a heavy dumbbell from the floor.

Just as it was about to come crashing down, I spoke.

"Idiots."

"What did you just say?!"

I met Nicholas’ gaze with a smile.

"If I were you, I’d think twice before stirring up trouble at school, especially with the Scott family’s stock distribution hanging in the balance."

His eyes widened in an instant.

I silently counted down in my head.

Three.

Two.

One—

The door to the equipment room burst open with a loud kick.

But the people standing in the doorway weren’t the ones I had arranged.

I turned, momentarily stunned, as I took in the group of girls standing there.

Back in the classroom, I thought that the courage it took for them to speak up was already the most they were capable of.

But I was wrong.

Sophie took a deep breath, clutching the arm of the girl beside her.

In her other hand, she raised an old, battered cell phone.

Her voice trembled, but her determination was unwavering.

"I already called the police."

A dead silence hung in the air for a few seconds.

Then Nicholas let out a laugh.

"Sophie Reed, right? Looks like the lesson I taught you before wasn’t enough. And now you think you can stand up for justice?

"Call the police? Do you have any idea who I am? You really think the cops can do anything to me?"

His cold, mocking gaze bore down on her, and Sophie’s face turned even paler.

But before she could respond, a sharp, authoritative female voice rang out from outside the door.

"If the police can’t handle you, then what about me?"

A woman in a deep blue silk dress stepped into the room, the sharp click of her heels echoing off the floor.

"Nicholas, didn’t I tell you? The family is in a critical period right now. Stay out of trouble."

At the sight of her, all the arrogance drained from Nicholas’ face in an instant.

"…Sister."

Juliette Scott crossed her arms, her expression ice-cold as she stared him down.

"Let her go. Go home."

Nicholas clenched his jaw, unwilling to back down.

"But Juliette, she was the one who—"

"It doesn’t matter. If you want to handle things, use the right methods. And pick the right time.

"Just because I’m stopping you now doesn’t mean I’ll stop you forever."

She was right where I expected her to be.

Juliette was here because of the anonymous letter I sent.

Last month, the Scott family’s patriarch passed away.

The younger generation of the Scott family was at each other’s throats, fighting for the shares left behind by their late patriarch.

At a time like this, even the smallest mistake could be turned into a weapon.

Juliette would never let her brother ruin her plans, but she also wouldn’t take kindly to being used by me.

Before leaving, she shot me an emotionless glance, as if I were nothing more than an ant on the side of the road.

The message in her eyes was clear—once the internal power struggle in the Scott family settled, Nicholas would be free to deal with me however he pleased.

I met her gaze head-on and silently mouthed, “See you next time.”

…

Stacy stared at me for a long moment before suddenly breaking into a laugh.

"Juliette Scott actually showed up here… I see now. You’ve come back from the past too."

She gave me a smug, taunting look.

"But so what? Now, I’m Nicholas’ first love. You’re the one getting bullied. And once the Scott family sorts out their internal mess, let’s see who’s left to save you."

With that, she strutted out, her confidence unshaken.

The equipment room was quiet again, leaving only me and Sophie’s group behind.

"Lucy, since you’re fine, we’ll be heading out first," Sophie said, gripping her old, chipped cell phone tightly.

She forced a weak smile.

"Wait."

I stopped her.

"The monthly exam results came out today. Don’t you have any questions you need help with?"

She froze mid-step, staring at me in disbelief.

"It’s not just you, if anyone in Class Thirteen has trouble with their studies, they can come ask me."

I draped an arm over their shoulders with a smile.

"We’re a team now. And if we’re going to survive here, we need to stick together and help each other improve. Don’t you think?"

In this world, the odds of someone from a rough background climbing the social ladder were nearly impossible—like winning the lottery.

More often than not, people like Sophie and the others, ordinary students from struggling families, neither exceptionally talented nor privileged, had to fight just to survive.

For them, simply making it through each day took everything they had.

And yet, they still had to endure the oppression and humiliation of people like Nicholas.

"But why should they?"

In the dim light of the equipment room, I met their eyes—flickering with a growing spark like embers flickering in the dark.

I looked at them and spoke, enunciating every word.

"This world was never meant to belong to the privileged few. It belongs to us—the ordinary people."

…

The next day, Nicholas didn’t show up at school.

I knew why. The Scott family’s internal power struggle had reached its peak.

He had far bigger problems to deal with than tormenting me, which meant I could take over Class Thirteen’s self-study period without any interference.

The time that Nicholas and his gang would have spent making a spectacle of themselves, disrupting the class and ensuring no one could study in peace became my time.

I got the chance to tutor the others.

In both my past and present lives, I poured everything I had into learning.

I stayed up late, burning the midnight oil to compile key exercises and problem sets.

After printing them out, I distributed them to the class.

They threw themselves into the work, solving problem after problem.

Whenever they got stuck, they noted their questions down, collecting them into a list.

The next day, I would go through each one and explain them in detail.

During this time, Nicholas’ usual lackeys tried to stir up trouble.

They laughed and splattered paint across my neatly written notes on the board, then turned to me with smug, taunting expressions.

"Don’t think you can do whatever you want just because Nick isn’t here. The day he comes back will be the day you’re finished."

At my silent cue, Sophie’s deskmate, a girl named Jenna Smith, quietly walked over and locked both the front and back doors of the classroom.

Then, one by one, the students stood up.

They slowly stepped forward, closing in on the troublemakers.

"You guys still don’t get it, do you?"

I raised my cup, then swung it with full force, smashing it straight into the face of the ringleader.