Chapter 3: Scandal and Showdowns
Only when she couldn’t cram in any more did she snap out of it, collapsing on the ground and vomiting uncontrollably.
This bizarre scene made Roy both scared and disgusted. As Marlene crawled toward him in embarrassment, Roy slapped her twice.
Blood mixed with manure spewed from Marlene’s mouth as she vomited.
June told me later that a voice in her mind said, as long as they didn’t do what I wrote, she could make the punishment start.
The so-called punishment was to make the scene repeat until they completed the instruction.
This is the power my sister and I are bound to after our rebirth.
I am the writer. My sister is the punisher.
As long as I write an instruction in the notebook, Marlene and Roy have to obey.
If they don’t, they’ll suffer my sister’s punishment.
When we first discovered this system, my sister and I were overjoyed.
If we could just order Marlene and the other culprits who bought and sold kids to turn themselves in at the police station, wouldn’t everything be solved?
But when I wrote that instruction in the notebook, the handwriting vanished automatically.
At the same time, an alarm sounded in June’s mind, and she got a warning from the system. It was like a siren going off in her head, sharp and cold.
Turns out, that kind of instruction was judged by the system as "overstepping authority" and couldn’t be carried out.
I realized I could only control their daily behavior within the town, and couldn’t make them leave.
After countless experiments, June and I figured out:
This "Punishment Journal" could only issue instructions to those who directly hurt me in my previous life—not everyone in the town.
If we wanted Marlene and the others to pay the price they deserved, we’d have to take it step by step.
Once we understood this, we stopped being anxious.
After all, being able to personally set the trap and send these monsters to hell is satisfying in itself.
Seeing Marlene’s miserable state, June and I exchanged a look, feeling a weight lift from our chests.
Next, Marlene boiled a big bucket of hot water and finally managed to wash the manure off herself.
Of course, the filthy clothes she took off were still thrown to me.
I said nothing and found a chance to hide in the woodshed and take out the notebook again.
Marlene, as if possessed, grabbed the manure-covered clothes and threw them in Roy’s face.
So the belt, which was almost always used on me, landed on Marlene for the first time.
Listening to her shrill screams, I calmly lay on my bed.
But this isn’t enough—not nearly enough.
A whipping is just the appetizer I’m serving to Marlene.
The humiliation June and I suffered in our past life, I’ll make them pay for, one by one.
That night, under my instruction, Marlene knelt by the river washing clothes until late at night.
I know how cold that river water is.
In my previous life, the chilblains on my hands merged into patches. Because I couldn’t take it and cried and begged, Marlene grabbed my hands and shoved them straight into the woodstove.
My hands, already numb from the cold, couldn’t even feel pain.
Seeing my burned hands, I cried in terror and helplessly grabbed a handful of fireplace ash to cover them.
Now... it’s time for Marlene to experience what chilblains and belt marks feel like.
Guarding the punishment notebook in the wall, I lay at ease on the pile of firewood and closed my eyes to sleep.
Yeah, the woodshed is my bedroom.
A hard pile of firewood covered with a layer of straw and an old quilt so threadbare the stuffing pokes out—that’s my bed.
The wooden bed inside, covered with three quilts and an electric heating pad, naturally belongs to their "golden boy."
But knowing that it’s June sleeping there now, I feel a little better.
The night was pitch black. Exhausted, I fell asleep.
In my dream, it felt like a snake was slithering over my body.
From my arm to my chest, then to my lower abdomen, and between my legs…
The sensation became more and more real, and I woke up with a start to see a shadow kneeling in front of me.
A cold, rough hand had already undone my clothes…
By the dim light, I saw the person’s face clearly.
It was Roy Barker! My stepfather!
That monster!
My whole body tensed, cold sweat breaking out on my back.
Instinctive fear made me freeze for a moment, and all the dark memories of my past life flooded my mind.
"Help, help…" I screamed at the top of my lungs.
That voice was like a fire alarm in the night, sharp and shrill.
Of course I knew—even if the neighbors heard, no one would come to save me.
Just a girl, given food and raised, should be grateful.
Even grown up, being used to "relieve" and "keep the family going" for the town’s men was seen as natural.
Roy Barker is my stepfather, so of course he has no sense of decency.
In fact, no one in the town does.
But I’m not the girl from my past life, who was slaughtered at will, nor Marlene’s daughter who passively accepted her fate.
I screamed, pulled out a sharp stick from under the quilt, and while Roy was unprepared, stabbed his hand hard.
Roy cried out in pain, furious and humiliated, and reached to hit me.
I gripped the sharp stick tightly, showing no mercy as I jabbed toward his eye.
Roy probably never expected his always docile and beaten-down stepdaughter to suddenly fight back like her life depended on it, and was stunned for a moment.
But after all, he was a grown man, much stronger than me.
He kicked me to the ground.
Cussing, he left the woodshed to look for the belt.
I took the chance to bolt the shed door and quickly ran to the wall hole to get the "Punishment Journal."
Even though I hated Roy to the core, I couldn’t just kill him outright.