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Days became stable and mundane.
Entering October, Ginny began to adapt to life at Hogwarts.
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Classes, meals, the library.
On weekends, she would fly on broomsticks with Luna, discussing wizarding world folklore and engaging in peculiar and foolish experiments.
Or she would explore "safe" areas around the castle with Ricky, observing disgusting little insects.
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The people she didn't like gradually became like air to her.
They lived in a parallel world that had nothing to do with her.
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Ginny no longer let their deliberate provocations bother her.
She accepted her limitations and became more careful about her own safety.
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But it was only when she happened to pass by the "Wall of Fame" and looked at the glittering names on it that she would be reminded of her "ambitions" and feel a faint ache in her heart.
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The Wall of Fame was filled with trophies and medals, representing the outstanding students in the history of Hogwarts.
A dense and extensive history that overwhelmed the senses.
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"Leadership" -- the most important quality listed in the selection criteria.
In Hogwarts, the highest achiever academically didn't automatically become the Head Boy or Head Girl.
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And good scores in the Wizarding Examinations didn't necessarily guarantee significant recognition once they entered society.
The wizarding world wasn't like the Muggle world, where "universities" provided scholarships for bookworms to pursue their research.
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If you wanted to conduct academic research or write a book, you had to find a way to fund yourself or seek sponsorship.
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So "leadership" held greater importance in Hogwarts than grades.
Having "friends" was crucial to becoming a leader.
If you had no friends and came from a financially disadvantaged background, even if you had excellent grades, you wouldn't have access to resources or good job opportunities after graduation.222Please respect copyright.PENANAk0Yg8lG0dE
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Even if you managed to get into the Ministry of Magic, there would still be a vast difference in the quality of assignments and treatment you could receive.
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"I, always mingling with the 'misfits,' am drifting further away from the goal of becoming a prefect." Ginny sighed in her heart every time she passed by that wall.
Luna and Ricky both came from wizarding families, and they were only children as well.
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Luna could assist her father's magazine after graduating, while Ricky was eager to expand his parents' research in magical creatures.
With clear goals in mind, they only came to Hogwarts to understand the lives and perspectives of "normal people."
They weren't stressed about academics and didn't want to "conform."
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But Ginny was different.
She hadn't figured out what she wanted to do in the future yet.
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She just had a vague sense that she had missed out on something many people were striving for.
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In Herbology class, as Ginny sprayed water on the Mandrake plants, she couldn't help but feel a bit down seeing the joyful atmosphere of other Gryffindors next to her. She forced herself to focus on wiping the leaves, paying attention to every vein as if she wanted to memorize each one.
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Beside her, Ricky suggested, "How about we visit that big guy over the weekend?"
Ginny snapped out of her thoughts and asked, "Big guy?"
Ricky replied, "Yeah, the gamekeeper next to the Forbidden Forest."
Ginny said, "Oh, you mean Hagrid."
Ricky nodded and hesitantly requested, "Yeah, I wanted to apologize to him for the last time... you know..." He looked embarrassed.
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Ginny's eyes darted around anxiously, thinking, "Ricky and Hagrid have slightly different versions of what happened. I can't let them start talking!"
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She quickly came up with an excuse and said, "Uh... he's a friend of my brother's, but I... well, I don't really like him. He can be a bit rude."
She felt a strong sense of guilt toward Hagrid.
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Ricky casually replied, "Oh, I see."
It was just a passing remark from him.
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Ginny carefully observed his expression and thought, "Thank goodness he didn't press further."
She let out a sigh of relief.
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After returning to the castle and bidding farewell to Ricky, Ginny couldn't resist being drawn to the "Wall of Glory" again.
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She had already found the names of her brothers, but she wondered if there were any other ancestors from the Weasley family on the wall.
As she looked back year after year...222Please respect copyright.PENANALD8bZVuksC
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"Tom Riddle."
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This name appeared in many places. Head Boy, Prefect, Special Contributions, Off-campus competitions... and he was also a Slytherin.
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Ginny thought, "This is too coincidental, isn't it?"
She took out her diary from her bag.
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The date on the cover was also from around that time.
Ginny couldn't help but think, "Was this diary created its setting based on a real person?"
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She went to the library to find out what had happened to the "real" Tom Riddle.
She searched for several hours, even skipping dinner, but found nothing.
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Tom Riddle seemed to have disappeared into thin air after graduating.
It was highly unusual.
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The wizarding community in Britain is a small circle, and everyone is connected as alumni.
Even the smallest events would make the news, let alone someone as outstanding as Tom Riddle.
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Ginny stared at Tom Riddle's handsome graduation photo from 1945 for a while.
She decided that tonight, she would share this strange occurrence with her diary.
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She thought, "It must have been some infatuated witch who created Tom. This diary was probably about her secret admiration for Tom or something. Well, it's normal for someone so handsome to have that kind of attention."
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Shortly after leaving the library, a question emerged from nowhere:
How did Tom know Hagrid?
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She happened to stop at the spot where she was attacked by Eugene earlier.
She carefully recalled:
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Ricky didn't know Hagrid's name, and she had never mentioned Hagrid to Tom before.
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Ginny took a deep breath,
Blood rushed to her head, and her heart pounded fiercely.
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She calmly said to herself:
"What are you doubting? How many times has Tom saved you?"
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"Is something this good just falling into your hand?" she splashed cold water on herself in heart.
"But what does Tom want from me? What could he possibly gain from me?" she countered.
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"Tom is clever, isn't he? How can you be sure there isn't a real person behind him?"
"Who would go to such boring lengths to monitor my thoughts and protect me from expulsion?"
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"He's a Slytherin! A disgusting, over sixty-year-old man!" Ginny thought, but then Tom's handsome graduation photo flashed in her mind, negating that thought.
"Why would someone so outstanding do such things?"
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"Is it because of the Malfoy family? Maybe this is part of their plan to mess with you?"
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That's too far-fetched.
Ginny knew that when you suspect someone, everything they do seems suspicious.
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Tom was her only true friend.
A real friend who would never betray her.
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The more Ginny insisted on this, the deeper her heart sank into an icy abyss.
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---------
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On a hot summer day, Tom watched the Riddle family.
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In that evening, he stood outside the window, overlooking the beautifully manicured garden lawn. Using the wand he had bought on the black market, he cast a charm on the glass that made everything look "normal" from the inside.
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Tom immediately recognized his father, as well as his grandparents. They sat together, enjoying a cozy dinner, with peaceful smiles and conversations about everyday life.
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The sounds of their voices turned into noise in Tom's ears.
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He had dreamed of such a scene for a long time, ever since he was a child watching other families. He had always dreamt of a world where there would be a place for him, with people who loved him.
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They wouldn't have to worry about making a living, there would be no arguments or comparisons. Their conversations would solely be for expressing care and unwavering support.
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For a moment, Tom even considered using magic to manipulate their memories, so this family would accept him as their "grandson." And when he opened the door and walked in, he would receive their welcome, greetings, and hugs. But that would only make him more pathetic.
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Now he understood why his mother had resorted to such unrealistic measures, ultimately meeting her lonely demise in the orphanage.
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He was a product of a beautiful dream, a witch's fantasy about Muggles. But no matter how much they resembled each other on the outside, they were two different beings, two people from different worlds.
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Rustling...
There was the sound of someone walking on the grass behind him.
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Tom turned around alertly, and it was Dumbledore.
He wiped away the tears from his face.
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"I couldn't find you at the orphanage, so I guessed you would come here," Dumbledore explained.
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In Tom's mind, he thought, "He must have sent someone to keep an eye on me... afraid that I would reveal something..."
But he didn't say it out loud. He wasn't in the mood to argue with Dumbledore. He turned his gaze back to the window, tormenting himself.
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"Muggles, fascinating creatures, aren't they?" Dumbledore seemed to be trying to find words to comfort him. He walked up to him and gazed together with him.
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"In a dangerous world, they live in ignorance, unaware of their own happiness."
Tom had composed himself and was ready to leave with Dumbledore. He waited for him to finish speaking.
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"By the time they reveal their cruelty and brutality, it's too late..." Dumbledore sighed.
Tom found these words strange and turned to look at the person beside him once again.
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He had transformed into an enigmatic figure with heterochromatic eyes and a weary smile:
Gellert Grindelwald!
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Tom was stunned, and he instinctively thought about reaching for his wand but stopped himself. He had no chance of winning against the most powerful dark wizard in all of Europe.
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"Smart boy," Grindelwald praised him with a smirk, acknowledging Tom's give up on restraint.
"It feels good to have Dumbledore by your side, doesn't it?" Grindelwald mused to himself.
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"He sure knows how to encourage people, always saying: You're definitely capable. It's all for a greater purpose. Don't give up..." Grindelwald's lips still smiled, but his eyes were filled with deep sadness.
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Tom even felt a hint of vulnerability from him.
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"I've been observing you for quite some time, especially the Chamber of Secrets incident," Grindelwald continued. "You did well. I have high hopes for you. You're destined to do great things."
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Tom didn't know how to proceed, so he asked, "So, what do you want?"
He guessed it might be about the Chamber of Secrets as well.
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Grindelwald replied, "I'm not here to rob you."
He smiled and took out a ring from his pocket.
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Tom blinked and recognized it. It was his uncle's ring, who had tried to attack him, prompting Tom to knock him unconscious.
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"What a beautiful gemstone, isn't it?" Grindelwald looked at the stone with some fascination. "Dumbledore will surely love it."
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Tom didn't know how to respond. In his mind, he whimsically thought, "So, you came to steal my uncle's ring and give it to Dumbledore?"
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"Take it," Grindelwald said to him.
Tom hesitated for a moment but reluctantly accepted the ring.
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"Are you... asking me to propose to Professor Dumbledore on your behalf?" Tom couldn't help but blurt out.
Grindelwald froze for a moment and burst into laughter.
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"Please, if you can, go ahead," he said self-deprecatingly.
Tom awkwardly asked, "So... why are you giving this to me?"
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Grindelwald replied, "I just feel that the swine doesn't deserve it. Like wizards shouldn't hide, beautiful things deserve better people."
Tom pondered for a moment and asked, "But how do you know that wizards are better than Muggles?"
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Grindelwald countered, "Do you think you're a better person than your parents?"
Tom turned his gaze back to the window. "I... I hope I am."
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Grindelwald said, "Then I believe you are."
He smiled confidently and then disappeared into thin air.
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Tom held the ring, confirming that everything that had just happened wasn't his imagination.
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"Grindelwald let him go just like that?!" Tom thought, "But should I return the ring? Or Morfin Gaund must be reporting this to Aurors?"
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Thud! Thud!
Someone angrily tapped on the window.
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Tom was startled. He hadn't realized that his magic had worn off, and now the people inside the house could see him.
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Tom looked up and met his father's gaze, who had intended to drive away the intruder. His father was equally taken aback at his look.
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"Tom, who is that?" his grandmother asked.
Tom's father, also named Tom, nervously tried to block the window, but his grandmother still caught a glimpse of him.
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His grandmother gasped for breath, pointing at him as if she had seen a ghost but couldn't find the words to speak.
Tom thought, "Since they've already seen me..."
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He disappeared from outside the window and reappeared inside the living room.
"I mean no harm," Tom said.
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But his father seemed to have a heart attack. "Monster... that... that witch..."
His father's face displayed alternating expressions of humiliation, disgust, and extreme terror.
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Tom understood him. If he were violated by a witch, it would probably feel the same.
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"I'm just here to say goodbye. My mother died giving birth to me sixteen years ago, and today, I learned that my father has also died."
When Tom spoke these words, he only metaphorically referred to the "father" within his heart, that tiny, pitiful hope that had died. However, to the Riddle family, it seemed like a threat to their lives.
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"Thomas..." Tom's grandmother, Mary, cried weakly, tears streaming down her face, as she called out her husband's name.
As Tom turned around, he found that his grandfather had silently taken out a hunting rifle.
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Bang!
Without even speaking to him, the old man aimed at Tom's head and pulled the trigger.
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Tom saw the bullet and sparks erupt from the gun barrel. He thought, "This is it. I'm going to die at the hands of a Muggle?"
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Tom had never imagined that an old man who had moments ago been laughing and chatting with his family would now unhesitatingly take a life.
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Tom was surprised by the flood of thoughts that raced through his mind. Time seemed to slow down.
No, time had indeed slowed down.
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The ring in his hand activated, sensing the life-or-death situation of its holder.
A burst of green light emanated from it, repelling the bullet and unleashing a retaliatory magical attack.
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The blinding light forced Tom to close his eyes. When he opened them again, he saw three lifeless pairs of eyes on the ground.
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Tom's mind went blank, and he quickly used magic to close all the curtains.
He is doomed.
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Tom thought to himself, "The Ministry of Magic will come soon, I need to escape!"
"No, you didn't use your own wand, so the Ministry of Magic isn't tracking you," he countered rationally.
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"Morfin Gaunt knows I came," he felt terrified as if the whole world had witnessed his actions.
"Then let him take the blame, it's his ring, isn't it?" he cruelly planned, calculating the possibilities.
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"He's a violent drunkard, he doesn't even remember if he did it or not. Who knows, he just found out his lowly sister, who ran away, gave birth to a Muggle's child, bringing shame to his family," the evil thoughts whispered in his ear.
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"No, Grindelwald knows I came, maybe even Dumbledore knows," he countered again.
"So what? Do you think they will report you?" the devil asked.
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Tom's mind gave a negative answer.
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"If Dumbledore were here, he would tell me to do the same," this belief supported him, even though he had no evidence.
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He was a murderer, he had become one a long time ago.
Myrtle's death, was all because he didn't carefully inspect the exits, checking every restroom stall. Tom suppressed the urge to vomit.
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He didn't mean to, it's just that the things around him had too much power. And that's why wizards had to hide, right?
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They could kill Muggles with a casually thrown broom, a moment of anger could inflate them into balloons. What talk of coexistence? They were so cautious that they might as well not exist!
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The taxes are all paid to hide themselves in the wizarding world, no wonder we are so backward and poor, right? Grindelwald's ideas had eroded him at his most vulnerable.
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"I deserve to live," this thought justified all of his actions.
"I deserve to live openly, proudly, like any child loved by their parents." Tom embraced himself in his heart.
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"This is the life they owed me, this was supposed to be my house. They just compensated me earlier," Tom's inner panic twisted things even deeper.
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"They should be the ones in hell, right? It seems that Father already knew about Mother being pregnant with me. Why didn't he go looking for me? Instead, he acted like I never existed?" he silently questioned his father's lifeless body.
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His anger grew as he looked at his grandparents' bodies, continuing to question in his heart: "You knew too, didn't you? Otherwise, why would you shoot me? What were you planning to do with my body?"
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He thought deeply and still harbored resentment, wanting to kick them all.
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And his uncle, who started insulting him as soon as he walked in the door, and tried to stab him after just a few words. He was filled with discrimination and blame towards him as if his very existence was wrongdoing.
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"Why do they deserve to live while my mother was driven to death by them?"
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Tom believed that they had colluded together, intentionally pretending to be innocent, one link after another, neglecting and depriving his mother of her rights. Until his mother had no other choice, until he was born in agony, enduring mistreatment.
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"This is their retribution, and I am just bringing the retribution to them. It's all destiny," Tom calmed down and carefully checked if he left any traces.
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"I have the right to choose the life I want," the evil in his heart ultimately triumphed.
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