Ficorpio
Chapter 1
My roommate was a tarot reader famous all over the internet.
On the very first day in our dorm, she declared that I was about to have a run of terrible luck.
I didn’t believe in superstition, but over the next few days, my underwear, clothes, and small pieces of jewelry began disappearing without a trace. Then I ended up with food poisoning after drinking milk tea.
When I collapsed on the floor, barely conscious, and reached for my phone to call 911, she snatched it away. Still livestreaming, she placed a string of crystals beside me.
“Why call 911? My crystals can cure anything. Someone like you, with no spiritual energy, should be grateful to receive my salvation.”
I was in agony, on the verge of passing out, but my roommate only held out a QR payment code.
“Protection crystals cost $1,999. Remember to send the money. Honestly, wasting my crystals on someone like you is such a shame.”
Afterward, she edited the footage of what had happened to me and spread it online. Her reputation soared. But because I hadn’t received medical treatment in time, my kidneys began to fail.
I tried to expose her, only to be cursed out by her fanatical followers. They eventually stoned me to death in the street.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the first day in the dorm.
My roommate was holding up her phone and livestreaming as she looked at me.
“You’re about to have terrible luck.”
I curved my lips into a faint smile.
Fine. Let’s see who ends up being unlucky this time.
Someone suddenly seized my arm and yanked it hard. Pain shot through me.
My consciousness snapped back into focus.
I opened my eyes and saw my roommate, Vivian Cross, shoving her phone right into my face. I nearly lost my balance.
“Oh my God, babies, I’ve found a textbook example of a cursed loner.”
“People like this are born to bring misfortune to their parents. Their fate is dangerous, and they’re doomed to a miserable life. How terrifying.”
As she spoke, she covered her mouth and giggled while responding to the comments flooding her livestream.
“Of course I’m not afraid. I have tarot cards to protect me.”
The moment I heard that familiar, vicious voice, my body began to tremble.
I was back.
I had actually been reborn.
I had returned to the first day of university.
In my previous life, the moment Vivian first saw me, disgust had twisted her features. Her nose wrinkled, her brows drew together, as if some foul smell were coming from my body.
Then she had shoved her phone into my face, recording every trace of my confusion and humiliation.
Grinning, she had told all her livestream followers that I had the face of a cursed loner.
She had even tried to trick me into buying her $9,999 crystals.
But at the time, unwilling to make trouble, I had only answered coldly, “I don’t believe in any of this. My parents and family are all perfectly healthy. If you keep going, I won’t hesitate to report your livestream.”
Chapter 2
Vivian’s face had darkened instantly. She had stared at me with a cold, gloomy look.
“If you don’t believe in the God of Tarot, fate will never favor you.”
Then she had walked away and continued livestreaming.
I had kept my distance from her too, silently rolling my eyes.
On the first day of university, I’d ended up with an idiot for a roommate. What terrible luck.
What I never expected was that even after I deliberately avoided Vivian, she had no intention of leaving me alone.
At first, it was only a shirt or jacket going missing.
But gradually, she grew bolder. My underwear disappeared. Then my hair clips. Then my expensive jewelry.
And finally, she poisoned my milk tea.
When the symptoms struck, I lay on the floor in agony, fumbling into my pocket for my phone.
I held it with trembling fingers and tried to call 911. Just as I was about to press the green call button, the phone was snatched away.
I looked up at her.
I would never forget the smugness in her eyes.
In her reflection, I saw my own face—pale, contorted with pain.
Rage burned red around my vision. Blood vessels stood out in my eyes as I lay there, barely breathing.
Vivian stood lazily to one side, the corners of her mouth raised. She turned her livestream camera toward me and placed a string of green crystals beside my body.
“Green crystals can increase your vitality. Someone as cursed as you is naturally weak. The only reason you’ll stay healthy and safe is because tarot is protecting you.”
“Why call 911? My crystals can cure anything. Someone like you, with no spiritual energy, should be grateful to receive my salvation.”
Pain pulsed through every part of my body. My vision kept going black, and I was barely conscious.
Vivian didn’t care. Instead, she brushed aside the hand I stretched toward my phone and shoved a QR payment code in front of my face.
“Protection crystals cost $1,999. Remember to send the money. Honestly, wasting my crystals on someone like you is such a shame.”
I felt my anger surge so violently that blood seemed to rush into my head. I bit my lips until they were torn and bloody.
Vivian brought the camera close to my face. Darkness swallowed my vision.
Her shrill voice rang in my ears.
“Look, babies. Isn’t her complexion much rosier now? That’s all thanks to me.”
“You have no idea how much spiritual energy I have to spend every time I cleanse someone. It takes even more when the person already has such a terrible fate.”
“If she weren’t my roommate, why would I bother helping her?”
The comments filled with praise.
The streamer was beautiful and kind-hearted. A real little fairy.
Then someone in the livestream noticed that I had stopped moving.
“Your roommate looks kind of dead.”
Vivian aimed the camera at my chest, where it still rose and fell faintly.
Chapter 3
“She isn’t dead. She just used up all her spiritual energy after the cleansing and fell asleep.”
“She’ll be fine after a nap. Can’t you see how rosy her complexion is now?”
Vivian edited that livestream and spread it across the internet. The tarot reader known as Little Mi became an online sensation, and her fame exploded.
Meanwhile, I lay in a hospital bed as the attending physician handed me my medical report.
Because I hadn’t received treatment in time, I had begun to suffer kidney failure.
My mother, Eleanor Bennett, took the report from my hands. One glance was all it took before she broke down beside my bed, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe.
I pulled myself together and went to confront Vivian and report what she had done.
My parents helped me organize the evidence, determined to take her to court.
No matter how much work my father had, Thomas never again said he was too busy. Even with her injured leg, my mother never once complained that she was tired.
But on the way to confront Vivian again, I was stopped outside the university gates before I could even enter.
Her fanatical followers had blocked the entrance.
I had no idea what Vivian had told them. Somehow, they all believed that everything was my fault—that I was a cursed loner, a short-lived freak, a burden who had ruined her parents’ lives.
Their vicious words pierced my mind like needle after needle.
Then a stone came flying from somewhere.
Blood ran from the back of my head down my neck.
First came the warmth. Then the pain spread through my entire body.
A second stone followed, thrown by someone I couldn’t see.
My body crumpled to the ground.
My mind went blank. The voices around me slowly faded away, along with my anger, my hatred, and even the will to keep living.
The thought of everything that had happened in my previous life sent a tremor through my body.
Not from fear.
From excitement.
I squeezed my eyes shut and bit down on my tongue, forcing myself to regain control. A few seconds later, I opened them sharply.
Vivian Cross stood in front of me, holding her phone so close that the camera was practically in my face. Mockery gleamed in her eyes.
This time, I wouldn’t let her get away with it.
I snatched the phone from her hand, turned the camera on her, and demanded, “Who gave you permission to film me?”
Vivian reached for the phone, careful to maintain her sweet public image even as she continued to ridicule me.
“See that, everyone? She’s so emotionally unstable. It’s proof that she was born under a lonely star.”
“The longer anyone stays friends with her, the more she’ll drain them. The closer the relationship, the worse the effect. Their luck will keep deteriorating, and they’ll become weak and sickly.”