The Psychotic Girl’s Revenge

Chapter 2: I’m coming back for revenge



A man crouched down in front of her, the hem of his dark coat brushing the leaves on the ground. In the next second, her chin was grabbed roughly and lifted. He looked about twenty-four or twenty-five, with sharp short hair and a handsome face. He pressed his lips together, staring at her with a scrutinizing gaze.NôvelD(ram)a.ôrg owns this content.

In his eyes, Paige saw her own expressionless face. After being on the island for so long, she had learned to hide her emotions. Even with his grip on her chin, she remained silent and still, locking eyes with him for two long minutes.

The man’s eyes lit up with interest. There weren’t many people in the entire country who dared to hold his gaze for so long without flinching. Moreover, her appearance…

“Is she mentally ill?”

Someone grabbed Paige’s hand, revealing the electronic bracelet on her wrist. Every person sent to the island wore one, containing their identity information. To meet the criteria for the slums, the Clarkes had labeled Paige as a mentally ill vagrant incapable of self-care.

One of the subordinates scanned Paige’s bracelet with a phone and reported, “Boss, she’s a mental patient.”

“Details.”

“She was sent here three years ago, 21 now, with no specific identity information. Likely a vagrant, diagnosed with schizophrenia.”

“21 years old…” The man repeated, his tone cold and disdainful, “Shouldn’t a mental patient be in the slums from birth? She wasn’t sent here until she was 18?”

Paige kept her head down, staying silent, continuing to play the role of a mentally ill person.

The man patted her cheek and stood up, ordering, “Take her with us.”

“Yes, sir.”

Paige was pulled up from the ground and walked forward.

Everyone walked quietly, unaware of the gleam in the eyes of the girl who was taken away.

‘The Clarkes, I’m coming back for revenge…’

In the distance, a few people on a shanty rooftop watched the scene unfold.

“Strange, with Paige’s skills, she could easily grab a gun and kill a few of them. Why is she letting them take her away so willingly?”

A boy around ten years old lay on the edge of the rooftop, dressed in a faded hospital gown, his face puzzled as he looked toward the helicopter.

“First, Paige wants to leave this place badly,” someone replied.

“And the second reason?” the boy continued to ask.

“Second, Paige is smart. She knows the man taking her away is not to be messed with. That’s Enrico Gustin.”

A person stood on the rooftop, gazing toward the sea, watching Paige being led to the helicopter.

“If you ever get off Wind Island and hear the name Enrico, you better steer clear of him. He’s dangerous.”

“Oh,” the boy said, suddenly understanding, but then frowned. “But once Paige is out, she has nothing. How will she survive?”

The person chuckled softly. “Paige has been on Wind Island for three years, almost becoming the queen of the slums. Someone like her won’t have trouble surviving. The people who abandoned Paige here are in for a world of pain…”


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