I remembered how, in my previous life, he had come to find me right before his death. Under the guise of bringing me local specialties, he had barged into my villa, a knife gripped in his white-knuckled hand, and lunged at me hysterically.
My bodyguards had pinned him to the marble floor before he could get close.
Pinned down, he had screamed and cursed at me.
"Daniel Joyce! That night, I saw you get knocked out and dragged into the cornfield! I ignored it on purpose! I waited until the next day to bring the village to find you!"
"I wanted you in prison so Mom and Dad would give me your admission letter!"
"I thought once I got to the capital, I'd be someone important."
He had laughed then, a broken, weeping sound that made my skin crawl.
"I didn't expect to be played like a dog by those rich kids. They ruined my life! Now I have nothing. Why should you, an illiterate rapist, live so well? I refuse to accept it! If I could do it over, I absolutely wouldn't switch places with you! You're the one who should suffer in the capital! You!"
When the police arrived, he had shoved everyone aside and leaped out the window, dying on impact.