Rebirth Game: I Watch My Bestie March Into the Sweatshop

My best friend, Sydney Cox, is a troublemaker by nature. She thinks everyone around her owes her a good life.

During summer break, she insisted on working in a factory. I was worried that she might get tricked, so I let her work in my family's factory out of the kindness of my own heart. In fact, I even gave her the easiest position with the lightest work.

But I didn't expect her to think that her salary was lower than that of the veteran employees in the factory, leading to her setting fire to my neighborhood.

The blaze was far too strong. Even though the firefighters came as soon as possible, my family and I still ended up dying in the fire.

When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day before Sydney's first day in a factory.

"Chloe, what do you think about this factory? Their benefits are enticing."

Sydney Cox's voice left me in a daze. Didn't she, my very best friend, set me on fire and burn me alive?

"Hey, say something," she grumbled, elbowing me sharply.

The pain snapping through my arm made me realize that I had been reborn—not just that, but on the day before she started work at the factory.

In my previous life, I invited her to join my family's factory because I was afraid she might get scammed into working at a sweatshop. On paper, she was there to work, but in reality, she was only there to have fun.

Sydney and I lived and ate together. In a day, she would spend about two hours, at most, on the production line. Mom and Dad also sympathized with her situation, so they turned a blind eye to her inaction.

Ultimately, when Sydney found out her salary was slightly lower than that of a veteran employee, she accused my parents of using her for cheap labor. That night, she set our house on fire, burning me and my family alive.

Thankfully, fate was on my side. It gave me a second chance to make things right while I could.

Watching Sydney select her choice of factory, I could hardly suppress my smile. That place was infamous for being a sweatshop that particularly scammed people from out of town.

They would always lure their victims in with grand promises, only to slash wages later under every pretext. Sometimes, the victim might even have to pay out of pocket.

"What are you smiling about?" Sydney snapped, tossing her phone to the floor.

I quickly pulled my face straight. "Nothing. I'm just happy for you, finding such a great job with amazing benefits."

At that, she arrogantly raised her chin. "What can I do? I'm too good. And don't worry, once I settle in, I'll put in a good word for you and get you in."

So far, I was most grateful that I hadn't told her about my family's factory. Seeing how hopeful and excited she was, I couldn't help but anticipate what would happen to her in the end.

In this life, I wanted to see just what kind of trouble she would stir at another factory.

One day, Sydney texted me for the first time since starting work. "I'm off for tonight, Chloe. Let's have dinner."

Of course, I couldn't wait to see her.

"Over here!" she exclaimed, excitedly beckoning me over.

When I came closer and saw her, I realized she looked different. I pointed at the gold necklace resting around her neck and asked, "What's with that?"

She touched her neck, then glanced at me shyly. "I think I've found my one true love."

One true love? At a sweatshop? That was no different than discovering trash in a trash can.

I concealed the contempt on my face, replacing it with eager curiosity for the story. "What? Who is it?"

Sydney looked around, ensuring no one we knew was around, then leaned over. "My manager, Mr. Walmsley."

As in, the Fred Walmsley, the manager of that sweatshop?

She quickly covered my mouth before a squeal could escape. "Hey, keep it down! Mr. Walmsley prefers to keep things lowkey."

Keep things lowkey? More like keep it away from his wife's radar.

That old creep had a terrible reputation around here. He was known for preying on new female workers.

I thought he would lie low for a while after his wife beat him up recently, but man, was I wrong. Sydney had become his new target.

"What if he's married? Won't that make you the mistress?" I asked softly.

Sydney pouted, as if not bothered by that label. "I'm not the mistress if I'm the one he loves."

Wow. When did being a mistress come with such lofty excuses?

After chatting for a while, Sydney took the menu and placed a bank card on the table generously. "Eat as much as you want. Everything's on me today."

Her words drew repeated glances from the customers around us. I was so mortified, I wanted nothing more than to crawl under the table.

Sydney, on the other hand, strode over with complete confidence. "Don't bother. I'm not the kind who'll make friends with just anyone."

What a narcissistic fool.

Not long after she returned to the table, food was served. Barely two minutes in, she told me she had to leave. "Hey, Chloe? I have to bounce. My babe misses me. I'll catch you again next time!"

I pretended to hesitate as I looked over the dishes. Sydney looked displeased, but still paid the bill before leaving. After she left, I couldn't help but feel a wave of disgust as I stared at her back.

She killed my family in the previous life, and in this one, I would do anything to watch her sink into eternal ruin.