Chapter 2 You Framed Me

"I want you to pay me back now!"

A young man who had his hair parted in the middle and dressed in fashionable attire was berating Garry impatiently.

This young man just so happened to be Garry's roommate who went by the name Larson Foster.

Not long ago, Larson bought an expensive watch that just hit the market and let his roommates take turns enjoying it.

When it was Garry's turn, someone bumped into him from behind. He didn't have a steady grip on the watch, so he dropped it and it broke into pieces on the floor.

So, Garry now owed Larson a new watch. Garry would pay the debt, but he really couldn't afford a new one for the time being.

"I'm so sorry, Larson.

Can you please give me some more time?

I'm working part-time in the next two months so I'll have the money ready for you by then.

I really don't have any money right now."

Garry lowered his head and apologized.

Larson's voice was oozing with sarcasm.

"Really? You want me to give you more fucking time?

If you don't have the money on you, why don't you ask your family for it?

Are you an orphan or something?

If both your parents are dead, I can think about giving you some more time."

Garry's face reddened out of anger. "You really went too far this time."

His parents were just ordinary people. They did everything they could to pay for his tuition and living expenses. How could he turn to them for more money?

"Ha-ha, look at you. You're so poor, you can't afford it.

I'll tell you what. If you can crawl under my crotch,

I'll accept the loss and I won't ask you to pay me back."

With a smirk, Larson pointed his finger at his crotch and ridiculed Garry.

Faced with such humiliation, Garry clenched his hands into fists at his sides and ground his teeth, but because he was clearly in the wrong this time, he did not bother to fight back and just chose to tolerate the taunting.

Such a concession made Larson even bolder.

With disdain in his voice, Larson said, "Let me make myself clear to you. I can afford a dozen watches, but I don't like having my things damaged by others, especially by the likes of you, a poor person!"

"You are too much! I am poor and have no money, but that doesn't mean I am inferior!"

Garry's forehead bulged with blue veins, and he clenched his fists, his voice low and suppressed.

Larson burst into laughter, as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world.

He leaned lazily against the headboard of his bed and sneered, "The poor are the parasites of this society. Dirty, filthy, and disgusting!"

After a pause, he looked Garry up and down, with deep contempt and disdain in his eyes.

"Garry, your poor self-esteem always makes me sick.

I know it's not your fault, but so what?

Everyone in the dormitory can testify that you broke it.

You have to pay or I will complain to the school and have them deduct your scholarship!

Without the scholarship, you probably won't even be able to afford your food.

How pathetic!"

Garry's eyes widened, anger burning in his chest.

As if losing his mind, he wanted to tear the vicious man in front of him to pieces.

"So, you designed all this, right?" he asked Larson.