Chapter 11: The Next Attempt

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Staring at the little question mark at the end of the sentence, I was stunned.

I sat motionless, the weight of possibility and regret pressing down on me. Was this a second chance, or just another cruel joke?

Could it be that what just happened was real?

The taste of smoke still lingered in my mouth, the echo of sirens in my ears. It felt real—achingly, impossibly real.

Did I really go back in time, back to that gaming lounge five years ago?

The facts stacked up: the boys, the games, the sticky floor, the smell of Tyler's favorite cologne. It couldn't be a coincidence.

But unfortunately, I hadn't done anything to change the past, so the game had failed.

I clenched my fists in frustration, berating myself for freezing up, for being too slow, for not doing more.

Is that why it ended that way?

It made sense—the rules were clear. Change the past, or relive the pain. No shortcuts.

As I thought it through, I looked at the numbers on the screen and couldn't help but feel a surge of hope.

Maybe it wasn't over. Maybe the universe was giving me another shot—a chance to do things differently.

There are three chances in total.

I exhaled, steadying myself. Three. Enough to learn, to adapt, to save him.

That means I still have two more chances to change history.

Hope and fear tangled together, tight in my chest. This time, I wouldn't waste it.

Taking a deep breath, I silently mapped out a plan in my mind to make up for the lack of time.

I replayed every detail—routes, timelines, names, faces—burning them into my memory. I wouldn't let myself be caught off guard again.

I replayed the situation on that street over and over.

Every possible angle, every shortcut, every conversation. I would be ready.

Half an hour later, I moved the mouse back.

The cursor hovered over the icon, the heartbeat pulsing. I closed my eyes, whispered a prayer, and clicked.

Redemption Game, second round—begin.

The screen flashed, the world shifted—and this time, I swore, I wouldn’t let him down.