After leaving those pearls of wisdom, Crazy vanished from the kitchen, once again leaving me to my own thoughts. However, instead of being lost in what was, I concentrated on making sure that my plan would succeed. I didn't have complete faith in myself that I wouldn't, somehow, fuck it up. But instead of worrying about it, I forced my brain to move past it.
In my second life, when I first transmigrated into this world, my body had been… damaged, to say the least. My left shoulder was dislocated, my right ankle was broken, and my left knee was the size of a football. And those were only the injuries I knew I had for sure.
Every breath that I took hurt. Every time I so much as twitched, it sent wave after wave of excruciating pain through my system, causing me to black out. And yet, I had no idea what had been done to me. There were no memories to draw on, no idea of who I was and how I got there.
