I’m a demolition engineer.
When the safety officer reported that there were people in the mountains and we couldn’t proceed with the blasting, I pressed the button anyway.
Dozens of people were killed or injured in the explosion. The site was stained with blood, and cries of anguish filled the air.
While my coworkers rushed to rescue the victims, I calmly scrolled through my phone and told them not to panic.
In my previous life, after people died in a blast, my childhood friend accused me of dereliction of duty for using my phone on the job. My pregnant wife wept and said I was vicious and had no regard for human life, and that I’d planned it all in advance.
The furious villagers surrounded me and beat me to death.
My childhood friend married my wife, took the insurance payout, and lived happily ever after.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment my childhood friend asked me to sign off on the blasting plan.
