Don't Mess with the Food Delivery Guy on the 7Th Floor

I have been so unlucky for eight lifetimes that I have lived in this "bad nest" called the Reclamation Community. Upstairs and downstairs, in the neighbors, there is no normal person. My family's internet was blocked in the whole building, and people in the group were still scolding me when it got stuck. The smell in front of the garbage dump was so bad that I didn't dare to open the window. My newly bought motorcycle was smashed to pieces by a naughty kid, and his father even called me a poor man. The most shocking thing is that the pervert on the 12th floor just killed his father and made such nonsense in the group that he was mentally ill. Even the police couldn't do anything about him. I live like a grandson every day, and I'm so frustrated that I can't do anything about these beasts. Until that day, I fell while riding a motorcycle and hit my head on a rock. I thought I was going to die, but... There was a sudden "buzz" in my head, and the whole world changed. I could see the dust in the air, hear the breathing throughout the building, and my mind was spinning faster than a computer. I lay on the ground and laughed. These "good neighbors", your retribution has come. From today on, we will settle the old and new accounts together.