F*** the System: From Trailer Park to Tech Empire

"Stop hitting me! I confess! I'm a total player!

My ex just got an abortion last week!" The usually gentle, highandmighty star quarterback was currently kneeling in the muddy water of a dark alley, desperately begging for mercy.

My psycho brother had just smashed this hypocrite's front teeth straight down the storm drain with a single punch.

All because this piece of trash confessed his feelings to me in public this morning. To secure my only chance at an education, my brother once held a meat cleaver to his own throat.

Anyone who dared to mess with me, he'd fight them to the death. Suddenly, a bizarre holographic popup flickered frantically across my retinas: [WARNING!

Mission 99 "Clear Toxic Relationship" completed. Villainess Darkening Value: 10.] I froze. Villainess? Me?

Dash spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, his smile manic and violent. "To hell with the villainess! My sister is the main character!

I'll rewrite this garbage system script for her myself!" Chapter 1 My brother, Dash, bleached his hair an eyecatching platinum blonde from a young age.

Paired with his neck tattoos, he looked exactly like a street thug. By the time he was in kindergarten, he was already the terror of the playground.

That was when I realized he was the ultimate street punk. The year we transitioned to middle school, I ranked first in the entire school. My brother was also first—from the bottom.

My parents sighed heavily. "Margot was always competitive. She must have stolen all his IQ in the womb." I bit my tongue. I rolled my eyes.

They called Dash and me into the living room together. "You both know how things are with the family." My dad looked at me, struggling to get the words out. "We can only afford to send one of you to middle school." My mom's gaze shifted between Dash and me. "Margot, you're smart, and you'll succeed no matter what you do.

But Dash is different.

If he doesn't hustle his way to a diploma, his life is really over." Dash sneered, "A diploma is important, sure, but are you seriously telling me I'm built for school?

Those Ivy League losers rack up a mountain of student loans just to end up working at Starbucks anyway.

I'm going to apprentice at the auto shop right now, and I'll be making dollars a decade before them without taking crap from those fake middleclass snobs!" The more my parents scolded him, the harder he snapped.

He actually stormed into the kitchen, grabbed a meat cleaver, and held it to his neck. "School?

Screw that noise!" My dad wavered. "Dash is hopeless, but Margot's grades are so good…" "What's the point of a girl studying so much?

She'll just get married and stay home with the kids anyway!" "A good degree means a rich husband.

She can marry into money and support her brother, taking the pressure off us." Dash flipped the script, barking orders at our parents. "You think rich guys don't have standards, or that they'd look twice at parents like you who don't even pay into their own retirement?

You two better roll your asses to the Walmart night shift right now!

Pay your insurance, and save up for my Harley Davidson!" My parents shrank back. "But we're almost fifty…" "So what if you're fifty? Fifty is prime hustling age!

If you delay my wedding and end the family bloodline, can you take that responsibility?!" Thanks to my deadbeat brother risking his life, I scavenged the chance to keep going to school.

I scored the top SAT score in the state, landing a fullride scholarship to a toptier private prep school that only admitted rich kids.

Dash became the most notorious, unhinged thug in our area. He'd frequently help old ladies across the street after they tried to run insurance scams.

He bullied the toughest bullies in every middle school. He collected protection money from the local gangs causing trouble.

The street vendors he protected were always stuffing fruit and snacks into my backpack.

I'd go to the corner food truck to buy the cheapest hot dog, and the owner would not only add double cheese and bacon for free, but he'd also shove a giant icecold Coke into my hands.

The entire school knew I had a terrifying, tattooed brother who was out of his mind.

So, even though I had top grades and was the hottest girl in school, not a single guy dared to come near me. Except Wesley.

He was the high school's star quarterback and the newly elected Prom King.

After school, he blocked my path at the front gates and confessed his feelings right in front of everyone. "Margot, I like you. Will you go out with me?" Dating in senior year?

School really drove people crazy. Just as I opened my mouth to reject him.

A familiar voice rang out from behind me. "You got a fucking death wish, hitting on my sister?" Chapter 2 Dash stood there with his hands in his pockets, wearing a roguish, untamed smirk.

His bleached platinum hair caught the sunlight. He wore ripped jeans and a black tank top, fresh scrapes standing out against his tattooed arms.

Wesley frowned. "Who are you?" "Me?" Dash flashed a sharp grin. "Margot, don't be afraid." Wesley stepped in front of me. "I'll protect you!" I got the sentiment.

But… why were his legs shaking like a leaf?

Dash spat out his Marlboro, grabbed Wesley by the collar of his limitededition jersey, and slammed him against the metal lockers with a deafening crash.

He leaned in, his voice laced with pure menace. "You got a fucking death wish, hitting on my sister?" Wesley actually had some guts. He asked me out right then and there anyway.

As a result, after night classes ended, Dash cornered him in an alleyway. I grabbed a metal baseball bat from the equipment room and rushed over to intervene.

The moment I arrived at the scene, Dash was already beating the living daylights out of him. Wesley tried to act tough.

Dash responded by punching his front teeth straight down the storm drain. He broke. Wesley fell to his knees, bawling in the dirt. "Stop hitting me, I confess! I'm a total player!

My ex just got an abortion last week!" He was crying so hard that snot flew right onto my brother's discontinued Air Jordans. "Damn it… lick it clean!!" Dash stomped his foot down, ruthlessly crushing Wesley's prized, handsome face straight into the muddy puddle, his eyes dark and murderous. "Wipe it off with your face.

Motherfucker, I waited in line for these limited editions!" I silently handed the baseball bat to Dash.

He glanced at me, took it without a word, and shoved the cold metal barrel hard against the scumbag's cheek. "You're a filthy piece of trash.

Crawl out of my sight." After Wesley transferred schools, my life got instantly quieter. Dash's street cred as a certified psycho skyrocketed.

Before graduation, I secured a fullride to an Ivy League with top STEM scores. Summer break rolled around.

My aunt showed up at our door holding a cheap box of nearexpired donuts. "Margot got a full ride to an Ivy League now!

Since she's got all that free time this summer, why doesn't she tutor my idiot son Milo for his SATs for free?

She's just sitting around doing nothing anyway!" My parents had been poor for so long that sucking up was practically their default setting.

They reached out to take the box. "Oh, you're too polite, it's the least she could do…" Before they could finish their sentence, Dash swung his baseball bat and smashed the box of donuts into a pulverized mess. "An Ivy League tutor charges three hundred bucks an hour.

We're not doing a damn thing for a cent less!" My aunt jumped back in terror. "Tthat expensive?" Hearing how much I could make, my parents immediately started hounding me to go out and get a job, causing Dash to snap again. "A job?

My sister busted her ass for twelve years straight just to earn a single summer to catch her breath.

If the streets find out you're exploiting her like this, where the hell am I supposed to put my face?!" He turned right around and wired a thousand bucks into my account for spending money.

He even paid for my driver's ed. "Hurry up and get your license. I'm buying a car soon, and I need a chauffeur." As it turned out, I got my license, but there was no car in sight.

My parents couldn't have cared less about throwing me a graduation party. So, Dash called up the guys from his crew and threw me a massive rager in an abandoned warehouse.

He even gifted me a topoftheline, brandnew iPhone and a MacBook Pro. I spent the entire summer lounging in bed, glued to my screens.

When I got sick of gaming, I scrolled through TikTok. When I got tired of filling up my Amazon cart, I used Dash's linked credit card to order delivery.

The second he checked my billing statements, he wired another two thousand dollars straight to my account: [You dare eat those discounted garbage tacos again?

You buy one more piece of cheap, synthetic trash from a street stall, and I'll burn it to ashes!] Chapter 3 College opening day.

Dash drove up in a roaring, beatup pickup truck, bringing along a few heavily tattooed musclemen to help me move my luggage.

My roommates were terrified that if they offended me, they'd be stuffed into burlap sacks and thrown into the Hudson River to feed the fishes.

Everyone treated me like a ticking time bomb, except for Vivienne.

She was a filthy rich heiress, spoiled but gorgeous, shining like the quintessential female lead of a campus romance.

Right at that moment, floating text popped up in my vision: [The villainess has finally met the female lead!

The main plot is starting.] [The female lead is just clueless, but she's always misunderstood by her roommates as showing off her wealth, leading to her being brutally ostracized.] [If it weren't for that, our angel male lead wouldn't have the chance to swoop in and save her.] Evil villainess?

Who? Me?! Vivienne volunteered enthusiastically, "I'll handle buying the dorm supplies for all of us!" The other two girls replied, "Okay, thanks for covering it first.

We'll split the bill later." Vivienne casually listed off, "Let's get a fully automatic espresso machine for the dorm. It's super convenient for waking up in the morning.

And for hair dryers, let's just get Dysons. They're great and not that expensive." The dorm room fell dead silent. My roommates couldn't help but roll their eyes at her.

The floating comments began to sigh: [Miss Heiress needs to tune back into the reality channel. There's a broke scholarship student in this dorm.] [Too bad they're all cowards.

They're so scared of offending the heiress that they'll just bite the bullet and pay up to save face.] [It's actually so simple, just give it to her straight.

Our female lead is blunt, but she has a great temper.

Play your cards right, and she'll give you the world!] So, I decided to test the waters. "Could we just get a cheap twentydollar drip coffee maker?

A fifteendollar blow dryer from Walmart works just fine for me.

The thing is, I'm only here on a fullride scholarship, so I don't have the extra cash to burn on this." The other two cowards shot me looks of pure gratitude.

Vivienne blinked. "Then… I'll just pay for it all, is that okay?

This kind of pocket change doesn't matter to me, but lowering my living standards to accommodate everyone else is completely out of the question." My roommates were stunned speechless.

I instantly answered for all of us, "Deal!" With the help of the bullet screen, Vivienne and I quickly became close friends. But I soon sensed something was very wrong.

There was a hot guy in our class named Miles. Whenever I got close to him, it was like triggering a critical quest.

I felt an overwhelming urge to talk trash about Vivienne, spread vicious rumors about her, and completely drag her name through the mud.

Fortunately, my willpower was rock solid, allowing me to bite my tongue time and time again.

The comments sighed in a frenzy: [The villainess got into a toptier Ivy, but she still can't escape her fate as a plot device for the main couple.] [Her entire purpose is to deliberately spread rumors about the female lead, create misunderstandings, and push the male and female leads together.] [Villainess, aren't your academic scores the highest in the major?

Vivienne is the only heir to the Reikang BioTech conglomerate! All you see is petty romance, blind to this massive pile of wealth!

The heiress is your only ticket into high society!] [Exactly! In the original book, the female lead directly funds a cuttingedge lab for the male lead's research dreams!

Are your skills any worse than his? Cling to this lifeline, get into her family's core R&D department, grab a joint project, and reach the pinnacle of life!

Wouldn't that be sweet?!] [Stop struggling. She was born an evil villainess, that's just her character setting!] To hell with my character setting.

It's my life, and I'll set it however the hell I want! Miles approached me to ask a question and borrow my notes. "I'm Miles.

What's your name?" I deadpanned, "Taylor Swift." I didn't expect the male lead to be completely clueless about pop culture. "Okay, Taylor Swift, can I add your Snapchat?" "Sure." I rattled off Vivienne's Snapchat handle to him.

Chapter 4 As soon as I walked back into the dorm, Vivienne excitedly grabbed my arm. "The Prom King added my Snapchat, and he's not as aloof as the rumors say at all!

He actually asked if I was Taylor Swift? He's got so much game!" The bullet screen went crazy with laughter: [Hahahahaha who would have thought?

The villainess just maxed out the progress bar for the main couple!] [Tell me this isn't a massive misunderstanding?] [I can testify she spread rumors, but they weren't malicious at all.] [I'm so sick of angst stories where no one communicates.

A little bit of sugar is absolutely delicious!] I let out a breath of relief, but soon enough, they realized something was off.

First, it was Vivienne. "Why does Miles keep asking me about studying?

He even thanked me for lending him my notes, but when did I ever lend him notes?" I didn't miss a beat. "I lent him the notes.

He originally wanted to add my Snapchat." Vivienne froze. "Then why did you give him my handle?" I truly lived up to the evil villainess title.

The lies rolled right off my tongue. "Let me let you in on a secret. Miles is completely obsessed with you—love at first sight.

But his ego is too big to just shoot his shot, so he begged me to play along with this mistaken identity act to subtly hit on you." Vivienne flushed red. "No way?

I don't see how he's hitting on me at all?" I immediately deployed my villainess skills. "Vivienne, I swear you're as dense as a brick!" The female lead flushed from her neck to her ears. "I couldn't tell… he's actually that kind of guy…" In this moment, I was no longer the evil villainess.

I was the CEO of rumormongering.

After feeding lies to the female lead, it was time to spin them for the male lead. "Don't say that, he only acts like a creep for you!" After that wild manipulation, the comments started praising me: [When the male and female leads get married, the villainess gets a seat at the head table!] During the main lecture, I tracked down Miles. "You asked for my Snapchat, so why didn't you add me?" Miles stared in shock, pulling out his phone and bringing up the chat log. "Then who have I been texting every day?" I put on a show of loudly smacking my forehead. "Look at my stupid brain!

I accidentally gave you my best friend's handle." "Vivienne?

You know her?" Miles stood there, struggling to process the information. "She's the notoriously arrogant heiress of our class.

But… why is she so different from the rumors?" "Then you just hit the jackpot!" I threw an arm over his shoulder, my face animated as I spun the tale. "Her family life is a total disaster, and her aloof attitude is just a defense mechanism.

She barely speaks to strangers, but around the guy she likes, she's incredibly bubbly." The male lead stayed silent, a deep red creeping up his neck. "So you're saying… she likes me?" Crisis permanently averted.

I happily headed out to grab some food. A crew of hulking bodyguards in tailored suits suddenly locked down the street, forcibly shoving me into a bulletproof RollsRoyce Phantom.

I was just about to fight back when an icy hand, heavy with a Patek Philippe watch, clamped down hard on my jaw, forcing me to face an intensely aggressive visage.

His thumb roughly scraped back and forth across my lower lip, and his dark eyes locked onto me like a beast stalking its prey. "Is that footballplaying idiot really that attractive to you, sweetheart?" The bullet screen arrived, late but inevitable