My parents, rooted in their outdated traditions, cut off Liam’s medical funding again for the sake of their adopted son. At that moment, my heart finally died. The bullet comments were filled with sighs: 【Oh, Eric, your parents said they don't really favor their adopted son. They just found him to temper you both, afraid they'd spoil you otherwise.】 【Last time, they made you sell blood for tuition. The time before that, they let thugs steal your meal money… Now it's the 99th trial. They said if you two can just endure this one, they’ll finally be able to love you freely.】 Endure this one? But Liam was already dead. When I saw my parents illegally barge into my cramped rental apartment, I wasn’t surprised in the least. After all, ten minutes after I posted my desperate plea online, they used their immense financial clout to have my post deleted and my account banned. They had the money to silence me, but not a single penny to save my brother’s life. I clenched my fists, listening to my father’s voice, cold as a demon’s, as he announced: "Eric, your allowance for the entire year is gone." Then, he launched into a furious tirade of accusations. "You and Liam are getting increasingly out of line! Resorting to faking medical bills and spreading rumors online just to get money!" He snarled. "Do you have any idea how much it cost me to take down your post?" He grew more agitated with each word, his eyes blazing as he surveyed the small apartment. "And where's Liam? Get out here, you brat! Today, as your father, I’m going to teach you two a proper lesson!" His gaze fixed on me. "You first. Get on your knees!" My mother stepped forward, feigning protection. "Let’s talk this through calmly, no need for threats of violence." Then, her voice hardening, "Eric, where’s your brother? Don’t just stand there, tell him to come out and apologize to your father with you." She shook her head. "This time, your little prank went too far. If you remain so stubborn, even I can’t help you." Help? When had she ever helped us? Every single time, she’d coldly stood by as a spectator, only to play the peacemaker once the dust settled. If their "trial" succeeded, she’d boast about her effective parenting. If it failed, she’d lightly push all the blame onto Liam and me. Even the comments, having witnessed this recurring drama so many times, couldn't help but pity me. 【Ugh, Eric’s parents have really crossed the line this time. Eric was clearly posting for help, hoping some kind soul would assist him with Liam’s funeral arrangements. But in less than ten minutes, his parents had the post taken down.】 【My heart aches for Eric. This is just the fate of a supporting character, isn't it?】 A bitter, hollow laugh escaped me. From the moment Adrian Sterling entered our lives, I gained the ability to see these bullet comments. I knew then that Liam and I were mere stepping stones for Adrian, the protagonist. We were destined to fail. Yet, I refused to give up. I tried to fight back, but each attempt ended in failure. Every time Adrian falsely accused us, I would try desperately to explain, to prove our innocence to my parents. But in their eyes, it was merely ‘cunning sophistry.’ Later, I learned from the comments that my parents intended to use Adrian to temper us, which was why they silently condoned his actions. Finally, I gave up, accepting this absurd trial. I even repeatedly urged my younger brother to dutifully endure our parents’ tests. I thought the trials would end quickly. But it had been seven years, and the tests came one after another, endlessly, with no end in sight. And my brother, my only companion, died in the hospital because of their 99th trial. Even now, he lay in the cold mortuary, because I had no money for his funeral. And my father? He had simply cut off my monthly allowance of $500. I took a deep breath, waiting for them to finish speaking. Then, I slowly began. "You can cut off my allowance." My voice trembled slightly. "But please, just lend me $2,000. Please?" I swallowed hard. "Liam… he’s still waiting to be buried…" My father exploded in a fit of rage. He unbuckled his belt and lashed it across my back. "Well, well! Still lying to us even now! What kind of elder brother are you, wishing death upon your own brother?" A sharp, searing pain pulsed through me, but I persisted. "I’m not lying. Liam was in a car accident." I choked back a sob. "When I called you, you refused to pay for Liam’s medical expenses." My voice cracked. "He bled out and died! But for cremation and burial, the cheapest option is still $2,000…" Tears welled in my eyes. "I don’t have any money… that’s why I posted online for help… You can beat me as much as you want, but can you please just lend me $2,000 so Liam can be buried…?" My voice was barely a whisper, trembling uncontrollably. They had money. So much money. Yet my brother had died because we had none. It was absurd. My mother, hearing my words, froze. "Eric, what do you mean? Liam… he really…" My father furiously slapped my mother’s hand away, then struck me again with his belt. "You believe his lies?" He scoffed. "Those two brothers have been lying their entire lives! Faking illnesses as children, and now they’re even faking death!" His eyes burned with conviction. "Adrian was right. They've just been after our money from the start!" He glowered at me, his voice a menacing growl. "If only you two were as sensible as Adrian, your mother and I wouldn’t have to be so strict with you!" My heart shattered, and I finally broke. "Really? Wouldn’t you? Or is Adrian just a tool you found to torment Liam and me?" I screamed, my voice raw. "You knew all along that Adrian was framing and bullying Liam and me, but you turned a blind eye!" Tears streamed down my face. "Weren't we 'sensible' enough? We earned our own tuition. When we ran out of money, we found part-time jobs. We got top grades in every subject and won scholarships every year! But what did you do? You heartlessly sent thugs to beat Liam and me black and blue, stealing all the money we’d worked so hard to earn for food!" My voice cracked with desperate anguish. "I only asked you for $2,000 to bury Liam. Is that too much to ask? He’s my own brother, and your son!" I sobbed. "Why won't you just believe us, just this once?!" Both of them froze, a flicker of awkwardness crossing their faces. They clearly hadn't expected me to know about their "trials." My mother, flustered, nervously reached for my hand. "Eric, when did you find out…? Did Liam know too? Is that why you kept making up excuses to ask us for money?" So, this was the conclusion they reached after hearing my hysterical accusations? I laughed bitterly, a self-deprecating sound. "If you still don’t believe me, then use that $2,000 to sever our ties." My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. "From now on, I am no longer a son of the Sterling family. You won't have to worry about me shaming the Sterling name. Is that satisfactory?" Two thousand dollars. I wondered if, after Liam’s cremation, it would be enough to cremate me too. With Liam gone, I had no reason to live. I didn't expect to get their response before I heard a deep male voice sharply rebuke me. "Brother, aren't you being incredibly hurtful to Mom and Dad?" I looked at Adrian Sterling, who stood impassively in the doorway. He was dressed in a custom-tailored suit, a million-dollar watch gleaming on his wrist. I glanced down at myself: a t-shirt my neighbor had thrown away, and shoes I’d salvaged from the village trash dump. These were my parents. Millions spent enriching an adopted son, yet they wouldn't spare $2,000 for their own flesh and blood. The comments, too, were crying foul on my behalf. Adrian’s face was filled with feigned sincerity. "Brother," he began, "I just saw you and Liam buying fake medical records at the hospital this morning. How can you now claim Liam is dead?" He sighed, a performance of profound disappointment. "Since you want to sever ties, Mom and Dad, just agree. After all… consider it another trial." A self-deprecating laugh escaped me. How could Adrian lie so naturally about things that never happened? I felt utterly helpless, but I couldn’t stop myself from trying to explain again. "If you’re so capable, why don’t you go to the hospital yourselves and check if there’s a deceased person named Liam Sterling? The truth would be clear!" My voice cracked. "Then, it would be obvious who’s lying—Adrian or me, wouldn’t it?" But my mother’s trust in Adrian was absolute. "Adrian isn't like you; would he lie to us? Liam is your own brother; how can you keep saying he’s dead? Are you cursing him, or us?" Her face hardened. "Now, you call Liam out here immediately to apologize, or else he’ll never see another penny of allowance!" I looked at the comments floating in the air. Without exception, they were furious on my behalf, comforting me, trying to brainstorm solutions. But I was utterly numb. Because I had long since given up expecting them to understand me. I had explained countless times, yet they still refused to believe. Liam had been in a car accident, and we needed to pay for his medical expenses. I called my parents, begging them to cover the bills. The most ridiculous part was that my parents used this as another "trial," adamantly refusing to pay. Liam struggled for three days on a gurney in the hospital corridor, until he finally gave up and died from massive blood loss. I thought, everyone is free now. Once I sent Liam off, I would join him. But I never imagined I couldn’t even afford the funeral. As despair deepened, my father scoffed. "Since you already know about the 'trials,' then perfect. I'll give you one last chance. If you pass this trial, I won't just give you $2,000." He paused, a cruel glint in his eye. "From now on, I’ll grant you whatever you wish for." Adrian’s face changed dramatically. He clearly hadn’t expected my father to propose yet another trial for me. To be honest, neither had I. I looked up and saw the comments all urging me. 【Eric, you should agree. After all, they’re your and Liam’s birth parents; they probably won’t make it too hard for you.】 【Yeah, Liam's body is still at the hospital. His funeral can't wait. You're still young; how long would it take you to save up enough money for Liam's arrangements by working odd jobs? Liam can't wait that long.】 Yes, Liam couldn’t wait. I had tried every method imaginable. Borrowing money, loans, finding jobs… I had exhausted every option. Each time I saw a flicker of hope, my parents would send someone to sabotage it. I was at my wit’s end, which was why I finally resorted to exposing my identity as the Sterling family’s eldest son online, hoping to stir public opinion and find a way out. But in the end? I was still cornered, step by step, by my own biological parents, forced to pass their "trials" just to arrange my brother's funeral. It was utterly ironic. After a long silence, I finally spoke. "Alright, I agree." For my brother, I had no choice but to agree. Adrian’s face was livid, his eyes fixed on me with intense resentment. I ignored him, silently extending my hand. "But I beg you, can you please transfer me the $2,000 first?" My voice was barely audible. "My brother's burial truly can’t wait any longer." Adrian burst out laughing. "Brother, aren't you being too greedy?" He smirked. "Still lying about Liam being dead?" He paused, feigning a thoughtful look. "Speaking of which… Mom, Dad, I did accidentally see Brother buying something from a shady character recently. That $2,000… he wouldn’t be trying to…" He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air. My parents’ faces instantly contorted with rage. My mother, furious, slapped me across the face. "Eric! How old are you, and you’re already stooping so low?! You actually dared to take those things?!" My father’s face was grim. "Since you’re so desperate for $2,000, fine. This last trial." His eyes narrowed. "Earn $2,000 within one week." He paused. "If you complete it, I’ll send you to rehab and make sure you kick this habit!" Adrian couldn’t hold back his laughter. I felt as if I’d plunged into an ice hole, my chest heaving rapidly. A ball of fury churned inside me, with nowhere to go. They left without hesitation. Adrian remained, surveying the rental apartment. "Honestly, I was quite worried just now, thought you almost won this one. Good thing Mom and Dad still don't believe you." He shook his head. "I think your last trial will be very difficult to pass. Why don't you get on your knees and beg me? I could help you, you know." He smirked. "It's just $2,000. I could introduce you to a few wealthy women. If you take care of them, forget $2,000, you could get $200,000!" His eyes gleamed with malice. "After all, Mom and Dad already think you’ve fallen so low, don’t they?" The comments were furious, cursing Adrian, the protagonist, and urging me to quickly explain everything to my parents. But what was the point of explaining? They were always like this, pretending to care deeply for Liam and me, but never actually doing anything concrete. Just like before, when they endlessly called, pressuring me to pay tuition, insisting I had to go to school, or they wouldn’t acknowledge me as their son. But when I asked to borrow the tuition from them, they would say: "Eric, your education is your own responsibility. You have to figure out the tuition yourself. And your brother’s tuition too." They’d added, "There are plenty of opportunities in this society. As long as you’re willing to work hard, you can easily earn your tuition, instead of expecting everything handed to you." But when they said this, I was still a minor, and employing child labor was illegal. I could only go to remote places, pretend I was an adult, and earn tuition by selling my blood. If they truly cared about Liam and me as much as they claimed, they would have investigated the moment they heard about Liam’s death. But how could they, after I’d told them countless times, still insist I was lying? Adrian mocked me some more, then left. I collapsed weakly to the floor, lost in a daze. But I needed $2,000, not to pass a trial. I needed it to bury Liam. After a long hesitation, I finally made up my mind and headed to a bar. It's just putting on a smile, isn’t it? As long as I could get Liam buried quickly, I would do anything. But that sketchy place was far beyond my capabilities as a novice. For an entire night, I gritted my teeth, enduring the discomfort, accepting one drink after another from strangers. I begged and pleaded, managing to convince only two gold-toothed bosses to open a bottle of expensive champagne. I endured, day after day.
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