The System ordered me to adopt the true billionaire heiress. Its instructions were clear: scold her and bully her every single day to forge her into someone with an unbreakable, iron-willed personality. Once she was finally claimed by her ridiculously wealthy family, I would be rewarded with a massive payout. I nodded viciously. "That’s easy. I absolutely hate kids!" Sixteen years later, her biological family and I finally crossed paths at the gates of her high school. I was standing there in a pair of cheap flip-flops, holding two greasy street-cart hot dogs. Her parents had pulled up in a fleet of luxury SUVs, their arms full of sixteen extravagant gifts—one to make up for every birthday they’d missed. The wealthy matriarch looked me up and down with poorly disguised disgust. "It must have been so hard for you all these years." The fake heiress leaned against her mother, looking like a frightened little deer. "Sister, please don't make them send me away." The true heiress shot them a look like they were aliens. Then, she sprinted straight past them, beelined for me, and snatched one of the hot dogs right out of my hand. "Mom! I told you to stop eating this junk!" 1 When I found the true heiress by a dumpster in a back alley, she was barely a month old. She was painfully frail. Even her cries were as weak as a dying kitten’s. But the moment I picked her up, she stopped crying. Those big, round eyes stared up at me, suddenly curving into happy little crescents. I furrowed my brows and let out a cold scoff. "Don't think you can bewitch me with that look." "I'm only keeping you for the money." The System chimed in: [...Then why are you gently pinching her cheeks?] I quickly yanked my hand back. Damn it, I was bewitched! I quickly regained my senses. Sticking to my villainous parenting principles, I went to the pharmacy and bought the absolute cheapest baby formula on the shelf. But she didn't seem to like it. Her little nose wrinkled, and her eyes filled with grievance. I sneered relentlessly. "You're awfully picky. Drink it or starve." Instead of crying, she babbled softly, reaching out her tiny hand to wrap around my index finger and giving it a gentle shake. Early the next morning, I picked up three extra shifts at the diner. That night, I bought the premium, organic formula that actually tasted good. The System: [...Is this part of the evil plan?] I snapped back out of sheer embarrassment: "If she doesn't drink the good stuff, she won't grow! And if she doesn't grow, how am I supposed to trade her for the cash?!" That night, she was exceptionally quiet in her crib. I tossed and turned, getting up every single minute to check if she was still breathing. I even frantically Googled: "Is it normal for babies not to cry?" By the sixth time I leaned over the crib, I finally woke her up. The System: [...What exactly are you doing?] I breathed a sigh of relief, trying to cover my tracks: "I was just making sure she wasn't dead..." When the little squirt grew into a healthy three-year-old, I finally had the chance to unleash my wicked nature. I pinched her chubby little cheeks and whispered like a demon: "Starting today..." "You will tie your own shoelaces!" The System: [?] 2 Maybe it was just good genetics, but the true heiress was incredibly smart. She quickly learned to tie her own shoes, put herself to bed, feed herself, and even wash her own little socks in the sink. The System asked numbly: [What kind of abuse is this supposed to be?] "You don't get it." I chuckled evilly. My master plan was only just beginning. "Next, I'm going to make her learn how to mop the floors, cook the meals, and do all the dirty, exhausting chores." "I'm going to turn her into my personal Cinderella." The System finally agreed: [Ah, now that is the right direction.] What I didn't expect was for her to be so unbelievably obedient. She did exactly whatever I told her to do. But as her strict, cruel mother, I couldn't allow a single mistake. So, when she accidentally knocked over the mop bucket, I put my hands on my hips and scolded her ruthlessly. "You're so clumsy! Your real, rich parents are going to hate you when they see this!" Tears welled up in her eyes, and she ran into her room crying. I panicked, hurrying over to press my ear against her door. The crying inside grew quieter, and my anxiety skyrocketed. "Oh no, what do I do? Did she pass out from crying too hard?" The System: [Isn't that a bit of an exaggeration?] I paced back and forth, nodding to myself: "You're right. I'll give it five more minutes..." The System: [That's more like it...] "Four minutes... three minutes... one minute. Forget it, I'm going in!" Before I even finished my sentence, I shoved the door open. When I rushed in, she was sitting at her little desk, drawing. I scooped her up into my arms, keeping my face stern as I tried to explain myself: "I was just talking nonsense earlier. You're so cute, your parents would never hate you." But she just handed the drawing to me. "Mommy." It was a drawing of a big stick figure holding hands with a little stick figure. She rested her head on my shoulder. "I don't want anyone else. I just want Mommy." I fell silent. She reached up and patted my cheek. "Mommy, don't cry." I turned my head away. "I'm not crying." 3 I realized that scolding her was completely useless. It only ended up making me cry every single time. So, I changed my tactics. I bought a stack of flashcards and aggressively forced her to learn how to read. The System: [And what is this supposed to accomplish?] I was brimming with confidence: "You wouldn't understand. I'm going to crush her spirit with academic pressure." On the first day, I taught her the words "You, Me, Him." On the second day, I taught her "Love, Hate, Like, Dislike." On the third day, she put it all together. Like a little chirping bird, she chased me around the apartment yelling, "I love Mommy! I love Mommy!" I blushed furiously and threw the flashcards on the floor. Damn it, it didn't work at all! Right before she started elementary school, I needed to officially get her birth certificate and Social Security card sorted out. That was when I realized I hadn't even given her a real name yet. I had just been calling her "kiddo." The System: [This is a crucial plot point.] [You need to give her a name she will never forget, something that brings her pain and struggle.] [I suggest naming her something truly unfortunate. Something that constantly reminds her she's a burden, like 'Misery' or 'Sorrow'.] "A burden..." I thought about it all night. The next day, I confidently filled out the legal paperwork and bragged to the System about my success. "I took your advice. I gave her a name that will truly torment her." The System: [Oh? Did you finally figure it out?] I slapped the birth certificate down in front of her. "From now on, your name is Dawn Miller!" The System: [?] I laughed triumphantly. "The kid absolutely hates waking up early, so I named her Dawn! Won't she be furious having to hear that every day?" The System: [...] The next second, Dawn threw her arms around my leg, looking up at me with absolute adoration. "Mommy, thank you for letting me have your last name!" Huh? This wasn't going according to plan. 4 Once she started school, I gave her strict orders that she must study hard. Dawn obediently agreed, and her personality grew much more mature. She no longer ran around screaming "I love Mommy" all day. Instead, the moment she got home, she did the chores, finished her homework, and even made the bed for me before going to sleep. I boasted to the System: "Look! We're finally growing estranged!" "This proves my evil parenting plan is progressing perfectly!" Yet, I couldn't resist secretly creeping into her room at night just to make sure she was okay. The next day after school, she walked up to me holding two greasy street-cart hot dogs. I glared at her fiercely. "Where did you get the money for those?!" Dawn looked up, blinking innocently. "Didn't you secretly slip five dollars into my backpack, Mom?" "...I dropped that in there by accident!" Dawn smirked. "Then you were also 'accidental' the day before yesterday, and last week, and last month..." I quickly cut her off, snatching the hot dogs away. "Stop talking! This is junk food! Who said you could eat this?!" Under her pitiful, longing gaze, I devoured both hot dogs in three bites. Two hours after we got home, I walked into her room carrying a plate of premium, organic sausages I had cooked myself. "Look at this! This is what you call healthy!" Dawn didn't say a word, but her eyes sparkled as she ate the plate clean. The System: [And what exactly is this?] I walked away fully satisfied. "What do you know? I was just making her act as my royal poison tester." 5 Dawn was a genius. She practically got straight A's on every test. Finally, during her third-grade finals, she only scored a 98 on her English exam. I seized the opportunity, keeping my face dead serious. "How could you be so careless? Why did you lose those two points?!" Dawn lowered her head, admitting her mistake, and silently walked into her room. The System: [Yes! This is great! You're finally...] Before it could even finish, I was already staring at Dawn's retreating back, silently shedding tears. "Oh God, what have I done!" The System: [...You literally didn't even do anything.] A few minutes later, Dawn came into the kitchen to start cooking and found me squatting in the corner, crying. I immediately jumped up and aggressively wiped my face. Dawn looked at my red-rimmed eyes. "Mom, are you crying again?" "I'm not crying! The smoke from the stove got in my eyes!" Dawn sighed. "Mom, I promise I'll get a 100 next time." I shot back: "What do you know?!" "I know." Dawn leaned against my shoulder, gently patting my back. "I know that Mom loves me very much." I stiffened, secretly wrapping an arm around her shoulder. The System: [...Aren't you supposed to be teaching her a harsh lesson?] Me: "Shut up! This is called playing the long game! Once she fully trusts me, then I'll hurt her deeply!" But I waited a long, long time, and that opportunity never came. Instead, what came was Dawn running home from school in tears. I hadn't seen Dawn cry in a very, very long time. The moment she walked through the door, she slumped over the table. I paced around her anxiously, practically begging her to tell me what was wrong, until she finally sobbed out the truth. "They said... they said I'm not your real biological child!" "Oh, is that all?" I let out a massive sigh of relief. "Yeah, I found you next to a dumpster." Dawn froze. "...Are you serious?" 6 "Yeah." I was completely blunt about it. "I've told you that a million times." I used to threaten her all the time that she came from the trash. But she never thought it was actually true. Her lower lip trembled, and she looked like she was about to wail again. But I asked her: "So what?" Dawn's brain short-circuited, and the crying abruptly stopped. I asked again: "Am I good to you?" "...Yes." "Did I raise you all these years?" "...Yes." "Does the fact that you're not biologically mine change anything about your life right now?" Dawn thought about it really, really hard. Eventually, her eyes grew brighter and brighter, and she answered loudly: "No!" "Then what's the problem?" I threw my hands up in victory. The System: [This was supposed to be a devastating psychological trauma for the true heiress.] I coughed lightly: "Mind your business. I operate on my own rhythm." The next day, Dawn went to school. Those annoying boys started mocking her again for being an abandoned orphan. Dawn stood up perfectly straight, tilting her chin up proudly: "So what?" "Tommy, your clothes are always wrinkled and dirty. Your parents don't even care enough to do your laundry—they definitely don't love you!" "Bobby, you fail every single class, and your parents don't even show up to the meetings. They've totally given up on you!" "Hunter, you eat junk food for lunch every day and your parents never stop you. They clearly don't care about your health!" The three boys stared at each other, their faces turning beet red. "Well... you're still a dumpster baby!" Dawn remained impossibly arrogant: "So what?" "My mom loves me! I have nothing to be afraid of!" 7 Life with Dawn went on, day by day. With her stellar grades, she got into the best public magnet high school in the city. Overjoyed, I scraped together the money to move us into an apartment closer to her new school. When Dawn found out how expensive the rent was, she immediately volunteered to take on tutoring gigs. I panicked. "Absolutely not!" Dawn blinked. "Why not?" I struggled for a moment before blurting out: "Tutoring will distract you from studying! If you don't get into an Ivy League college, you won't make enough money to support me when I'm old!" Dawn nodded seriously. "That makes perfect sense." I breathed a sigh of relief. But I was terrified she might actually take me seriously and drop out to wash dishes just to help me pay bills. So I quickly added: "Supporting you for a few more years is no problem for me. This is what you call a long-term stock investment." Dawn smiled. "Thank you, Mom." I pulled out a brand-new backpack and tossed it to her. "Here. Found it on the street." Dawn: "Mom, my old backpack is still fine." I glared at her viciously. "I told you to use it, so use it! Stop arguing!" Dawn smiled brightly, taking the bag. Right before she left for school, she poked her head back in: "Mom, I'm really craving one of those street cart hot dogs today." I waved her off dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, got it." That evening, I showed up early at the school gates, holding two hot dogs, ready to pick her up. Suddenly, an absurdly expensive luxury car rolled to a stop right in front of the school. Under the shocked and envious gazes of all the parents, four people stepped out. Leading them was a beautifully maintained couple dripping in Old Money elegance. Behind them was a pair of siblings. The younger sister was clutching her brother's blazer, looking incredibly nervous. The brother was looking around in disgust, clearly feeling it was beneath him to breathe the same air as the rest of us. The System, which had been silent for ages, suddenly pinged: [The Kensington family has arrived to pick up the true heiress.] I froze in place. The System had told me that once I raised Dawn to be sixteen, her biological parents would come for her. I just never expected it to happen so abruptly.
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