A system glitch. That’s the only explanation for how I, a ruthless, take-no-prisoners protagonist from a revenge-thriller universe, ended up trapped in the body of a pathetic, doormat heroine in a tearjerker family drama. It happened right after the childhood-sweetheart-turned-golden-boy told me, with a face like ice, to give up my graduation dress to the family's "fake" daughter. I couldn't hold it in. Right then and there, I broke character. "If it kills you so much to see her wronged, why don't you buy her one?" "You haven't spent a single dime, yet here you are, banging the gavel like a judge." "Outsourcing your grand romantic gestures—you've really got this whole deep-devotion thing figured out, haven't you?" 01 The entire room froze in stunned silence. No one could have anticipated this. The biological daughter, who just yesterday had been shrinking into herself, desperately swallowing her pride to please this family, had suddenly snapped. I looked down at the faded t-shirt and cheap denim I was wearing. Then, I glanced at the mirror, taking in the hunched, cowering posture born from years of systemic submission. The original host of this body was the true, biological daughter of the Crawford family. Yet, she had to walk on eggshells just to buy a hair tie. Meanwhile, the adopted daughter—the golden child they had raised before finding her—had a walk-in closet bursting with this season's haute couture. And yet, she absolutely had to steal this one specific dress. It was pathetic. Utterly, suffocatingly pathetic. "Valerie, how... how could you say such a thing?" my father stammered, his eyes wide with shock. I whipped my head toward him. "Then what should I say? Should I bite my lip, dig my nails into my palms, and whisper, 'I understand'? And then show up to the senior formal in my jeans so my classmates can laugh me out of the room?" My mother's face went from paper-white to a furious red. "It's just a piece of fabric! What is the harm in letting Natalie wear it?" I let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "You said it yourself—it's just a piece of fabric. So what's the harm in letting me wear it?" I gestured wildly to the opulent room around us. "Look at yourselves. You’re worth hundreds of millions, and you have your two daughters fighting like dogs over a thousand-dollar dress. Does that sound right to you?" "And if you were only going to buy two dresses, why did you buy one in pink and one in blue? Were you terrified we wouldn't have something to fight over? Doesn't anyone with two daughters know you have to buy the exact same thing to avoid this?" My mother puffed up her chest, indignantly. "How were we supposed to know that!" "If you don't know, then learn! You spend all day scrolling through TikTok laughing at mindless drama, but you don't have basic common sense? What, just because being a parent doesn't require a license, you think you can just drive blindfolded and wreck people's lives?" My older brother, Connor, slammed his hand on the mahogany table and shot to his feet. "Watch how you speak to Mom and Dad!" "You're being incredibly selfish!" he barked. "If Natalie's dress hadn't been ruined, she wouldn't have even asked for yours." "Ruined? Three loose threads count as ruined now? By that metric, the thrift-store garbage I grew up wearing was straight-up post-apocalyptic survival gear." Standing off to the side, Natalie twisted her fingers together, looking like a wounded fawn. "Valerie, please don't be mad at Mom, Dad, or Connor. It was my fault. I said if we bought two colors, we could swap... Mom, Dad, Connor, blame me. I was being thoughtless. Let's just go, we're going to be late—" Smack! I shook out my stinging palm and looked at her coldly. "You're right. You were being thoughtless. Did you hear that?" "If you hadn't pulled this pathetic little stunt, we would have been out the door twenty minutes ago!" "Valerie, please don't be angry. I just thought you looked so much prettier in the blue..." Natalie covered her cheek, tears welling up, hovering perfectly on her lower lashes without falling. "Since you like the pink one so much, I'll give it back to you." "I know everything in this house was supposed to be yours. No matter how hard I try, I'm just an outsider. I can never make everyone happy. I should just leave the Crawfords and go back to my real home. I... I miss my real mom and dad." Smack! I backhanded her right on the other cheek. "Thanks for reminding me! You've threatened to go back to the trailer park eight hundred times. So go! You've been playing the 'adopted outsider' card for five years. The stray dogs in your old neighborhood wouldn't even recognize you anymore. Your biological parents have been dead for years, and you haven't visited their graves once. Don't stand here and play the filial orphan! Drop the fragile act before I slap you into a spinning top." Beside her, Declan Mercer’s face turned a dangerous shade of purple. He stepped forward, fists clenched. I shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. "What are you looking at? The stage has collapsed, are you still trying to get into character?" "She's still your sister, how could you lay your hands on her—" Smack! Another sharp slap echoed in the room. "I won't just hit her, I'll hit you too!" I spat. "You think your hands are clean? If you hadn't been fanning the flames, standing there whispering about how good she looked in the pink, would she have thrown a tantrum for it?" "You get a real rush out of watching the two of us fight over your table scraps of affection, don't you?" My brother Connor opened his mouth, ready to play the white knight. But he saw my hand raise again, and he clamped his jaw shut, swallowing his words. I rounded on him. "What are you looking at! Stand up and you're shorter than a tombstone. Lie down and you look like a feeding trough. I've seen overnight maxi-pads with more length and definitely more spine than you." "You—!" "You what?! You should be on your knees thanking God you share my bone structure, because your personality is garbage." "...You... you are completely unreasonable!" Declan touched his cheek, his eyes wide with utter disbelief. I stared him down. "Then leave! Don't you have your own house? You're here every other day." "You don't contribute a cent to this family, but you love standing around dictating our lives." "Who made you the moral arbiter of this house? God hasn't retired yet, so stop auditioning for the job." "God! I hate pretentious pricks!" 02 After my indiscriminate artillery fire, I got exactly what I wanted. I wore the pink dress to the senior formal. Truth be told, I didn't even like the color pink that much. But Natalie said she liked it. Which meant she absolutely wasn't going to get it. That’s right. In my original universe, I wasn't some flawless, morally pure protagonist. I was sharp-tongued, selfish, and a little bit wicked. Bottom line: I am not obligated to be anybody's doormat. Snapping back to the present, I spotted Natalie in the center of the ballroom, clinging to Declan's arm, looking utterly tragic. She had somehow dug up a vintage, oversized dress from nowhere. The ill-fitting, baggy cut made her look incredibly fragile, like a delicate flower battered by a storm. If we were following the original plotline, she had already done her rounds, crying to our classmates and playing the victim. Right on cue, just as I picked up a flute of champagne, a swarm of Natalie's loyal lackeys marched over, cornering me aggressively against the wall. "Valerie Crawford, you actually have the nerve to show your face? You stole Natalie's dress and forced her to wear that awful old thing. Do you have no shame?" "Exactly. And I heard you hit her? If Natalie wasn't so kind and forgiving, allowing you back into this family, you'd still be feeding pigs out in the sticks!" The surrounding students began to point and whisper. Countless stares laced with contempt locked onto me. Declan and Natalie slowly approached, parting the crowd like royalty. Natalie's eyes were red. She grabbed her lead lackey's arm, her voice so weak and trembling it was barely a whisper. "Please, stop. It was my fault for being thoughtless. Valerie loved the dress, it's only right I let her have it. Please don't fight with my sister over me..." The manipulation was so thick I could practically choke on it. I pinched the bridge of my nose. In the original book, this was the exact moment the original host would turn pale, dig her nails into her palms, and run away in tears under the crushing weight of their judgmental stares. But I am not the original host. 03 I turned my gaze to Lackey A, who was leading the charge. "Natalie told you that she allowed me back into the family? Out of the goodness of her heart?" The girl stood her ground, arrogant. "Isn't that the truth? You're just an illegitimate charity case. The whole school knows you're the fake daughter!" Hold on a second. The original host was brought back to the Crawford family in middle school. How on earth had this ridiculous rumor survived for four or five years? Did I miss something in the prologue? Or is the system broken and rewriting the plot on the fly? The system, glitching and stuttering like a busted PowerPoint presentation, finally responded in my head: [N-no, not a rewrite. The doormat protagonist staying silent for years is... is standard operational procedure.] Me: [Why the hell would anyone write it like that?] [Three hundred chapters of suffocating misunderstandings, followed by the family groveling in regret. It builds suspense. It... it sells really well.] Ah. I see. I steadied my breathing, gave a tight smile, and curled my index finger, motioning the girl closer. Lackey A eyed me warily. But her teenage curiosity won out, and she leaned in. I lowered my voice. "She lied to you." "Impossible! I don't believe you!" she snapped back. "I have the DNA reports confirming my relationship with my parents. She is the fake daughter. The kind with absolutely zero Crawford blood in her veins." The girl's face shifted, a flicker of doubt crossing her eyes. I took my time, letting the words drip slowly. "Also, I happen to know that the surplus inventory sitting in your father's factory relies entirely on Crawford Industries' purchasing order next quarter to stay afloat." "It doesn't matter if you believe me right now. But you're in an awful rush to offend me when you don't even have your facts straight. What if I am telling the truth? How exactly are you going to explain your family's bankruptcy to your father tomorrow?" I smiled sweetly, then turned to Lackey B and curled my finger again. Having just watched Lackey A's face drain of all color, Lackey B swallowed hard. Trembling, she leaned in. My lips curled up. "And you. I heard your family just submitted a massive partnership proposal to the Crawfords last week?" "Is that true?" She gasped, staring at me in horror. "How do you know that?" I didn't answer. I just gave her a deep, knowing smile. How did I know? I made it up, obviously. In these types of melodramas, side characters in the city don't exist unless their families are financially dependent on the main family's corporation. Within three minutes, the aggressive pack of wolves that had cornered me was thoroughly defanged. I had hit every single one of their weak spots. They didn't even dare to ask for confirmation. Their faces were uniformly ashen. Natalie hurried over, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Please, whatever you do, don't argue with my sister for my sake. If she insulted you, please don't be angry with her. She's just... rough around the edges." But the girls acted like they couldn't even hear her. Their eyes darted nervously, and they instinctively took two large steps back, creating a physical distance between themselves and Natalie. Natalie, who had been waiting for the grand spectacle of my public humiliation, suddenly found herself standing alone in an empty circle. She looked completely, utterly bewildered. 04 When we got home that night, Natalie cried in the living room for two solid hours. Which meant my mother lectured me for two solid hours. She berated me for speaking out of turn at the formal. For threatening my classmates. And worst of all, for exposing the truth about Natalie's adoption. My father sat in his armchair, silent. My brother Connor pointed a finger at me. "You went way too far! You completely destroyed Natalie's social circle today. How is she supposed to face anyone at school now?" I let out a cold laugh. "Face anyone? When she was spreading rumors about me, did she ever stop to think about how I would face anyone?" The original host had endured that slander for nearly five years. Talk about an absurd tolerance for pain. I rolled my eyes. "Besides, college applications are already locked in. Once September rolls around, everyone's going their separate ways. Does she really think she's the gravitational center of the universe? That people are just going to orbit her forever?" Natalie lifted her tear-streaked face. "B-but I'm staying in the city to attend Atherton University!" I shot her a look of pure disgust. "And everyone else is leaving! I'm leaving! Who is forcing you to stay?" Declan, seemingly materializing out of thin air, frowned deeply. "Valerie, the three of us agreed we were all going to apply to Atherton. Where else are you going?" I rubbed my temples, completely out of patience. "Bro, why are you literally everywhere?" The system panicked: [Because he's the male lead!] I ignored it. "Do you know what time it is? Why haven't you gone home? Go home, kid. Seriously, just go home." I took a deep breath and looked directly at my parents. "And let me clarify something right now. I never, not for a single second, planned on going to Atherton with these two." Declan's expression shattered. Because I had derailed the plot so drastically, his face cycled through the male lead's classic micro-expressions of disbelief, shock, and profound hurt at triple speed. The system's glitchy voice was screaming like a fire alarm in my head: [Ahhh, Host! You said it too early! Too early! You've completely shattered the narrative arc! This is going to spawn new settings and fatal bugs!] Me: [I'm sorry, I literally couldn't hold it in.] My mother's posture went rigid. "Absolutely not! You will attend Atherton! The three of you staying local means you can look out for each other." I laughed, a sharp, incredulous sound. "I scored a 1540 on my SATs. She scored an 1100. Am I out of my mind? Why would I stay at a mediocre local college just to 'look out' for her?" Hearing this, Natalie sobbed harder, tears and snot running down her face. "Valerie, I know you hate me... but Mom and Dad arranged this for us..." "Well, at least you're self-aware enough to know I hate you." She choked on a sob. I turned my fire back to the two architects of this nightmare. "Why would you arrange that? With my scores, do I look like I need you to arrange my future? You're actively trying to sabotage my life!" "If you're going to play favorites, at least use a little logic. Make it make sense!" I was genuinely baffled. The system chimed in weakly: [The original host was only found in middle school. The fake daughter is manipulative and good at acting. The parents raised her for eighteen years, and terrified that the adopted daughter would feel insecure, they overcompensated by neglecting the biological one.] Me: [...] Right on cue, my questioning triggered a primal switch in my mother. She became instantly hysterical. "How dare you look down on Atherton! You only scored thirty points higher than their cut-off last year anyway! Natalie only got in because the arts program had a lower threshold!" "Exactly!" I shot back. "Atherton is fine. But I don't want to go because you people are in this city, and she is going to be on that campus! Do you understand now?" "Why are you always so selfish?! Getting into Atherton was a miracle for Natalie. As her older sister, making a small sacrifice for the greater good of this family is the least you could do!" "Greater good?" I scoffed. "Since when does her academic failure constitute the 'greater good' of the Crawford family?" "What, did she build a nuclear submarine for the country? Did she ring the bell at the Stock Exchange for Crawford Industries?" "Her 'miracle' acceptance is the absolute ceiling of her intelligence. It shouldn't be the ceiling of my future." "Get it through your heads." "She's eighteen years old, and you still refuse to cut the cord. Fine! Let her be your precious daughter! Why the hell did you even bother bringing me back?" My mother’s finger trembled as she pointed at the door. "Fine! Get out! Get out of my house right now!" "I will pretend I never gave birth to you!" Hearing those words, I pressed my hands together in a posture of deep prayer and bowed. "Oh, my sweet mother!" "Those are the words I've been waiting for!" Before anyone could react, I snatched up the original host's little pink backpack and bolted out the front door. Just as I reached the main gate, my father chased after me. With a complicated expression, he shoved a credit card into my hand and lowered his voice. "Valerie, your mother is just speaking out of anger. There's a thousand dollars on this card. Find a place to stay for a few days. Be a good girl. Come back when she's cooled off." In the original host's memories, this was how it always played out. Every time she was abused or wronged, he would swoop in. Hand her some cash. Say a few soft words. And the original host would clutch onto it like a lifeline, convincing herself that at least her father loved her. I looked at the plastic card in my hand and let out a soft, mocking scoff. ... Back inside the house, after I left, Natalie's pitiful voice drifted through the foyer. "How is Valerie going to survive out there all alone... Declan, please go find her. Tell her to come back." "You did nothing wrong, Nat," Declan said, stopping her. The young man stared out the door where I had vanished, his voice thick with frustration. "Mr. and Mrs. Crawford, please don't be upset. She's just been spoiled." Natalie wept beautifully. "It's all my fault. I'll go beg her. If it comes down to it... I'll just leave the house." "But Mom, Dad, please don't worry. When you're older, if Valerie refuses to take care of you, I promise I will always be here to support you." Natalie was the picture of tragic devotion. Her earnest, tear-soaked promise brought both parents to tears. Mrs. Crawford wiped her eyes. "I raised you for eighteen years. You've been my real daughter for a long time. How could I ever let you suffer out there? In my heart, no one comes before you. Not even Valerie!" "Mom!" Natalie cried out, throwing her arms around the woman. Mr. Crawford rubbed his temples, looking exhausted. "If Valerie had even half of your empathy, this house wouldn't be a war zone. Let her stay out there for a few days! It's been too long since we've had the peace and quiet of our family of three." Connor gritted his teeth. "Exactly! Let her leave! Don't give her another dime. Let's see how long she lasts without the Crawford name!" "She's gotten used to the luxury of being a rich kid. Give it a few days. When she's broke and starving, she'll come crawling back on her knees begging us to let her in!" 05 In my original universe, my boss-babe revenge plot was at 99% completion. If the system hadn't glitched out, I wouldn't have been shoved into this literary garbage fire. A psychotic brother. A toxic, biased mother. A manipulative, green-tea antagonist. And a spineless original host. Getting hit with a bug was already annoying enough! And the first thing I had to deal with when I opened my eyes was that absolute moron of a childhood sweetheart. It was infuriating. Initially, I had hesitated about flipping the table so early in the story. But I had no choice. According to the original plot, tonight was the night Natalie secretly logged into the state college portal and altered Valerie's university preferences. Applying to her dream school was the first, and only, time the original host had ever stood up for herself and made a decision for her own life since returning to the Crawfords. But when her parents discovered the sabotage later, instead of punishing Natalie, they coldly told Valerie to "be the bigger person" and to "understand their difficult position as parents." That was the exact moment the original host finally realized her parents would never, ever love her. Devastated and completely broken, she tore up her acceptance letter and threw herself off a highway overpass. If I hadn't gone scorched earth the second I arrived, deliberately provoking the parents until I got myself kicked out of the house... considering my lack of synchronization with this new body, I might have just fast-tracked myself to the protagonist's suicide! Besides, before I started my rampage, I had discreetly checked my System Inventory. And I made a staggering discovery. 06 I found out the system bug wasn't just affecting the characters. When I glitched over, the system accidentally brought my entire financial portfolio from my previous universe with me, entirely intact. The city in this novel was framed as an economic powerhouse. But a quick search showed its annual GDP was only around 90 billion dollars. Meanwhile, my bank account had exactly 100 billion dollars sitting in it. Buying out Crawford Industries would be easier than buying a pack of gum. Pfft. Crawling back and begging them? Not in this lifetime. The System stammered: [H-host... you might have misunderstood something.] I raised an eyebrow. [Misunderstood what?] [The exchange rate between the two universes. It's... vastly different.] My heart skipped a beat. A profound sense of dread washed over me. [Wait, explain yourself! What do you mean exchange rate?] I demanded. [How much of a difference are we talking about?] 07 System: [Roughly... 100,000,000 to 1.] [A HUNDRED MILLION TO ONE?!] I literally screamed out loud in the street. Cold, hard math spun wildly in my brain. The color drained from my face. Trembling, I did the calculation over and over in my head. 100 billion... divided by 100 million... One... One thousand dollars?!
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