I Became Rich With My System

Chapter 1

"Now pick it up… use your mouth.”

The words came, then laughter followed. Loud laughter. Some of them didn’t even try to hide it. It filled the hallway like nothing serious was happening, like this was just a joke to them.

John Davis was on his knees, on the cold floor. His head was down, eyes staring at the bread in front of him. He didn’t move at first. Not because he wanted to fight it… but because he already knew how this always ends.

The bread was dirty. Someone had already stepped on it. You could even see the shoe marks on it. But still… it was food. The only food he had for the day.

A boy stepped closer. “Hurry up,” he said, sounding annoyed. “Don’t waste our time.”

Another one added, “Don’t make us say it again.”

John didn’t reply. He already understood.

Slowly, he leaned forward. His movement was quiet, like someone who has done this before too many times. He picked the bread with his mouth. The taste of dust and dirt hit him immediately, but he still bite it.

Because what else can he do?

The moment he obeyed, the laughter became louder. Some of them started pointing at him.

“Look at him.”

“He’ll do anything.”

“There’s nothing left in him.”

Their voices mixed together, mocking him without stopping. But John didn’t react much. He has heard worse before… many times.

Tears started forming in his eyes. He tried to hold it back, but they still came out. Slowly running down his face. His shoulders shook a little, not because he was trying to fight them… but because he was trying not to break completely.

That bread… it was supposed to be his lunch. Something small he planned to eat quietly. Alone. But things like that never really works for him.

So he kept eating.

Even when it felt heavy in his mouth.

Even when he didn’t want to.

His hand trembled a bit as he held the remaining piece. The faint scars on his skin was still there. Fresh enough to remind him.

Just last week… they held him down. Pressed something hot against his hand. He could still remember it clearly. The pain. The way they laughed. Like it was nothing.

Sandra was there that day too.

Standing beside David.

Watching.

At some point… she even smiled.

That memory made his chest feel tight, so he forced himself to stop thinking about it. He focused back on the present, lowering his head again as he continued eating.

Fighting back?

Yeah… that thought had come before.

But it never stayed.

Because he already knew the truth. He wasn’t strong enough. Not brave enough. And definitely not supported by anyone.

They were stronger. Richer. Protected.

People like him… don’t win against people like them.

At the center of it all was David.

Even without looking, John could feel his presence. David didn’t need to shout. Didn’t need to prove anything. Everyone already knew.

He was the son of a local official.

That alone said everything.

After a while, David finally spoke.

“This is boring,” he said calmly. “He’s not even reacting.”

Some of the others laughed a little, agreeing with him. Their interest was already gone. One by one, they started leaving.

They left, and their footsteps slowly faded away down the hallway. The place became quiet again.

John was still there, alone. The silence felt heavy, and the taste of dirt was still in his mouth. He tried to chew the bread, but it wasn’t easy. It felt rough, and somehow heavy too.

Still… he forced himself to swallow it.

Because if he threw it away, then what?

There was a big chance he won’t have anything else to eat for the rest of the day.

People always talk.

They look at him and say he eats too much. That he is already too fat. Every time he hears that, it hurts… even if he doesn’t show it.

The truth is different.

John doesn’t even eat enough most times. Not because he don’t want to, but because there is no money. Simple as that.

And yet… his body never change.

No matter how little he eats, he still looks the same.

Like even that small hope doesn’t want to come to him.

He was still trying to finish the last piece when suddenly—

A strong push hit him from behind.

He didn’t even see it coming.

His body went forward, fast, and he fell hard on the floor. His hands managed to catch him a little, stopping his face from hitting the ground fully, but the pain still came quickly.

Sharp.

Immediate.

But he didn’t make any sound.

He already knows… showing pain only makes things worse.

A voice came from behind him.

“Not only fat… but ugly too. You’re hurting our eyes.”

The boy laughed a little after saying that, then just walked away like it was nothing. Like John was nothing.

John stayed on the floor for a moment.

He didn’t move.

His mind felt empty.

Then slowly… he pushed himself up.

He used the back of his hand to wipe his face, trying to clean the tears, but they didn’t really stop.

He always thought he was already used to this.

That maybe his heart had gone numb after everything.

But moments like this…

They remind him that it’s not true.

He can still feel it.

It still hurts.

And he can still cry… even if he don’t want to.

After some time, he picked up his bag and left the school quietly.

No one stopped him.

No one cared.

He walked home slowly. Each step felt heavy. The whole day kept replaying in his head, following him like a shadow.

The road felt longer than usual.

By the time he got home, he was already tired. Not just his body… everything.

There was nothing waiting for him there.

No warmth.

No comfort.

Nothing that feels like a home.

As soon as he opened the door—

Slap!

The sharp sound cut through the air.

Then voices.

Loud voices.

His parents… arguing again.

It wasn’t new. It happens almost everyday.

But that doesn’t mean it don’t affect him.

His father was there, sitting nearby. The smell of alcohol and smoke was strong around him. He looked like a man who already gave up on life a long time ago.

He doesn’t take responsibility for anything.

He just drinks… gambles… and wastes whatever money he gets.

His mother wasn’t much better.

She works long hours, yes. As a waitress in a nightclub. But the money never stays.

It disappears fast.

Into drinks.

Into small, useless things.

And into taking care of a man who gives nothing back.

They fought almost every day, shouting, hitting, and hurting each other like it had become a normal thing in the house, and sometimes, when their anger grew too much, it would fall on John as well, turning him into nothing more than a punching bag they could release everything on.

The small pocket money John had was never given to him; it was something he earned with his own hands, doing whatever work he could find. Sometimes he helped neighbors clean their houses, sometimes he tried to fix broken faucets even when he didn’t really know how, and other times he worked in the fields, bending under the sun just to earn a few coins. It didn’t matter what the job was, as long as he could get a little money to buy food.

But even that little money didn’t always stay with him. His father would take it without asking, using it to buy cigarettes or cheap alcohol, and then say the same thing every time, that John was already too big and didn’t need food, that he should go on a diet and instead work harder to bring in more money.

At some point, John stopped expecting anything different. It wasn’t just the boys at school who treated him badly; even in his own house, he wasn’t safe from it. Sometimes he would wonder quietly to himself if he really didn’t deserve even a little respect, or if everything was really because of how he looked.

That afternoon, he stayed alone in his room, with only his phone in his hand. He opened social media, trying to distract himself, scrolling through the lives of rich people who spent money so easily, showing off branded clothes, expensive things, and meals he could never afford no matter how hard he worked. For a moment, it gave him a strange feeling, something close to happiness, or maybe just a way to forget his own life for a while.

But that feeling didn’t last long.

His finger suddenly stopped moving on the screen, and his hand began to tremble slightly as he stared at a video that was quickly spreading online. It didn’t take long for him to realize what it was. It was him. The moment at school. The humiliation. Everything.

People were watching it. Laughing. Sharing it. Enjoying it.

No one was trying to help. No one thought it was wrong.

The weight of it pressed down on him all at once, making it hard to even breathe properly.

This world… it really was cruel.

He didn’t understand why people could be like that. He didn’t understand what he had done to deserve it. Was he really born into this world just to be bullied and laughed at?

He felt tired. Not just his body, but everything inside him.

“So… do I really have to end my life?” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible even to himself, the thought coming and going like something he didn’t fully want to face. If he went back to school tomorrow, they would laugh at him again, maybe even worse than before, and he didn’t know if he could go through that again.

After sitting there for a while, he slowly stood up and left the room. His stomach was making noise from hunger, but there was nothing inside him except the memory of the dirty bread he had eaten earlier and later thrown up.

As soon as he stepped out, his father’s voice came at him again, sharp and impatient, telling him to hurry up and get some money so he could eat. Before John could even say anything, a punch landed on him, sending his weak body down to the dirty floor.

The pain spread, but John didn’t cry or complain. He simply pushed himself back up, steadying his body, and answered in a low voice that he would try.

He couldn’t help but think of how other people had fathers who would do anything for their children, fathers who protected them and supported them no matter what, but his own father had never been like that.

John hated them. Both of them.

But people always said that no matter what, they were still his parents, and that he wasn’t supposed to hate them.

Yet those same parents didn’t care about him at all.

So what was he supposed to feel?

He stepped out of the house, not even knowing where he was going, only knowing that he wanted to get away from that place. His feet kept moving on their own, carrying him further and further until he passed by a narrow alley, where he saw something that made him pause for just a second.

His mother was there, with another man, standing close together, kissing without any care for who might see them.

It wasn’t something new. He already knew about it, and it was one of the reasons why the house was always filled with fights and shouting.

But now, he didn’t feel anything about it anymore.

He simply looked away and continued walking, a little faster this time, as if trying to leave everything behind.

Then a voice suddenly called out, sharp and familiar.

“Hey, piggy!”

John stopped.

His body froze for a moment as he saw David and his group ahead. Panic rose in his chest, and he quickly turned, trying to leave before they could fully notice him, but it was already too late. One of them ran after him, shouting for him to stop, and no matter how hard John tried, he was caught easily, just like always.

They dragged him to a small, abandoned field, and before long, the beating started again. There was no reason for it. There never needed to be. Whenever they felt like it, John was the one they came to.

The sky darkened, and heavy rain began to fall, soaking everything within seconds, but none of them stopped. David stepped forward and stomped on John’s stomach with all his strength, not caring about the condition of the body beneath him, which had already grown weak and cold.

John could barely move, but he still forced out a question in a weak voice, asking what he had done wrong to deserve this.

David looked down at him, almost bored, and replied that there was no real reason, that John was simply fat, ugly, and easy to beat, and that was enough for them. Then he said he was bored and told the others to leave.

And just like that, they walked away, leaving John lying there in the rain.

The cold water kept falling on him, mixing with the pain in his body, and for a moment, he felt like he had reached his limit. He was tired of everything. Tired of the pain, the humiliation, the life he had been living.

He didn’t want to continue anymore.

Then, suddenly, a strange voice appeared, not from around him, but from somewhere deeper, as if it was speaking directly inside his mind.

(Do you want to change your destiny?)

John’s eyes moved slightly, trying to focus as a strange screen appeared in front of him, floating in the air despite the rain.

(Do you want to change your destiny?)

He didn’t understand what it meant, or where it came from, but in that moment, none of that mattered.

“Yes…” he answered weakly.

His body finally gave in, collapsing completely onto the wet ground as the rain continued to pour over him.

(The new owner of the system has been determined.)

(The process of merging with the new owner will begin soon…)

(10%…)

(50%… 80%…)

(100%…)