I Became Rich With My System

Chapter 2

“Hah—!”

John woke up suddenly, pulling in a sharp breath like he had been drowning. His chest rose and fell quickly as he stared at the ceiling, his heart still beating fast from what he thought was a nightmare. He had just seen it again—being beaten, laughed at, treated like nothing…

But after a few seconds, his expression slowly changed.

That wasn’t a dream.

It really happened.

John raised a hand and ran it through his messy hair, still trying to calm himself down, then slowly looked around the room. The walls, the small bed, the cracked ceiling… it was his room. He was already home.

For a moment, confusion appeared in his eyes.

He clearly remembered collapsing in the rain… so who brought him back?

Before he could think too much about it, the bedroom door suddenly opened with force, the loud sound making him flinch slightly. His body tensed, and he quickly turned his head toward the door.

His mother stood there.

Her face looked irritated, almost like she had been waiting to shout at him.

“So, you’re finally awake?” she said with a cold voice, crossing her arms. “You useless and troublesome child. You fainted in the field and people had to carry you back. Do you know how embarrassing that was for me?”

John stayed quiet.

“They were saying I don’t feed you,” she continued, her tone full of annoyance. “They don’t understand that feeding you is just a waste of money.”

Those words…

Even though he was used to harsh things, hearing that from his own mother still felt heavy in his chest.

But he didn’t argue.

He never does.

His mother didn’t even wait for a response before continuing.

“Hurry up and pack your things,” she said, already sounding impatient. “I’m sending you to your grandmother’s house.”

John blinked once, slowly.

“I’m divorcing your father,” she added, as if it was nothing important. “And I’m going to marry someone better. I’m not going to waste my life with that useless man anymore.”

Her words came out easily, without hesitation.

“And don’t even think he’ll take care of you,” she continued. “He won’t. So you might as well go live with your grandmother and take care of her instead. At least you’ll be useful for something.”

John lowered his gaze slightly.

His fingers tightened on the bedsheet, but he still didn’t say anything.

“It’s far from your school,” she went on, her voice sharp. “But you can just wake up earlier and walk. Consider it exercise. Or what, are you not embarrassed walking around with that kind of body?”

Although his mother’s words had been harsh, there was something in them that John couldn’t ignore—a small, almost invisible concern. It wasn’t much, but he felt it. Maybe she did care, in her own way.

If she left, he thought, it would be worse. His father, always drunk, always angry, would surely take his frustrations out on him instead. Maybe that’s why his mother’s voice trembled ever so slightly when she spoke—beneath the harshness, a worry that he might not survive alone.

John packed slowly, carefully. Only the essentials: his school uniform, books, a few personal items. Even so, it wasn’t much—just enough to fill a large, worn-out backpack that had seen better days. Each item he packed felt heavy, as if carrying not only his belongings but also the weight of everything that had happened to him.

Then, as he zipped the last compartment, a thought struck him. Something strange. Something he had tried to ignore.

“The voice… that asked me before I fainted… was it just a dream? Imagination, maybe,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

(Not imagination, master!)

John froze, his eyes widening as a sharp, buzzing sound filled his ears. A screen appeared in front of him, hovering in midair, glowing faintly. He stumbled backward in shock, his backpack falling to the floor with a heavy thud.

“What… what is this?” he whispered, reaching out instinctively toward the screen.

Before he could touch it, the words on the screen shifted, rearranging themselves as if reading his mind.

(Welcome, Master!)

(I am the system that will help you change your life for the better.)

(Wealth, power, strength, popularity—everything you desire can be obtained easily!)

(Are you willing to carry out all the missions of the system and receive the rewards?)

John’s heart pounded violently. Shock. Fear. Confusion. Curiosity. All at once.

“What… rewards?” he asked, his voice shaking.

(Rewards vary. Randomly assigned, depending on the difficulty of each mission.)

(Are you willing?)

John swallowed hard, hesitating for only a moment. His life had been nothing but suffering, and the chance to change even a small part of it was too tempting to ignore.

“Yes…” he whispered, almost to himself.

(The master has approved the contract with the system.)

(Congratulations! You have officially joined the Instant Wealth System.)

(You receive $500 as a reward for joining the system.)

(Your level will increase regularly for joining the system.)

(Your level will continue to increase by performing various missions of the system.)

(For now, as you are still weak, you should eat and rest immediately.)

(The system will return when your condition improves.)

The strange holographic screen flickered once more and then vanished, leaving John alone on the floor. His body felt heavy, and his mind buzzed with questions. Was it real… or just another trick of his imagination?

He didn’t have time to ponder for long. One thing was certain: he needed to prepare. Now.

John slowly rose to his feet, his limbs stiff from the previous day’s rain and the beating he had endured. He moved with quiet purpose, finishing his morning routine as quickly as he could. His mother had been impatient since early morning—she was leaving soon with her lover for another city, abandoning her husband, abandoning the chaos she had left behind.

Once he was ready, he slung his large, worn-out backpack over his shoulders. Each strap felt heavy, not just from the contents, but from the invisible weight of his life so far.

Stepping outside, John immediately noticed the familiar stench of alcohol in the air. His father had returned, drunk as usual, his voice already rising in argument.

“You think you can just leave me to live in misery and die at my hands? Are you crazy?!” his father roared, staggering slightly as he tried to grab his wife.

“You even brought our son!”

“Son?” his mother snapped, stepping back but not calming. “Since when do you consider that child yours? Isn’t he just my son? When have you ever taken responsibility as a father? Never! I’ll leave him with his grandmother. Leave him there! Leave him alone!”

Her voice trembled with anger and contempt as she continued, “You can keep drinking, gambling, chasing women—I don’t care. He’s not your problem!”

John stood frozen, feeling the chaos swirl around him. Neither parent noticed—or cared—how his heart thumped inside his chest, how his small body tensed under the pressure of every shouted word.

“Let’s go, John! Move!” his mother barked.

John felt a strange warmth in his chest, small but undeniable, as he realized that his mother, in her own way, cared for him—even if only a little. She was sending him to his grandmother, yes, leaving him behind, but that tiny flicker of concern made him happy, like a candle burning faintly in the dark. He knew it was fragile, probably false hope, because soon she would leave with her boyfriend and forget about him entirely.

Sad, wasn’t it?

He had always been thirsty for even a scrap of affection from his parents, and even this fleeting care felt like treasure.

Suddenly, the chaos of the house erupted again.

“Go away already! Leave me alone! Don’t think of me as your father anymore, you son of a—!”

John winced as his father, drunk and furious, hurled a liquor bottle toward him. It smashed near his head with a terrifying crash.

“You’re out of your mind, Davies! Are you okay, son?” his mother cried, her voice trembling with worry.

And yet, even after being hit, John didn’t cry or shout. He only smiled faintly, watching as his mother’s worry poured over him. He was pathetic, he knew it, but a small part of him felt comforted by her concern.

“I’m fine, mom…” he muttered softly, brushing the pain away.

“Get the hell out of my house!” Davies roared, swaying slightly as if the room itself hated him.

Without another word, his mother grabbed John’s chubby arm, pulling him along as she sobbed quietly. Outside, the man she loved waited in the car, oblivious to the chaos inside, unaware of everything that had just happened.

By the time they reached the car, John’s head still throbbed from the bottle, but relief washed over him as he saw his mother’s boyfriend kneeling down, carefully inspecting the wound. He looked gentle, competent, someone who at least wanted to help.

“Eliza, I’m sorry that I only now dare to ask you to go. It should have been a long time ago,” he said, his voice low, almost apologetic.

“Never mind,” Eliza replied, forcing a small smile. “It’s okay. You’re working for us, collecting money for the future. I don’t mind.”

“But… we’re leaving your son with his grandmother?” he asked, hesitation creeping into his voice.

Eliza nodded firmly. “Yes. He needs to continue his schooling. He’s going to an elite school on a scholarship from the principal. There’s no way he’s coming with us. Are you okay with that, John?”

John just nodded quietly, the words barely leaving his lips.

That’s right—he was going to an elite school on a scholarship. A scholarship he earned not through his own effort alone, but because his mother had accompanied the principal to a nightclub.

It wasn’t something John liked to think about, yet he couldn’t deny it. His schoolmates looked down on him, whispered behind his back, and bullied him for it. And still… he felt a small flicker of happiness.

Because it was a sign, in the strangest way, that his mother had cared. That she wanted him to go to a good school, no matter what the cost.

Eliza was beautiful—her beauty was undeniable. That was why Davies had loved her at first sight. They had married for love, or at least what they called love. But love alone wasn’t enough to sustain a marriage. There had to be responsibility, commitment, and care.

Davies had none of that. He demanded, he drank, he gambled, he played. Love alone couldn’t survive in a house built on selfishness.

The car stopped in front of a small, quiet house, its walls worn by time.

“You just go straight there,” Eliza said, her voice firm but soft. “I can’t meet your grandmother. I’m afraid she’ll be angry because I divorced her son.”

His grandmother—Davies’s mother—had never agreed with their marriage. She had avoided living near her son and his chaos. Yet, she had always loved John, and that love had been something he clung to, even when everything else in his life felt cruel and empty.

John stepped out of the car, adjusting the strap of his worn backpack. The house looked deserted, quiet, like a place frozen in time. His heart lifted with hope—finally, he thought, he would be with someone who cared.

He knocked on the door, his fist hesitant against the wood.

No answer came.

“John? You’re Davies’s son, right? Why are you here?” a kind voice asked from behind him. “Your grandmother passed away a week ago. Didn’t your father tell you? He asked us to take care of her funeral.”

John’s legs went weak.

How could his father not say anything? Not a word about the death of the one person in the world who had truly loved him?

“John? Are you okay?” the voice continued gently. “Come inside, I’ll help you. I have the key to your grandmother’s house. Since you’re already here, I’ll leave the keys with you, alright?”

John stood frozen, a strange mix of gratitude and despair pressing down on him. He had imagined warmth, love, and care—finally a place where he could be safe and cherished. But reality hit him like a stone in the chest: his grandmother was gone.

And yet…

(Don’t worry, Master. The system will help Master be loved by many people!)

The familiar, mechanical voice sounded in his mind, like a spark in the darkness.

John blinked, half-smiling, half-tearing up.

It was only a comforting remark, probably meaningless. But he felt… grateful. Somehow, even now, the system’s presence gave him hope.