The life trial system "If You Think You Can Do Better, Prove It" burst onto the scene like a traveling circus promising wonders. The idea was plain enough: "If you reckon someone's life is a mess, and you think you can do better, go ahead and prove it. There's a reward waiting if you do." Before I knew it, my whole family had me pegged for the fool in the middle of the show. There was my mother, dreaming of turning me into some grand goose; my husband, who'd spent years dodging his rightful share of the family load; and my son, mortified by the very sight of me. They shoved me onto the "judgment seat" like I was the villain of the tale. Every last one of them swore up and down that, given my place, they'd manage my life better than I ever could. The stakes? Well, if they pulled it off, my consciousness would be erased—gone, wiped out like a mistake on a chalkboard—and turned into their personal servant. On top of that, they'd waltz off with a cool million dollars. But if they couldn't? Then I'd be the one raking in three million dollars. Now that's a gamble for the ages, isn't it?
View MoreIn the simulation, Damion spent two years as a hands-off husband, leaving Subject Three to shoulder the dual burdens of earning money and managing the household.Finally, after those grueling years, Subject Three managed to save up a modest 15 thousand dollars. That same year, an unexpected pregnancy turned their world further upside down. But instead of joy, betrayal awaited. During the pregnancy, Damion had an affair.His excuse? "A wife should be magnanimous."Subject Three swallowed the pain, suppressing every ounce of anger and sorrow. After all, showing emotion would only prove she was a failure, right?The audience watching the scene unfold bristled with rage."This is outrageous! She should've ended it right there—gotten an abortion and divorced him!""You've got terrible taste in men, girl," another voice called out. "When you get that three million dollars, you'd better watch out for scumbags like him."I nodded in agreement.Back when I married Damion, I'd believed
Unfortunately, Damion couldn't barge in to teach Subject Two a lesson.In the first two months, Subject Two, armed with Damion's hard-earned savings, elevated her taste in fashion and polished her demeanor, striving to become the type of mother who would make all the kids in the class envy Sean during parent-teacher conferences.Meanwhile, Sean put his head down and focused on studying diligently.For a brief time, they seemed to have achieved a harmony of "a kind mother and a devoted son."But as the weeks wore on, both began to falter.Being a top-performing, multi-talented student and maintaining the façade of an elegant, picture-perfect mother demanded continuous effort, money, and energy. And that was exhausting.Eventually, the two conspirators decided on a shortcut: becoming internet celebrities.At first, Subject Two was on edge, worried the system would flag their plan as inappropriate. When no warnings came, she sighed in relief. "My mother's thinking was too rigid. Be
Subject Two never regulated how much screen time young Sean could have. A child with no discernment, Sean soon drowned in the endless sea of online stimuli, some of which were outright harmful. Every night, he stayed up scrolling on his phone until exhaustion overtook him, and every morning, he slept in, utterly incapable of waking up on time.Exposure to an endless stream of short, high-stimulation videos shattered his attention span, leaving him unable to focus in class. Worse, Subject Two offered no academic guidance, and soon, Sean's grades began to plummet. His behavior with classmates took a turn for the worse, too. Imitating crude antics he'd seen online, he managed to offend nearly everyone around him.The internet painted a glossy picture of wealthy children with sprawling homes and shiny toys, and this distorted Sean's perception. He began to resent his modest life, dismissing his family's conditions as beneath him.Even Subject Two found himself at a loss. He confront
Sean lifted his chin defiantly. "Hmph, you're a lousy mom. I'll do way better than you."I shook my head, not bothering to argue.The system asked again: [Who will go first?]With exaggerated confidence, Sean declared, "I'll go! Dad and I will become multimillionaires."The system's tone remained steady. [And in which areas do you believe you'll outperform the one being judged?]"In every area!" Sean puffed out his chest. "I'll be a kind, generous mom—one everyone in class will envy."[Understood. Since you are a minor, this trial will not erase your memory.] The system replied, offering him the leniency of youth.In the next moment, his consciousness was uploaded, creating another version of me, Subject Two.[To avoid redundancy, Subject Two will begin experiencing life from when Sean started elementary school.]The screen lit up with scenes from a chaotic morning. Subject Two was preparing for Sean's first year of elementary school.It began predictably enough—a disaster.
The audience sat in stunned silence, their collective bewilderment etched into the murmurs that followed."Why?" someone finally asked."Did she really not even make it to the college entrance exams? Not even to university?"The system displayed Subject One's dismal physics and chemistry scores, answering their questions.Truthfully, junior high physics and chemistry—though challenging—were not insurmountable. With enough grit, relentless memorization, and a dash of determination, most students could manage to scrape by. But not Subject One.How could she? A mother so adept at feigning pity to milk sympathy and resources had never cultivated habits of perseverance, effort, or discipline in herself—let alone her child. Reliance on others was her default, her creed.When Subject One reached an impasse in her studies, she didn't push through or seek solutions. She simply gave up. It was what her mother's instincts, projected onto her, dictated.And where were the encouraging teache
By the time Subject One started first grade at eight years old, she was already two years behind her peers. She graduated from elementary school at fourteen.The old bachelor from the neighboring village sneered at the television one day, pointing at some movie and saying, "In some parts of the world, kids her age could already have children." Then, turning to my mother, he offered his own twisted version of kindness. "I'll pay for her entire middle school education—three years' worth of expenses. After that, she can graduate and marry me. What do you say? You know how it is with village girls. They can't keep up in town schools, and girls can never outstudy boys anyway. Three years from now, what if she doesn't pass any exams? Worse, what if some little punk gets her pregnant, and she runs off with him? Then you'd be left with nothing."My mother didn't agree outright, but neither did she reject him.A few days later, the kind woman who had been sponsoring Subject One's education
I smiled without offering any rebuttal.The truth didn't need my defense. Those unwilling to believe would never be swayed by my words.In the simulation, a kind woman donated money to my mother as an act of genuine goodwill.Instead of gratitude, my mother's immediate response was suspicion. "Where did you get this money? You didn't… sell yourself, did you? I won't touch dirty money!"She said this while tightly clutching the cash.Through this benefactor, my mother learned something new—that having an education opened the door to better jobs and bigger paychecks.The next day, she marched Subject One to school.She stormed into the principal's office in tears, wailing dramatically, "Even if I have to beg on the streets, my daughter will go to school!"The audience watching this scene on the big screen was visibly moved. Some even whispered their admiration.I remained silent, my smile unwavering."That poor woman," someone murmured, "to sacrifice so much for her daughter."
The life trial system "If You Think You Can Do Better, Prove It" had been live for a week, but no one dared to sign up.The rules were simple, yet terrifying: if you could prove you could live someone else's life better than they did, you would win one million dollars. But the cost? The consciousness of the original person would be obliterated—essentially, a death sentence. On the other hand, if you failed to outperform them under identical circumstances, you would die instead.Nobody wanted to gamble their life or risk becoming the murderer of another.Yet here I was—the first one in the system.A robot escorted me to the front row, where cameras swiveled to capture every angle of my face. My mother, husband, and son sat further back, carefully avoiding my gaze. I stared at their guilty expressions and asked with a bitter smile, "So, all of you think you'd do better in my position?"My mother averted her eyes. "Of course! I gave you the best education money could buy. I wante
The life trial system "If You Think You Can Do Better, Prove It" had been live for a week, but no one dared to sign up.The rules were simple, yet terrifying: if you could prove you could live someone else's life better than they did, you would win one million dollars. But the cost? The consciousness of the original person would be obliterated—essentially, a death sentence. On the other hand, if you failed to outperform them under identical circumstances, you would die instead.Nobody wanted to gamble their life or risk becoming the murderer of another.Yet here I was—the first one in the system.A robot escorted me to the front row, where cameras swiveled to capture every angle of my face. My mother, husband, and son sat further back, carefully avoiding my gaze. I stared at their guilty expressions and asked with a bitter smile, "So, all of you think you'd do better in my position?"My mother averted her eyes. "Of course! I gave you the best education money could buy. I wante
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