Scumbag System Manhua

Right after returning from a business trip, Cecelia Moore held her ultrasound report as she hurried to the private suite at the club. She was eager to surprise her husband, Francis Rivera. Just as she was about to open the door, she caught a few words drifting through the crack that stopped her cold. "…So, Fran, did you really marry Cecelia Moore just to protect Melody Green?" In that instant, every drop of blood in Cecelia's body seemed to freeze—she couldn't move.

An incoming freshman university student goes to his family's old house to stay there had an unexpected experience, he accidentally entered a portal to a different realm and was able to meet a god? What will happen to him now?

Edward and I held our engagement party in Las Vegas. Everything seemed perfect—until someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare. One of Edward's female coworkers looked me straight in the eye. "I am pregnant. It is your fiancé's baby." Laughter burst out around us. Everyone thought it was a joke—except Edward. After the trip, we returned home. He looked uneasy. "I'm the father of Juliet's baby," he admitted. "Don't overthink it. We were on a business trip and got too drunk with a client. We accidentally spent the night together. "She is from a British aristocratic family. Reputation matters a lot to her. She will never marry me. She only wants to have the baby and raise it alone." "So what are you saying?" I asked. "I am the father. I have to take responsibility. I will stay in the apartment I rented for her and take care of her pregnancy on weekdays, and come home on weekends. "Our wedding will be delayed. We will get married after the baby is borned." I gave a small smile. So he had it all planned out. He was just here to inform me. He let out a sigh of relief, picked up his Rimowa suitcase, and walked out without looking back. I wiped the tears off my face and began packing away all the memories of our relationship. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. The voice on the other end sounded messy and emotional. "Margot, I freaking love you. Don't marry him. Marry me instead." I froze for a second, then replied, "Okay."

I merely brought up the wedding decorations, and my fiancé's first love ran out of the room in tears. Ian Murray slapped me so hard I fell to the ground. His face twisted in fury, teeth clenched with hatred. "Daphne, are you that desperate to get married? Afraid no one else will want you, so you're clinging to me, forcing me into it? Our wedding next week is postponed!" I held my face, but not even a ripple stirred in my heart. This made the eighth time he'd postponed it. I had been waiting for him since I was twenty-eight. Now, in my early thirties, I was still getting nowhere closer to being married. So this time, I quietly packed my things and chose to leave. Maybe this marriage didn't need to happen after all.

On my husband's birthday, I ask him for 100 dollars for groceries. Yet he ends up transferring 100 thousand dollars to me, saying that it's "to buy Shannon a bag". A moment later, he bombards me with texts, saying that he transferred the money wrongly and that he wants me to return it to him. "Hello? Why aren't you giving me back the money? Give it back to me, you shameless woman!" Just then, Shannon Lambert updates her social media. "It's his birthday, but he's given me a huge diamond ring. It's so weird, but I love it!" Only then do I realize he's been pretending to be poor all these years. He's spent all his money on Shannon, a student he's been sponsoring. I refuse to transfer the money back to him. Instead, I reply, "I'll give you back half of it once we're divorced."

On the very first day Jason and I made our relationship official, he insisted on handing over his salary for me to manage. He said marriage was only a matter of time and that he trusted his future wife to keep the money safe. On the day of our engagement, Jason demanded that I hand over the $960,000 in salary I had “kept” for him over the past four years. “Each month, I gave you $20,000. In four years, that’s $960,000. After expenses, there should be at least $800,000 left, right? I can’t bear to make my parents empty their savings for my marriage. We will use my savings for the wedding, $600,000 as the down payment for the new apartment, and the remaining $200,000 will be my wedding gift to you.” I froze. “But there isn’t a single dollar left!” Jason exploded. “You wasteful woman! You spent all the money?!” His mother also erupted. “So much money, and you squandered it all! What shameful acts have you been up to?! This marriage is off!” Jason demanded to see the accounts. I immediately pulled out the records in front of everyone. Seeing this, Jason’s mother panicked.

Someone pushes me off a cliff when I'm eight months pregnant before taking their life on the spot. Meanwhile, blood pools underneath me as I'm rushed to the hospital. As despair washes over me, I hear Jacob Langley's voice come from outside my hospital ward. "Are you sure it'll work this time?" "Yes, Mr. Langley. Mrs. Langley has taken good care of herself during her pregnancy, but the branch pierced her belly. There's no chance of the baby surviving this, and she won't ever be able to conceive again." "Good. Make sure the culprit's family has been sent away. I won't let anything go wrong before the Adkins agree to adopt Clara." "Yes, sir. Still… why did you need to push Mrs. Langley off a cliff if you wanted to adopt Ms. Jennings' daughter? Mrs. Langley is kind; I'm sure she would've treated the child well." Jacob snorts. "What do you know? Why would Selene agree to adopt Clara if she had her own child? She'll only treat Clara as her own once she can't have children and leave everything she has to Clara. I couldn't marry Kaia back then; this is all I can do to make it up to her." The voices slowly fade away, but they reverberate loud and clear in my mind. I've spent six years by Jacob's side, yet all I've gotten in return are lies and betrayal. His so-called love for me is nothing but a trick to steal my inheritance for someone else. Since this is what he wants, I'll make his wish come true.

On the day I miscarried and suffered from haemorrhage, my husband posted a photo of a newborn’s tiny feet on his Instagram Story. The caption read: “Welcome, little angel. Daddy will always protect you.” With trembling hands, I called him. “The baby’s gone. Can you come to the hospital?” On the other end, I heard a baby crying, followed by the man’s impatient voice. “In that case, take good care of yourself. Louise just gave birth and needs someone to care for her. I can’t leave. “Besides, the dead shouldn’t compete with the living for affection. Got it?” He hung up right after. I broke down alone on the hospital bed, and when I finally wiped away my tears, I dialed the number of his sworn enemy, Levi Snow. “Marry me, and the entire Wright Corporation will be my dowry. All I want is for you to bring Finn Yeaton down. Do we have a deal?”

I'm one of the entertainment industry's most popular celebrities. One day, the Holmes family, the richest family in Hemmingville, comes to me and tells me I'm one of them. The day I return home, the city's paparazzi follow me to capture every second of my return. When I arrive at the Holmes residence, my adoptive sister stops me from entering. "We've looked into you and found out that you shot to fame after starring in an adult film. "The Holmes family has its rules—you have to change your clothes in public before you can step foot in here. Dad said that I'm the one who calls the shots when he and Jason aren't at home, so I hope you can understand me." In my past life, I would've acted cautiously and adopted a lowly stance for the sake of my image. But I've been reborn. I kick aside the things in my way and shove Nancy Holmes aside. "How ridiculous! You'd better stop and think whether you're worthy of telling me what to do. How dare you ask me to strip in public? "I'm insured from head to toe—you can't afford to pay me back if you even touch a hair on my head! And you call yourself the heiress of the family, huh? I'd like to see you grovel at my feet and beg me later!"

In the third year of our marriage, Adrian Jones made me play a game of truth or dare—and when I lost, he told me to take the place of a nightclub hostess and perform a striptease. "Macie's too timid," he said. "You dance for her." Laughter erupted around us. "Adrian's a real sport—letting us watch his wife put on a show!" "Liliana's got a body to die for. I'm burning up just looking at her." Drenched in humiliation, surrounded by crude stares and filth, I finally cracked. My voice shook. "Adrian… I want a divorce." Before I could say more, a glass of red wine hit me square in the face. Adrian scoffed, "The Shaw family's already bankrupt. Where exactly do you think you'll go without me?" However, this time, I meant it. I was done.