My Every Flex Steals Your Fortune

I was born with a flare for the dramatican absolute need to show off. Unfortunately, the cosmic system bound to my soul is a total scam. Every time I pull off a perfect flex, my reward is invariably stolen straight from the person I just humbled.

At eight, I acted like a child prodigy in front of my private tutor; the system immediately snatched his prized, out-of-print manuscript. At twelve, I played the elegant young lady in front of my friend; the system reverse-pocketed her freshly bought lavender fudge right into my coat. For over a decade, I lived in constant anxiety, picking pockets through pure, unadulterated pretentiousness. I looked at my room overflowing with stolen goods and wanted to cry.

Just when I resolved to turn over a new leaf and stop showing off, a powerful billionairea high-society Lord from the capitalsuddenly claimed me as his long-lost biological daughter.

The moment I stepped through the grand doors of Harrington Manor, my adoptive sister recoiled in disgust.

"Ugh. The smell of poverty on you is practically suffocating!"

My biological brother sneered a cold warning.

"Don't even think about stealing anything that belongs to Cassie."

Looking at these two absolute fools, my innate urge to show off completely surged.

Before, when I flexed on strangers and stole their things, I felt a deep sense of shame. But now? In my own house, against people who deserve it?

Oh, I was going to put on a masterclass.

...

I looked down at my simple, cheap cotton dress.

Smell of poverty?

At my foster fathers house, the rags we used to prop up wobbly table legs were made of finer silk than the designer coat she was wearing. But I didn't bother arguing. New environment, new audiencemight as well watch the show first. I lowered my head and nervously fiddled with my fingers.

"Christian, look at her," Cassandra said, tugging at her brother's sleeve. "She looks like a stray dog. How is she supposed to be the eldest daughter of the Harrington family?"

Christians brow furrowed into a tight knot.

"Our family bloodline cannot be left wandering in the slums. We brought her back solely to save face. But Cassie was raised by Mothers side since she was a baby. Don't even dream of competing with her for anything."

Just as the words left his mouth, Lord Charles Harringtonthe patriarch of our family and the father I had never metstrode into the grand parlor, carrying an ornate wooden box. He completely ignored me, his actual flesh and blood, and placed the box on the mahogany table.

"Cassie, Christian, come look at the absolute masterpiece I just acquired!"

Cassandra smoothed her skirt and rushed over. "What did you find this time, Father?"

Charles opened the box and unrolled a delicate canvas, his voice trembling with excitement.

"A lost masterpiece by the Renaissance master himself, The Snow Torrent. The only surviving copy in the world! It cost me a cool three million dollars. In a few days, at Lady Catherine's grand gala, this will be our family's official tribute. It will make us the talk of high society."

Cassandra leaned in to inspect it. "The brushwork is incredible. So powerful. Especially the use of negative spacethe depth is breathtaking. You have an amazing eye, Father. Lady Catherine understands art; she will absolutely adore this."

Christian nodded along in rapt agreement.

Standing in the corner, I cast a casual glance at the painting on the table and nearly snorted. Bringing this piece of absolute garbage to Lady Catherine's gala? Is this family actively looking to commit social suicide? I hadn't planned on speaking up, but my nose simply refused to cooperate.

"Achoo!"

Three pairs of furious eyes instantly locked onto me.

Cassandra was the first to snap. "Have you no manners? Sneezing in front of a priceless masterpiece! Do you have any idea how valuable this is?"

Christian barked, "If you're going to be this ignorant, get out. Don't ruin our treasure with your spit."

Charles's face darkened significantly.

I rubbed my nose and took two steps back.

"My bad."

"It's just... the smell of stale tea on that canvas is incredibly overwhelming. It tickled my nose."

Charles slammed his hand on the table. "Insolent! This painting was authenticated by the top appraiser in the country! Stale tea? What nonsense are you spewing?"

I shrugged. "I'm not lying. It smells exactly like the cheap black tea my foster father used to leave out overnight."

I walked forward and fanned my hand near the canvas.

"Back in the countryside, there was an old man who ran a counterfeit ring. He'd take fresh, raw parchment, soak it in strong black tea, and dry it in the sun. The paper immediately turned that perfect, aged yellow."

I looked at Charles.

"If you don't believe me, lean in and smell it yourself. Is there a faint hint of Earl Grey under that ink?"

"Also, the old man told me that genuine antique paper is incredibly resilient. Your paper, however, has been completely ruined by the water damage. It looks like it would tear if you breathed on it too hard. Try not to touch it too rough."

I muttered under my breath, "Man, rich city folks are so easy to scam."

Charles froze, his face turning an ash-gray. He lowered his head, sniffing the canvas. A second later, his entire body went rigid. Christian, refusing to believe it, leaned in for a sniff as well, and his expression instantly crumbled.

I leaned against a marble pillar, casually cleaning my fingernails. That's the beauty of a good flex: you don't need to scream. A simple, devastating truth does the job perfectly.

A chime echoed in my mind.

[Successfully flexed. Shock value threshold met.]

[Snatched item from target...]

[Acquired: Cassandra's VIP Invitation to the Grand Orchid Gala.]

My fingers paused, and a small smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. That gala was the pinnacle of high society. Cassandra had probably been sleeping with that invitation under her pillow. Now, it was mine.

I looked up, meeting Cassandra's gaze. "You said the depth was breathtaking, Cassie. Did you mean the depth of the tea stain?"

Cassandra's face flushed a deep crimson, her entire body shaking with rage.

Charles burned the fake painting that very night. Three million dollars down the drain, along with his confidence in Cassandra's intelligence.

By the next morning, the attitude of the estate staff had shifted. At breakfast, the maid set a bowl of bird's nest soup in front of me so roughly that the broth splashed, nearly burning my hand. "For you, Miss Gwen," the maid said, her chin held high. "Miss Cassandra personally ordered the kitchen to prepare this for you."

I looked at the soup. It was filled with cheap scraps and impuritiesbasically the bottom-of-the-barrel leftovers.

Cassandra sat across from me.

"You just got back, Gwen. You need the nourishment."

"Even though it's lower grade, it's still far better than the scraps you must have fought for in the slums."

Christian sneered beside her. "Don't waste fine pearls on swine. It's a waste to feed her anyway."

I didn't touch the bowl. Instead, my eyes slowly welled with tears.

"I really have never had anything like this."

"Back in the countryside, just having a warm meal made me feel so blessed."

My voice was barely a whisper.

A smug look flashed in Cassandra's eyes.

"Good. Then you should know your place. The Grand Orchid Gala hosted by Lady Regina is in a few days."

"It's the most exclusive event in the city. Without an invitation, you can't even get past the front gate."

"I wanted to bring you along to open your eyes, but unfortunately, there's only one invite."

She turned to her maid. "Bridget, go fetch my invitation from my vanity. Let our new sister get a look at what high society looks like."

Bridget gave a loud nod and scurried into the inner room.

I kept my head down, desperately suppressing a grin. Go ahead, try to find it. I dare you.

Before long, a loud clattering echoed from the bedroom as drawers were violently pulled open. Bridget ran out, her face pale as a ghost.

"M-Miss Cassandra... the invitation... it's gone!"

Cassandra bolted upright. "Impossible! I put it in my jewelry drawer last night!"

She threw herself into the room, with Christian furrowing his brow and following close behind.

A chaotic search ensued. After several minutes, Cassandra stormed out, pointing a trembling finger at me.

"It was you! You stole my invitation!"

Christian's face darkened. He immediately ordered the guards to ransack my room.

A team of stern-faced maids headed to my quarters. Half an hour later, they returned empty-handed.

"Sir, we searched everywhere, even under the floorboards. There's nothing."

Cassandra broke down, stomping her feet in tears. "My invitation! That was my ticket to the Orchid Gala!"

Christian stared at me with murderous intent. "Don't get cocky. I will get to the bottom of this."

I met his gaze calmly. "Instead of investigating me, Christian, maybe you should check for a mole in the house."

"Because clearly, security here isn't nearly as tight as you claim."

He glared at me, then turned to comfort his sobbing sister.

"Don't cry, Cassie! It's just an invitation."

"I'll use my connections to get you another one. I won't let you be humiliated!"

Cassandra finally wiped her tears, shooting me a triumphant look.

I stood up, a slow smile spreading across my face.

"You really are incredibly wealthy, Christian. In that case, Cassie better dress up."

"See you at the gala tomorrow."

With that, I turned on my heel and bolted out of the room.

Flex and runthe ultimate strategy.

Leaving Cassandra and Christian staring at each other in stunned silence.

I had barely cleared the courtyard when the familiar prompt chimed in my head.

[An effortless flex is the deadliest. Shock value threshold met.]

[Snatched item from target...]

[Acquired: Christian's private signet ring.]

I patted the solid metal ring in my pocket and laughed out loud.

Christian spent the next two days in a state of absolute panic.

His signet ring was missing. Without that ring, he couldn't transfer any of his properties or businesses, and he couldn't withdraw a single dollar from his private vault. He had to beg and scrape just to secure a low-tier, general-admission ticket to the Orchid Gala for Cassandra.

On the night of the gala, I sat in the exclusive VIP section, surrounded by the daughters of billionaires and high-ranking officials.

Cassandra entered, clutching her low-tier ticket. The moment she looked up and saw me sitting at the head table, her face contorted. She stormed over, flanked by several snobbish socialites.

"Gwen! How did you sneak in here?"

One of her friends sneered, "Exactly. Look at your cheap dress. Get out before security throws you out!"

I took a slow sip of my champagne and looked up.

"What a ridiculous question, Cassie."

"I was invited here as a VIP guest. I walked through the front doors."

"You, on the other hand... that general-admission ticket in your hand? Didn't Christian have to beg on his knees to get that for you?"

The color drained from Cassandra's face. "You... you're lying! You stole that invite!" She raised her hand to slap me.

I calmly tipped my glass, pouring the iced tea straight onto her white designer gown.

"Ah!" Cassandra shrieked, jumping back.

I offered a cold smile. "Cassie, raising your hand at the Orchid Gala? Where are your noble family manners?"

Losing all control, she lunged at me. "You miserable brat! I'm going to ruin you!"

At that exact moment, a herald's voice boomed through the hall.

"Presenting Lady Regina!"

Cassandra froze, immediately dropping to her knees along with the rest of the guests.

After Lady Regina took her seat, she let out a heavy sigh.

"The Grand Matriarch's birthday gala is approaching. She has always adored classical literature. I was gifted an incredible poetic couplet to present as a tribute, but I have yet to find a matching second half worthy of it."

An attendant unrolled a beautiful scroll of calligraphy.

"The first line is: The green bamboo grows straight and tall, enduring a thousand winters without changing its hue."

"This line is meant to praise the Matriarch's lifelong integrity. There are many brilliant minds in this room tonight. Whoever can provide the perfect matching line will be richly rewarded by this estate."

The young ladies in the crowd lowered their heads, deep in thought.

Anxious to redeem herself, Cassandra stepped forward. "Lady Regina, I have one!" She held her head high and declared: "The Matriarch is of noble and supreme stature, fittingly compared to a royal flower. My line is: The red peony blooms in the morning dew, receiving ten thousand blessings to deepen its fragrance."

Several socialites immediately showered her with praise.

But Lady Regina's brow furrowed. "The Matriarch survived the rise and fall of three political eras. Her strength lies in her resilience. Comparing her to a delicate peony feels shallow and vain."

The smugness on Cassandra's face shattered.

Sitting at the VIP table, I couldn't help but chuckle. I had to thank my foster father for making me read so many books.

Lady Regina's eyes locked onto me. "Who are you? And why do you find this amusing?"

Cassandra seized the opportunity to accuse me. "Forgive her, Lady Regina! She is a feral girl raised in some backwater town. She doesn't even know how to write her own name, yet she dares mock your artistic pursuit. Please, punish her!"

I stood up, walked to the center of the room, and looked Lady Regina in the eye.

"I laugh, Lady Regina, because my sister's line is utterly ridiculous."

"A delicate peony dies if it goes a few days without being watered. When the Matriarch survived the political storms of her youth, did she rely on soft blessings?"

Lady Regina's interest was piqued. "Oh? And what is your grand proposal?"

I cleared my throat. "There is only one thing in this world that can match the resilience of bamboo." I looked around the room and spoke clearly: "The wild grass strikes deep roots, surviving the fiercest wildfire to rise again!"

Cassandra shrieked, "Crude! You use wild grass to describe the Grand Matriarch? This is treason!"

"What do you know?"

"Delicate flowers die easily, no matter how expensive they are."

"Only wild grass survives the fire and grows back stronger when the spring wind blows."

I turned back to Lady Regina.

"Does the Matriarch's resilience not mirror that very grass? Unconquerable, everlasting."

A brilliant spark lit up Lady Regina's eyes.

"Magnificent!"

"A return to raw truthtrue brilliance hides in simplicity!"

The moment the praise left her lips, a prompt chimed in my head:

[Flex successful!]

[Snatched item from target...]

[Acquired: Lady Regina's personal gold crest badge.]

A smug smile played on my lips.

But my triumph was short-lived.

Suddenly, the grand doors of the hall were flung open, and the head butler of Harrington Manor rushed in, panting.

"Miss Cassandra! Miss Gwen! Disaster has struck!"

"The Federal Marshals have surrounded the manor!"

When we rushed back to the manor, Chief Inspector Declan Pierce was already sitting in the high-backed leather chair in the study. On the mahogany desk sat a suspicious occult objecta voodoo effigy inscribed with the Presidents birth details.

The moment we stepped through the door, Charles pointed a shaking finger at me. "Agent Pierce! It's her! It's this wretched girl we brought back from the countryside!"

Cassandra dropped to her knees immediately. "Sir, please be merciful! She just returned to this house, filled with resentment. This treasonous filth must be her doing. It has nothing to do with us!"

Pierce stood up, the cold steel of his tactical blade catching the light as he pressed it against my throat.

"Is this you?"

I calmly reached into my sleeve, pulled out the gold crest badge, and held it right before his eyes. "Before you use that knife, Inspector, you might want to check who my benefactor is."

Pierce's pupils dilated. The blade froze instantly.

Suddenly, Christian lunged from the floor, screaming frantically, "Don't believe her, Inspector! She's a thief! Everything she owns is stolen! Even her VIP invitation to the gala tonight was stolen from Cassie's room!"

Cassandra chimed in, shrieking, "Yes! That badge must have been stolen from Lady Regina tonight! Arrest her!"

Pierce's gaze shifted, turning icy. He snatched the badge from my hand and let out a dark laugh. "So, you're just a daring, professional thief."

Before I could speak, his heavy boot delivered a brutal kick to my knee.

The agonizing impact forced me to my knees, my joints cracking against the hardwood floor. A sharp gasp of pain escaped my lips as blood welled from where his blade had nicked my neck, staining my collar.

"Take her away," Pierce commanded, looking down at me with cold detachment. "Throw her into the high-security cells. Prepare the interrogation room."

Two burly agents stepped forward to drag me up.

"Get off me!" I spat, swallowing the metallic taste of blood as I wrenched myself free despite the searing pain in my knee.

"I am laughing because the legendary Chief Inspector Pierce is nothing but a brainless puppet!"

Pierce's eyes flared with rage. "You want to die?"

Ignoring the blood dripping down my neck, I spoke at a breakneck speed.

"If I wanted to commit treason, why would I be stupid enough to sew the Harrington family's exclusive silk thread and custom stitching onto the effigy?"

"Furthermore, I've only been back in this house for five days. How could a girl from the countryside coordinate a high-level political conspiracy right under your nose?"

A cold smile touched my lips.

"This is a setup. Kill me as the scapegoat, and the real traitor walks away clean. Are you really going to let someone use you as a cheap weapon, Inspector?"

Pierce stared at me, a flicker of doubt crossing his eyes. He hesitated.

At that exact second, a prompt exploded in my brain.

[Life-or-death flex successful!]

[Shock value has broken the scale!]

[Snatched item from target...]

[Acquired.]

My heart leapt. I immediately checked the system storage with my mind. The moment I saw what had materialized inside the space, I couldn't help but burst into wild laughter right under Pierce's blade.

"Haha... Hahaha!"

My blood-soaked laughter echoed through the silent study.

It was over. I had won.