Their Cruelty Was My Weapon; Their Downfall, My Design.

My three sisters murdered me right before the college entrance exams.
They did it to clear the way for their idol, the campus prince, Jett Faulkner.
The day the exam scores were announced, my sisters swept the top three spots in the province.
Jett, on the other hand, slit his wrists that same day over his abysmal grades.
Years later, my sisters returned from prestigious universities abroad to inherit the family empire.
On my wedding day, they tied me up.
They ripped the gown from my wife and shoved her into a room teeming with strange men.
They locked the door, deaf to my screams.
"If it weren't for you, Jett would never have despaired! He just wanted one birthday party. Why did you have to stop us?!"
A day and a night later, they found me and my wife, battered and broken.
Then they took a knife to our wrists.
"Now you can feel Jett's pain!"
When I open my eyes again, I see Jett Faulkner slipping birthday invitations into my three sisters' desks.
I don't spare them a second glance. I turn and walk away.
This time, I m letting go of my savior complex.
This time, I will respect their fate.
I silently turn, sling my black backpack over my shoulder, and walk straight out of the classroom.
Behind me, there isn't the explosion of chatter I expected.
It isn't until I get home after evening study hall that the three of them corner me in the living room.
The house is enormous. Our parents are traveling year-round, leaving this place as a kingdom for the four of us.
Usually, I play the role of both brother and father doing their laundry, cooking their meals, and pushing them to study.
Today, I head straight to my room without a glance their way, and without making dinner.

They follow me in, a palpable wave of pressure radiating from them.
My second sister, Genevieve "Gen" Astor, the student council president and perennial top student of our year, has her brow tightly furrowed.
My third sister, Blair Astor, the fiery one whose grades are second only to Gen's, kicks my bedroom door, producing a deafening bang.
"What the hell was that today?"
My fourth sister, Sabine Astor, the quietest of the three and a prodigy in academic competitions, says nothing. She just fixes me with those eyes of hers, the kind that make everyone look like they re already dead.
I set down my backpack, pull out a chair, and open an Advanced Placement exam prep book.
My calmness seems to be the final straw for Blair.
She storms over, snatches the pen from my hand, and slams it to the floor.
"Are you mute? I'm talking to you! You saw Jett Faulkner's invitations, didn't you? Why aren't you throwing a fit? Not treating us like prisoners anymore?"
Her words are laced with gunpowder.
"Are you planning some new trick? Playing hard to get?"
In my past life, she was always this easy to ignite.
I lift my head and my gaze sweeps over the three of them, calm and steady.
"Your lives are your own to decide."
With that, I bend down to pick up my pen.
My reaction clearly catches them off guard.
All three of them are stunned into silence.
A flash of disbelief crosses Blair s face, quickly replaced by a deeper rage. She looks like she s swung a fist and hit nothing but cotton.
"Decide for ourselves? Cut the crap! You re just jealous of Jett, aren't you?"
"Jealous that he's handsome, jealous that he's popular, jealous that all of us like him!"
"Wipe that pathetic look off your face. It s disgusting."
Her words are like knives, but after the agonizing death I suffered in my past life, they can no longer hurt me.

Gen steps forward, stopping Blair from escalating further. A practiced, gentle smile spreads across her face.
"Cian," she says, her voice always a mask of diplomacy. "Are you worried Jett will affect our studies?"
She always takes this big-picture approach.
"Don't worry, we know what we're doing. We have our priorities straight. It's just a birthday party. It won't get in the way of anything."
She pauses, gauging my reaction.
"Jett is a sweet boy. He looks up to us, you know? Like we're his sisters. You don't need to be so hostile toward him."
I don't respond. I pick up my pen, sit back down at my desk, and smooth open my workbook.
My complete and utter disregard for them is more infuriating than any argument could ever be.
The air in the room thickens, nearly solidifying.
I can feel three sets of eyes on my back, their emotions shifting from confusion to annoyance, and finally, to a cold, unified malice.
They exchange silent, conspiratorial glances.
I hold my pen steady and write a single, clear word at the top of the page: "Solution."
This time, I won't interfere with any of your choices.
For the next few days, the atmosphere in the house drops to freezing.
I go to school, come home, and lock myself in my room to study.
For dinner, I cook only for myself.
In the laundry, I wash only my own school uniform.
I offer no opinion on their decision to attend Jett Faulkner's birthday party, not even a single stray glance.
This complete coldness, so different from my usual "strict supervision," unsettles Gen, Blair, and Sabine.
The feeling gnaws at them, making them increasingly angry.
On Thursday afternoon, as the representative for my physics class, I stay late to help the teacher organize materials for the upcoming Physics Bowl. I get home an hour later than usual.
The moment I open the front door, I know something is wrong.

It s too quiet.
I hurry up to the second floor and push open my bedroom door.
For a second, a sharp pain pierces my heart.
On my desk, the custom-built orrery a project I had poured nearly three months of my life into for the National High School Physics Bowl is now a pile of shattered metal and broken gears.
It was my masterpiece. My one and only ticket to a top-tier university, my hope of escaping this house forever.
In my past life, they never destroyed it.
Because in my past life, I had always played the part of the "good" brother, swallowing every grievance to keep the peace.
A faint noise comes from the doorway.
I don t need to turn around to know who it is.
Sabine.
She's always like this shadowy and silent.
I don t fly into a rage. I don t have the breakdown they expected.
I just crouch down and carefully begin to pick up the broken pieces, placing them one by one into a cardboard box.
My calm composure unnerves Sabine, who is peeking from the doorway.
She probably thought I would storm out and confront them, maybe even get violent.
But I don't.
I finish cleaning up the wreckage, cradle the box in my arms, and walk out of my room.
In the living room, Gen and Blair are sprawled on the sofa watching TV, their faces etched with a look of smug satisfaction.
Seeing the box in my hands, Blair s lips curl into an arrogant smirk.
She gets up and blocks my path.
"What, you gonna hit us?"
I don t look at her. My eyes shift to Sabine, standing at the top of the stairs.

She s still clutching a small hammer, its head smudged with the silver paint from the orrery s casing.
I lift the box in my hands, my voice flat, without a single ripple of emotion.
"You did this?"
Blair immediately snatches the confession, her voice loud and triumphant. "We did! So what? It s your fault for being jealous of Jett, for walking around with that pissy look on your face all the time. You wanted to make us miserable, so we decided to make you miserable first!"
Her voice booms with the thrill of revenge.
"It s just a stupid model. It's ruined. Big deal."
"This will teach you that in this house, you don't have the right to throw a tantrum at us!"
Gen, still lounging on the sofa, says nothing, but the triumphant glint in her eyes is unmistakable.
She silently endorses Blair's words.
I look at them these three sisters I once loved with everything I had.
Right now, their faces are masks of pure ugliness.
I don t argue. I don t get angry. I just watch them with a chilling placidity.
"Good," I say.
"Now you can go to the birthday party without any worries. And I won't be able to compete in the Physics Bowl."
My reaction surprises them again.
The hysterical outburst they were hoping for never comes.
This unnatural calm diminishes their pleasure, leaving them with a strange sense of unease.
I ignore them and return to my room.
I take out my phone.
I take crystal-clear photos of all the destroyed parts from every conceivable angle, including a close-up of the hammer Sabine was too slow to hide.
Then, I take the shattered gyroscope, the heart of the orrery, place it in a ziplock bag, and hide it in the crawlspace beneath my floorboards.
They think that by destroying my chance at the competition, they can make me submit, make me understand who really rules this house.

Outside my door, I hear Gen's placating voice.
"Alright, that's enough. It looks like he's learned his lesson."
Her voice carries a note of barely concealed pride.
"As long as he understands who s in charge, he won't dare to be jealous of Jett anymore."
"Tomorrow is Jett s birthday. Get your gifts ready. We can't disappoint him."
Friday. The last day of school before the final exams.
And also, Jett Faulkner's birthday.
Early in the morning, Gen, Blair, and Sabine are already preening in front of the mirror.
Designer dresses, limited-edition heels, and expensive bracelets I ve never seen before.
It's clear they've extracted a small fortune from our parents to win the campus prince's favor.
As usual, I'm in the kitchen making my own breakfast.
My mother, who must have returned sometime last night, stands there in a Chanel suit, her makeup immaculate, her expression one of pure annoyance.
"Cian, what is this tantrum you're throwing now?"
Her opening line is, as always, an accusation.
"Your sisters told me everything. You've been giving them the cold shoulder. What, you think you're too good for them now?"
"You used to manage them so well. Why the high-and-mighty act now? The silent treatment, is that it?"
I don't turn around. I just calmly slide the fried egg onto my plate.
"They're adults now. They can think for themselves."
My answer clearly doesn't satisfy her.
"Think for themselves? How old are they? You're the older brother, you should be watching over them! They're going to a classmate's birthday party today. Aren't you going to go with them and make sure they don't get into trouble?"
Her logic is laughable.
In my past life, I listened to her. I watched over them like a hawk, and it led to my own grisly end.

And when my wife and I were being tortured and murdered by them, my parents, so afraid of ruining their three daughters' futures, chose to do nothing. They even helped them cover up the crime.
I carry my breakfast plate and walk past her.
"Their affairs are not my problem."
"You!" My mother points a trembling finger at my back, speechless with rage.
The atmosphere at school is bizarre.
A giant banner hangs in the most conspicuous spot on the main building: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JETT FAULKNER! FRIENDS FOREVER."
Jett is surrounded by a fawning crowd, but the most zealous among them are, without a doubt, my three sisters.
Gen presents him with an expensive gaming console.
Blair offers a massive bouquet of roses.
Sabine hands over a beautifully wrapped box, which I recognize as one of her most prized academic trophies.
They stand at the center of the crowd, basking in the attention, loudly proclaiming that "friendship is more important than studying."
I walk past the crowd with my backpack, my eyes fixed straight ahead.
Just then, Jett spots me.
He puts on a sunny, innocent smile and tugs on Gen s sleeve.
"Cian doesn't seem to like me very much. Does he think I'm a distraction?"
Every eye in the crowd instantly swivels to me.
Blair s temper flares.
She whirls around and shouts to the surrounding students.
"My brother is just jealous of Jett! His grades aren't as good as ours, and he's not as handsome as Jett. His mind is completely twisted!"
"Everyone, just ignore him from now on. If you see him, act like he doesn't exist!"
Her words are treated like a royal decree.
A chorus of agreement rises from the crowd.

"So that's the kind of person he is."
"He always seems so quiet. I never knew he was so malicious."
"Exactly. He's a failure himself, and he can't stand to see his sisters making friends with successful people."
The next few hours are a public execution.
Someone draws a turtle on my desk with chalk.
My desk drawer is filled with trash and fruit peels.
When I go to get water, someone deliberately sticks out a foot to trip me.
Whispers and unconcealed laughter follow me down the hallways.
My three dear sisters, with the help of all their friends, orchestrate a grand campaign of bullying against me on the eve of our final exams.
And my parents, after receiving a call from my homeroom teacher, simply brush it off with a casual remark: "Cian is just an introverted kid. They're having a little spat, it'll blow over in a couple of days."
I don t fight back. I don t argue.
I just quietly wipe my desk clean, empty the trash from my drawer, and commit every sneering face to memory.
In everyone else's eyes, my forbearance is proof of my guilt.
My sisters, watching me become a complete outcast, wear expressions of sick satisfaction.
They believe they have thoroughly crushed my "jealousy."
Now, they are free to attend the birthday banquet of their most important prince.
As the final school bell rang, signaling the start of Jett Faulkner s birthday celebration and my social execution, my sisters walked past my desk.
Genevieve didn t even look at me.
Blair shot me a look of pure triumph.
And Sabine, the quiet one, paused just long enough to whisper, so only I could hear, "This is what happens when you get in our way, Cian. Enjoy being nothing."
They left to worship at their prince's feet.

They had no idea I was digging their graves.
,{?N?z
That night, as Jett Faulkner's birthday party reaches its peak, my three sisters make fools of themselves trying to win his affection in the dim, pulsing light of the venue.
Blair, confident in her ability to hold her liquor, challenges person after person to drinking contests. Soon, her face is flushed, and her words are slurring.
Gen, meanwhile, endlessly boasts about her family's status and her future plans, promising to attend the world's best universities with Jett.
Sabine sits silently in a corner, nursing one drink after another, her gaze never leaving Jett.
The party finally winds down close to midnight.
Jett, feigning a drunken stupor, murmurs, "I'm so dizzy. Can you guys get me home?"
His words instantly ignite a fierce rivalry among the three tipsy girls.
"I'll take him!"
"Jett, lean on me!"
"Stop fighting! We'll all take him!"
Like three ridiculous royal guards, they flank their prince and disappear into the night.
The final exam hall is silent, save for the rustle of pen against paper.
I walk in alone, my expression calm and resolute.
Reborn, the questions that once seemed impossibly difficult are now crystal clear.
The knowledge from my past life, combined with the focused review of this one, allows me to navigate the exam with ease.
After the exams, the entire city holds its breath, waiting for the results.
On the day of the announcement, our home phone rings off the hook.
A bright red honor roll poster is put up on the community bulletin board.
My name and photo are at the very top the top science scorer in the province.

When my homeroom teacher calls, my mother is so ecstatic she weeps with joy. My father is beside her, grinning from ear to ear.
They are happy not for me, but for the glory that the title of "top scorer" brings them.
But their smiles soon fade.
On that bright red honor roll, the names of Gen, Blair, and Sabine Astor are nowhere to be found.
The atmosphere in the house instantly freezes.
My mother's smile stiffens on her face. "Impossible," she mutters. "There must be a mistake. Our Gen is always number one in her year."
My father, panicking, pulls out his phone to call the school administrators.
Just then, the doorbell rings.
I walk over and open it to find two uniformed police officers standing outside.
Their expressions are stern. They scan the living room, their eyes finally landing on my parents and my three sisters, who have just emerged from their rooms.
"We're looking for Genevieve, Blair, and Sabine Astor. Are they home?"
My sisters approach, looking bewildered.
Blair snaps impatiently, "What do you want? Checking residency permits?"
The officer ignores her. In front of everyone, he pulls a document from his briefcase.
"We're from the Municipal Police Department. This is a warrant for your arrest."
The piece of paper strikes the house like a bolt of lightning, shattering the joyful atmosphere.
My parents are completely stunned. They rush forward, pleading, "Officer, there must be some mistake! Our daughters are good students. How could they possibly be arrested?"
The officer's voice is cold, devoid of any emotion, and crystal clear.
"We received a report that a compromising video of you and a student named Jett Faulkner was distributed online. The incident took place on the evening of June 9th, the first night of the final exams."
"Jett Faulkner has also filed a complaint against you for school bullying."
"We need you to come with us to cooperate with our investigation."

First, search for and download the Novellia app from Google. Then, open the app and use the code "406668" to read the entire book.