Familial Bond Short Stories & Male POV System Novels

Ever since I was born, my parents bound me to a Pain Transfer System. My body was covered in scars. My older brother, Dylan Jeater, had albinism and Hydroa Vacciniforme. His condition was so severe that he could not be exposed to any light. Doctors determined that he would only live to be sixteen years old. However, Dylan had always been playful. He often snuck outside. Eventually, his body was covered in sores. My father, Robert Jeater, worked day and night to earn money. He finally bought two Pain Transfer System wristbands at a high price for Dylan and me. For six years, the pain Dylan felt from every sun exposure had been transferred to me. My mother, May Jeater, always held me gently and treated my wounds. She said, “Chester, I’m sorry. I just want Dylan to be happy in the time he has left. I hope you understand.” On New Year’s Eve, my parents took Dylan out. It was very sunny that day. As soon as we left the house, my whole body broke out in blisters. I could not help but cry out in pain. Dylan tore off his wristband and broke down sobbing. “Does it hurt? Fine, if you think it hurts so much, then turn off the transfer! Let me just die of the pain! “I’ll only live up to sixteen anyway. I’m going to die sooner or later.” His body became severely sunburned, and he lost consciousness. Mom shoved me to the ground. “Dylan never complained once in all those years of pain! After only six years of it being passed to you, you’re already breaking down?! “He’s only going to live to be sixteen! Is it wrong to want him to be happy in his last few years?” Dad picked up Dylan. “I don’t want you getting hurt either, but the pain can only be transferred between biological brothers.” They then rushed him to the hospital. I picked up the wristband from the ground. A message popped up on the screen. [Do you want to transfer your remaining lifespan to the linked user?] Without any hesitation, I pressed confirm.

When the nurse pulled the IV needle out of the back of my hand, her gaze was filled with pity. “Mr. Young, the heart meant for your transplant was transferred at the last minute. It was sent to the VIP ward on the seventh floor. It’s a shame, but all your pre-operation prep has gone to waste.” Marcus Stewart was warded on the seventh floor. He was the frail young man my sister brought home. Ten minutes ago, Marcus suddenly had terrible chest pain. My usually strong mother burst into tears. My stoic father slammed the table in front of every expert in the hospital, then decided to give Marcus the heart I had been waiting three years for. It was supposed to save my life. I hurried to the end of the corridor, but the green operating light had already come on. Clutching the twisting pain in my chest, I leaned against the ice-cold wall and slid to the floor. There was no need to wait anymore. My heart failure was terminal. The doctor said I would not last the next few days. The mechanical voice sounded in my head. [Master, your vital signs are rapidly deteriorating. If you terminate this body and leave this world now, you still have a chance at a new life. Would you like to proceed?] I looked at the faint grey hue of death tinging my fingertips. “...Yes.”

After six years of working as a corpse porter, I finally saved enough money to treat my sister, Maeve Xander, for her liver cancer. Maeve, however, casually refused the surgery. “I’m not actually sick. Mom and Dad aren’t dead either. I staged that car accident. You’re the only one who ended up seriously hurt and disabled.” Then my wife, Laurel Jinks, also confessed, “I’m not bankrupt. Every time I said I had to work late, it was because I didn’t want to cram into that filthy basement with you. I was going back to my mansion. I originally planned to punish you for three more years, but you reek of dead bodies. Maeve and I just can’t take the smell anymore.” A wave of pure absurdity washed over me as my body froze with the hand holding my credit card still in the air. Maeve snatched the card from my hand and tossed it into the trash. “That card is empty. I gave all the money you made carrying corpses to homeless people. Think of it as doing good deeds for the child you lost. After all, taking money from the dead is cursed. It’s bad luck all the way down. We shouldn’t touch that filthy money.” A chill ran down my spine. I did not understand why they treated me this way. Then, I saw my parents. They were standing far away from me, as if I were a plague. I completely broke down. “You bullied Cameron because you are the only son of the Xander family, so we wanted to teach you a lesson. If you promise to never bully Cameron again, we’ll still consider you our son. If you do not promise, we’ll cut you off, and you’ll be dead to us.” Just as my heart sank and I fell into despair, a sympathetic voice from the system sounded in my mind. [Jude, do you wish to abandon this mission and leave this world?]

At my daughter’s graduation party, the laptop I gave her turned out to be the same model as the one my ex-wife's boyfriend gave her. She slammed the computer I bought violently onto the ground, smashing it to pieces. "You obviously knew Chad was going to give me this, yet you bought the same one. You just want to make Chad look bad!" My daughter screamed hysterically at me, while my ex-wife flashed a malicious smile. Half a month later, my daughter secretly drugged me during dinner. When I woke up, I found myself smuggled across the border, trapped inside a cold iron cage. On stage, the auctioneer announced, "Today, we're auctioning off every single organ from this man's body. Highest bidder wins!" Meanwhile, my daughter sat down below the stage, her gaze filled with venomous hatred. "Connor, since you love buying identical things just to steal everyone else's spotlight, today, we'll let you steal the spotlight to your heart's content! "Let's see which of your organs you actually have the power to save on your poor worker's salary!" As my heart turned to stone, I silently awakened the system that I had neglected for many years. [Ding—Host has successfully activated the Damage Transfer System.]

My father, Cameron Howard, and I are transported to an ancient world together. The system tells us that if we can each win over a target, we'll be able to return home. My mission is to win the heart of a ruthless princess, and Dad's mission is to conquer a hot-tempered queen. The princess breaks two of my ribs and ties me behind a horse that drags me for miles. The queen decides Dad isn't kneeling straight enough. So, she crushes his knees with iron tongs and forces burning charcoal into his mouth until he loses his voice. For three years, we live miserably. Just as the system announces "Mission failed", the princess standing before me suddenly smiles. She tears off the mask covering her face. The person underneath the mask is my wife, Abigail Finch. She walks over to the throne and pats the fierce queen on the shoulder. "Mom, haven't you had enough? Cameron and Oscar are almost dead from everything you've put them through." The queen removes her disguise and looks up. It's my mother, Elisha Sweeney. She claps her hands toward the officials filling the throne room. "Alright, everyone. You can get up now. That's a wrap." Dad and I exchange stunned looks. Mom gently squeezes my crippled hand and sighs. "Does it hurt, Oscar? You and your dad made Kenneth Ingram's life miserable every day. You even drove his son, Joel Ingram, into bankruptcy. You've suffered enough now. Consider the score settled." The officials throughout the court remove their wigs, revealing walkie-talkies and sweat-soaked T-shirts beneath their costumes. But none of them know that the transmigration is fake, but the system is real. In the final moments of our lives, Dad and I make a pact with the system. We offer up both of our souls as the sacrifice in exchange for a lifetime of wealth, peace, and happiness for them.

My brother had bonded with an Academic Prodigy System, and its mission was simple: get into Northbridge for graduate school. If he failed, the system would erase his intelligence and leave him permanently disabled. To save him, my parents told me, "Aaron, you're smart. You still have options, but your brother doesn't." So they secretly switched my guaranteed admission file and gave my place to him. My fiancee, Vivian Harkins, a professor at the university, personally helped him forge the records. She touched my face with the same tenderness she always used. "Aaron, everything has an optimal solution. Sacrificing one year of your time to protect this family is worth it." My brother held the admission letter with his own name on it and became the star of the celebration banquet. I stood in the corner and watched the system panel in front of me as the [Hope Value] hit zero. The cold voice in my head asked, [Host, you have reached the threshold for extreme injustice. Confirm activation of the death program?] I watched Vivian, with her own hands, fasten the pair of cuff links she had once promised me onto my brother's sleeve. I smiled, swallowed the taste of blood rising in my throat, and said, "Confirm." "Use my life to trade for the rest of theirs... beyond redemption."

After my body was taken over by a conqueror for five years, I finally got it back. Full of hope, I rushed to see the family I had missed so much. What I got instead were their cold and complicated expressions. My girlfriend even asked me directly, "Why did you come back?" I was deeply disappointed, but I still refused to believe that they had already given their hearts to the conqueror. In my despair, I made a deal with the System. "Please bring that conqueror back." My family happily welcomed his return. But they never knew the truth. The conqueror's real goal was to push them all into absolute ruin.

After I developed transient amnesia, fragments of my memories would come back to me every day. But after a month, I would lose part of my memory again. The doctor said my condition would shorten my life and that there was no cure. Devastated, I went to my parents, ready to tell them I was giving up on treatment. Instead, I overheard my family talking inside the room. "His memories are returning! We have to increase the dosage before he remembers everything!" My older sister, Lena Jackson, hesitated. "This has already happened 99 times. If we do it again, we might really ruin him." "What if he gets his memory back and wants to return to the other world? Won't Zach die because of him?" "Don't forget! The more he suffers here, the better Zach's life will be over there!"

When the real son, Henry Sylvester, is finally brought back to the family, I, the non-biological child who's taken his place, am already prepared to pack my bags and leave. Instead of letting me go, Henry calls me up to the sixth-floor terrace of the villa and pushes me over the edge. "You've stolen my life for 18 years, Marcel. You should be grateful." I don't struggle. In fact, I deliberately fall headfirst. At that moment, I believe I'm destined to die, but I end up surviving. The doctors even call it a miracle. A fall from the sixth floor should've been fatal, yet I only suffered minor bone dislocations and no other serious injuries. When the Sylvester family asks why I jumped, I tell them the truth about Henry pushing me. Instead of believing me, my elder brother laughs in my face. He shields the meek and frightened-looking Henry from me and warns me not to slander his real brother. The Sylvester couple looks at me with nothing but disappointment. They're convinced I've brought this upon myself and even ask why I haven't chosen somewhere higher to jump from. Frankly, their suggestion makes sense. So, I go to the tenth floor, ready to jump and start my life over. Suddenly, a mechanical voice rings out in my head. "Marcel, this is your seventh attempt at suicide. Are you really going through with it?"

After completing my system mission, I give up the massive reward and choose to stay in this world because I have a happy, loving family. My sister, Naomi Sullivan, is a world-renowned genius scientist, and every one of her discoveries bears my name. My mother, Gloria Lynch, heads a financial empire that controls the global economy, and she transfers every share she owns into my name. And my father, Arnold Sullivan, is an action star. He's a legendary screen icon, but he retires to watch me grow up. I'm the golden child everyone envies until Daniel Sullivan, their biological son, shows up at our door. Overnight, their love for me vanishes, and I become the outsider who stole the rightful heir's place in the family. Daniel stages a fall down the stairs, and Dad breaks my ribs to make me pay. I take a single bite of Daniel's leftover cake because I'm starving, but Mom locks me in the basement with an attack dog for three days. Then, she has a gold cake made just to cheer him up. All it takes is one offhand complaint that his chest feels tight, and Naomi removes my heart to give it to him, replacing it with an artificial one. "It's just a heart. You're strong enough to handle it. Daniel needs it more than you do." Naomi stands nearby with a tablet in hand, coldly logging the results. "Don't worry. Artificial heart technology is already well established. The survival rate is excellent in theory. You won't die." After my soul leaves my body, I watch Daniel casually toss my heart into the trash. Then, the long-silent system finally awakens. "Clifford, would you like to take back everything you bestowed upon them in exchange for a chance to be revived? This includes your mother's fortune, your father's extraordinary physical gifts, and your sister's incredible mind."

After finally wrapping up my mission, I figured sticking around in this world meant I was in for a smooth, happy ride from here on out. Then my twin brother and I got plowed over by a car. My wife, who happens to be a doctor, took one look at me drenched in blood and didn't even blink—she loaded my brother, who'd barely skinned his knee, into the ambulance first without a second thought. My own daughter, the one I raised with these two hands, just let out a sigh of relief that it wasn't her uncle lying in the ICU. When my parents got the news and came racing over, they barely glanced my way before swarming my brother to fuss over his scratch. That was it for me. I felt something inside go cold and dead. I didn't have it in me to fight anymore. I just let my eyes fall shut. Right there, in that last second before I slipped away, I finally heard the System again—the one that'd been dead silent for years. "Host, you regretting it now?" I managed a weak, bitter smile. "Yeah. I am." "Considering your attitude, if you can fill your family's Regret Meter, there's a chance you can go back to your original world. Host, you up for this new mission?" Twenty-five years, and I never once got them to truly love me. So what are the odds they'd actually feel sorry I'm gone—in just one week?