Trash Skill Gacha Novels & Stories

My mom has been brainwashing me with her "quid pro quo" rule. Apparently, I must work hard in earning money just to get whatever I want. A round of doing the dishes earns me 50 cents. Mopping the floor once grants me one dollar. If I get a full score in my exams, that'll be five dollars. In order to buy a pair of white sneakers that I had had my eye on for a long time, I spent three months picking up trash from the streets. I lived like a maid who was paid on one-time services in this home. When I was a high school senior, I fainted during my homeroom period due to long periods of malnutrition. Even though my doctor suggested to my mom to pay attention to my nutrient intake, she began calculating the costs in front of my sick bed instead. "Your hospitalization costs 300 dollars. On top of that, you have a 200-dollar medical bill to settle. All of these costs will be reflected on your wedding gifts in the future, Emily." But when I turned my head, I saw a student sitting on the bed being fed chicken noodle soup by her own mother. Said mother was so heartbroken by her daughter's illness that she kept shedding tears as well. At that moment, my outlook on the world, that I had been maintaining for 18 long years, finally crumbled into dust. It turned out that not all children needed to work hard just to feel their parents' love. After getting discharged from the hospital and returning home, I finally sobered up the moment I noticed the sneakers that my younger brother, Arnold Baird, wore that cost several thousands of dollars. Then, I tore the family portrait into pieces and didn't hesitate to fill in the university that was located the furthest from home when it was time for me to submit my post-graduation details. Ten years later, my mom calls me on the phone. She starts crying to me how Arnold has swindled her out of her pension. Apparently, he's even sold the house just so he can elope with his girlfriend. Not only is my mom alone now, but she doesn't have a place to stay as well. I just smile as I throw her a piece of rag. "You want to live with me, huh? No problem. You'll earn 50 cents for every window you wipe. You can earn your rent like this."

I was attending a mafia family wedding with my boyfriend when the bride tossed her bouquet, and it landed right in my arms. According to tradition, everyone in attendance was supposed to bless the lucky person who caught it. So, naturally, I looked over at my boyfriend, Matteo, thinking this was the moment he might finally propose to me. Instead, the groom let out an awkward cough. “Serena, Matteo and I already agreed beforehand that this bouquet is supposed to go to Livia. It’s really not right for you to just snatch it away like that.” Before I could even explain, Matteo stepped out from the crowd. His brows were furrowed, and he glared at me with pure annoyance. “Serena, I told you I have to make things up to Livia one hundred times. This bouquet is only the fifty-eighth time. Just give the flowers back to her and stop making things difficult for me.” It was Livia. Again. Years ago, when the two of them broke up after a massive fight, Livia ended up getting into a terrible car accident on a rainy night. Ever since then, Matteo convinced himself that he owed her for the rest of his life and claimed he had to make it up to her one hundred times. So, when she said she was afraid of the dark, he abandoned me at my apartment in the middle of the night just to be with her. When she said she loved roses, he took her up in a helicopter just to shower the sky with rose petals for her. Meanwhile, if I ever showed that I was upset, I was just being petty and unreasonable. In the past, I used to kick up a ruckus and cry about it. I even threw out a lunch he had personally cooked for Livia straight into the trash, and I smashed a birthday gift that he had meticulously picked out for her. Because of that, all of his family members and friends now looked down on me. They thought I was nothing but a toxic, dramatic shrew who didn’t deserve Matteo at all. To them, he and Livia were the ones who truly belonged together. Now, the entire crowd was staring at me, completely on edge. They were expecting me to throw another massive scene right here at the wedding, but this time, I didn’t. Instead, I just smiled, held out the bouquet, and handed it right over to Livia. "Here you go." Those flowers were filthy anyway, and I didn’t want them anymore. As for Matteo? I didn’t want him anymore, either.