After transmigrating through three novels in a row, the hardest thing I ever suffer through is drinking iced long black. But when I open my eyes again, I somehow become the pathetic simp side character in a trashy romance novel.

Just as I debate whether to file a complaint against the system, the trembling system hurriedly explains something to me.

Although this is a trashy romance novel, it is also an unfinished abandoned novel.

I ask, "So you're saying I decide how the story develops?"

The system replied, "Yes. Everything is completely under your control."

Satisfied, I lazily stretch and begin checking the original Jacob's background. He has a trillionaire father and a billionaire mother. On top of that, he has seven rich and beautiful older sisters.

With such a ridiculously overpowered setup, how can he go around simping for a broke college girl with no money?

What a complete waste!

When I opened my eyes, I found myself holding an exquisitely wrapped sandwich.

Whispers immediately drifted into my ears.

"Look, Jacob Blake's here again delivering breakfast to Carol."

"He seriously has no shame. She already said she doesn't like him, but he still won't give up."

"Exactly! Carol and Matt are obviously the perfect couple!"

I froze for two seconds before a flood of memories suddenly crashed into my mind.

I, the invincible hero of a power-fantasy novel, had actually transmigrated into the role of a pathetic simp side character in a trashy romance novel.

Not only had this guy hidden his identity as a wealthy heir because he liked the poor heroine, but he had also willingly let her use his money to play the rich girl while chasing the college heartthrob, Matt Calloway.

Back when I was the hero of the power-fantasy story, brainless plots were one thing.

But did trashy romance novels not require logic either?

As I trashed the plot in my mind, a crisp female voice cut through my thoughts.

"Jacob?"

I looked up.

Carol Houston, the heroine, was standing right in front of me.

She was wearing the designer dress the original Jacob had bought her, with a Patek Philippe watch on her wrist, dressed head to toe like some wealthy socialite.

Carol glanced at the sandwich in my hands. She instantly frowned, and a flash of irritation swept across her expression.

"Didn't I make myself clear? I wanted a fine dining experience today. Why did you bring sandwiches again?"

Beggars couldn't be choosers. And yet, there she was.

I stared at her for two seconds, then suddenly laughed.

"You don't like it?"

Right in front of Carol, I tossed the sandwich to a stray dog passing nearby.

"Then the dog can have it. At least dogs know how to be grateful. You don't."

As if it understood every word, the stray dog barked twice in agreement.

The crowd erupted.

"Did Carol's rejection finally break him?"

"Why does he seem like a totally different person?"

Carol's face flushed bright red. She immediately grabbed my wrist.

"Come with me!"

She dragged me around the corner of the academic building.

"Jacob, what the hell is wrong with you? If you keep acting like this, I won't even let you bring me food anymore!"

Looking at her self-righteous expression, I nearly laughed out loud.

What a double blessing.

This painfully mediocre girl with an inflated sense of self-worth always used the same laughable threat against the original Jacob—revoking his right to bring her food.

And yet, that pathetic, lovesick fool fell for it every time, groveling and pleading with her not to be upset.

When Carol saw me remain silent, she assumed I was scared. She immediately put on an understanding expression.

"Fine. I'll forgive you this time. I saw a newly released pair of shoes I like. This weekend, I'll allow you to come shopping with me."

Seriously?

I bet that was just her way of saying, "Follow me around and foot the bill."

Before me, the fanciest shoes Carol ever owned barely cost 50 dollars.

After me, nothing she wore came in under 5,000 dollars.

I shrugged and smiled faintly. "Why should I?"

Carol's face darkened completely.

"Jacob, aren't you trying to pursue me? If you won't even buy me something this cheap, then how can you say you like me?"

Something this cheap?

I reached into my bag and pulled out a thick stack of receipts.

"Let me break it down for you. That Gucci dress you're wearing? It was bought just last month for 3,800 dollars. The Patek Philippe watch on your wrist? 18,600 dollars. And that little necklace around your neck? 7,900 dollars."

"Since you think it's such a small amount, then pay me back."

I held out my hand toward Carol. "I'll even round it down for you. Let's say it's 20,000 dollars."

Carol stared at me fixedly, searching my face for any sign that I was joking.

When she found none, panic finally flashed across her eyes, though she still forced herself to stay composed.

"Jacob, I didn't expect you to be this materialistic. I'm honestly so disappointed in you! I won't argue with you over what happened today, but you seriously need to reflect on yourself!"

As Carol stumbled away, tripping over her own feet, I couldn't hold back my laughter anymore.

She was trying to gaslight me, huh?

She could dream on!

…

That weekend, I didn't stay in the dorms. Instead, I went back to the 5,000-square-foot luxury apartment that the original Jacob's parents had bought for him near campus.

As I lay on the genuine leather sofa with a glass of 1982 Lafite in hand, I finally felt like the hero of a power-fantasy novel I was meant to be.

Suddenly, a highlighted post popped up on my phone screen.

It was from the campus forum.

"Why Did Jacob the Fool Suddenly Lose His Mind?"

I raised a brow and tapped into the thread with interest.

There, students were enthusiastically discussing my "heroic act" of feeding the sandwich to a stray dog yesterday. Someone had even started a betting pool.

"I'll bet a dollar that Jacob takes Carol to a fine dining restaurant and begs for her forgiveness."

"I'll put ten dollars on tomorrow. Jacob will be crawling back with tears in his eyes, apologizing to Carol."

"Count me in for tomorrow too!"

Over 500 comments poured in, and every last one of them was just itching to see me make a fool of myself.

I sneered and posted from my main account.

"I'll bet you 10,000 dollars. I'm not going to do it."

The comments section instantly exploded.

"Holy shit! Is that the real Jacob?"

"Do you guys actually believe him? When has he ever changed? Carol gives him the cold shoulder for two days and he's already crawling back on his knees."

"Exactly! Last month, Carol said she didn't want to see him, and he ended up standing outside the girls' dorm all night long."

"Oh, and don't forget the month before. Carol casually said she wanted cake from that famous bakery in Pennystone. He skipped class and waited in line for three hours, only for her to turn around and go eat with Matt instead."

The more I scrolled, the more my expression soured. The original Jacob had truly simped in a way that was almost impressively pathetic.

But here was the kicker. His background was ridiculously overpowered.

Not only did he have a billionaire father and a mother who was literally a global icon, but he also had seven older sisters who were all ridiculously successful in wildly different fields.

Honestly, even when I was the hero of a power-fantasy novel, the writers never pushed the plot this far. This was just absurd.

And yet, despite being handed a billionaire heir's identity on a silver platter, the original Jacob had somehow managed to morph himself into the most spineless, self-destructing simp in existence.

"What an absolute waste."

I rubbed my temples and finally understood why nothing was more frustrating than watching someone throw away a golden opportunity.

Right then, a new post suddenly appeared on the forum.

"Latest update! Carol and Matt are shopping at Central Plaza right now!"

I tapped into the thread.

In the attached photo, Carol was clinging to Matt's arm as they stood in front of a luxury boutique counter, smiling sweetly together.

I narrowed my eyes. Just as I was about to close the app, a bank notification suddenly popped up.

"Alert: Card ending in 8888 authorized a transaction of 19,800 dollars."

Another alert appeared.

"Alert: Card ending in 8888 authorized a transaction of 5,340 dollars."

"Alert: Card ending in 8888 authorized a transaction of 23,000 dollars."

I stared at the screen for two seconds before it finally clicked.

To please Carol, the original Jacob had actually given her the supplementary card linked to the black card his eldest sister gave him.

Meanwhile, forum insiders were posting live updates.

"Carol just dropped 23,000 dollars on another watch for Matt. She didn't even flinch while she swiped the card. What a badass!"

I laughed.

Carol wasn't content with just bleeding my bank account dry. Now she was helping herself to anything she could get her hands on.

I smirked slightly and dialed the bank's number.

"Freeze all supplementary cards under my black card account now."

Didn't Carol love pretending to be rich?

This time, I would let her put on a real show.

Less than three minutes after the call ended, more than a dozen new posts suddenly flooded the campus forum.

"Breaking News! Carol's Payment Declined. Salesgirl Seizes Her Luxury Bag on the Spot."

In the attached photo, Carol was clutching the strap of a Hermès handbag with a livid expression while the sales associate maintained a polite smile, firmly holding down the gift box.

Matt stood beside her, looking awkward and embarrassed.

I silently counted down in my head.

Right as I reached one, Carol's call came through.

I declined it.

She called again. I rejected it again.

Then she turned to WhatsApp. Within seconds, my screen was flooded with a relentless stream of messages.

"Jacob, did you freeze my supplementary card? What the hell is wrong with you? Turn it back on right now!" she spammed.

"Everyone's laughing at me! Do you have any idea how humiliating this is for me? Answer the phone!"

Even without seeing her, I could tell from the messages that Carol was having a full-blown meltdown.

I didn't bother responding. Instead, I casually told the smart home system to play something calming. A moment later, "Good Days" echoed throughout the 5,000-square-foot luxury apartment.

…

That Monday, I walked back onto campus for my first class of the day.

Everyone was buzzing about what happened on the forum.

"Did you hear? Carol's card got declined at the mall yesterday, and the sales associate took the bag back right in front of everyone!"

"I thought she was some rich heiress. How can she not afford a 20,000-dollar bag?"

"Could she have been faking it this whole time? She's never talked about her family before…"

I strolled down the hallway, smiling faintly.

Just then, Carol and Matt emerged from a classroom.

Carol had a gloomy look on her face. When she saw me, she paused for a moment, and a trace of smugness crept into her expression.

"Jacob, are you here to apologize to me?"

She quickly walked over and lowered her voice. "I knew you wouldn't be able to hold out. Fine, clear things up online and unfreeze my supplementary card, then I'll forgive you."

A faint, involuntary twitch pulled at the corner of my lips.

I was genuinely speechless.

"Carol, did a door slam into your head or something? You used my money to buy favors for another guy, and now you expect me to beg for your forgiveness?"

Carol clearly hadn't expected me to be this blunt. As the crowd around us grew, her face turned a deep shade of crimson.

"Jacob, I'm giving you a chance right now! If you keep refusing to admit your mistakes, then don't ever expect to see me again!"

The threat was so ridiculous that I didn't even bother to answer.

"I'm giving you one day to pay me back. Otherwise, I'm calling the police."

The students around us immediately erupted into whispers.

"What does Jacob mean? Was the supplementary card Carol used yesterday really his?"

"Now that you mention it, I do remember seeing some really nice luxury cars picking Jacob up from campus before."

"Wait, look at the bag he's carrying today. Isn't that the newest Hermès limited edition?"

"Wait, are you saying Jacob is actually the wealthy one? Carol has been using his money all along?"

The color drained from Carol's face, leaving behind a sickly green tint.

She froze for two seconds, then snapped her head up and scanned the crowd.

"Jacob, I wanted to spare you some dignity, but you clearly don't appreciate it."

She raised her voice. "Fine then. I won't hold back anymore."

She turned toward the crowd and shouted, "Everyone here has been deceived by Jacob! He's not rich at all. All his money comes from being a gigolo!"

With that, Carol pulled out a stack of photographs and threw them onto the ground.

The photos scattered across the hallway floor, showing me entering and leaving luxury venues with different women.

As soon as the students saw the photos, the hallway erupted.

"Damn, Jacob's private life is a disaster."

"He puts on this aloof act in public, but this is what he's really like behind closed doors?"

"Thank heavens Carol never got together with him. She would've been totally blindsided..."

I glanced at the photos and nearly laughed out loud.

Messy private life?

Playing around behind closed doors?

The women in these pictures were obviously my seven sisters.

My fifth sister was a professional racer. My third sister had just won Best Actress, and my second sister was a genius scientist.

The funniest part was that every photo showed my face clearly, while the women beside me were either captured from the side or reduced to blurry silhouettes.