The Scumbag Reformation Program

1 “Do you really think getting pregnant is enough to buy your way into the Lyndon family? Plenty of women would kill to carry my child.” The sneer was still half-formed on my lips when my alcohol-addled brain suddenly snapped awake. Looking at the positive pregnancy test in my hand, then at the tear-stained, heartbroken face of the strange woman sitting across from me, I fell into a stunned silence. Where the hell am I? A crisp, electronic voice chimed inside my head: [Welcome to the Scumbag Reformation Program. You have been selected as the ultimate good guy. Your mission: Rescue your girlfriend, Jacquelynn, prevent her suicide, and give her a warm, loving home.] A flood of memories that did not belong to me rushed into my brain. I desperately needed to sort through this mental library and figure out what the hell was going on. Staring at the utterly defeated woman in front of me, my chest tightened. “Wait for me here. I need to use the restroom.” I turned and walked away. I did not even catch the light dying in her eyes behind me. Of course, she thought she was being abandoned again. She thought her boyfriend did not care about her or their baby. I rushed to the restroom. The face reflecting in the mirror was identical to my old one, with sharp brows and deep-set eyes, strikingly handsome, except there was a lingering trace of cruelty in this body’s expression. I had transmigrated into a system-maintained world. The female protagonist’s death had caused a temporal glitch, and I was chosen to patch the timeline. I took a deep breath. They picked the right guy. I could not stand hurting women. As I dug deeper into the host’s memories, I could not help but curse out loud. This guy was an absolute scumbag. The host was also named Tristan. He was a notorious trust-fund playboy in high-society circles, the only heir to the Lyndon empire. His father had never played around or had illegitimate kids, so Tristan’s inheritance was set in stone. To make matters worse, his mother had passed away years ago. His father, who had loved his late wife dearly, spoiled his only son rotten. Under such relentless indulgence, Tristan had grown into a textbook rich brat. He could get anything he wanted. But Jacquelynn, the campus sweetheart of Hudson University, was a rare, untouchable beauty. After his initial pursuits failed, his competitive streak kicked in. It took a year of relentless pursuit to finally win her over. The first year was pure bliss. But after Jacquelynn graduated, Tristan pressured her into giving up her dreams of graduate school. He wanted her kept like a pet, a caged songbird in his penthouse. From then on, Jacquelynn’s world shrunk until it only spun around him. Her gentle, introverted nature morphed into a fragile, timid insecurity. But instead of cherishing her, the scumbag grew bored of her compliance and started looking for cheap thrills elsewhere. Jacquelynn was an orphan. The massive wealth gap between them had already made her deeply insecure. Sensitive and quiet, she would only hide away and weep silently, never raising her voice at him. Meanwhile, Tristan stayed out all night, subjected her to emotional abuse and gaslighting, and let the tabloids run wild with his flings. Piece by piece, she fell into deep depression. Yet, she clung to the promise he once made, that he would give her a real home. Every time she fell into despair, she would remember that promise and hope again. Until today, when she showed him the positive pregnancy test. He had spat out the most venomous words imaginable. “Do you really think getting pregnant is enough to buy your way into the Lyndon family?” “Who even knows if it is mine? But hey, if you want to keep it, the Lyndon family can afford a bastard child.” Those cruel words broke her completely. After getting a quiet abortion, she returned to her dingy rented room, saw a headline about the Lyndon heir entering a hotel with some actress, and hanged herself. It was only after her death that the scumbag felt a shred of regret. Realizing she was the only one he ever loved, he drowned his sorrows in alcohol, found a waitress who looked like her as a substitute, and dragged himself through another toxic relationship before dying lonely amidst his cold mountain of cash. What an absolute psycho. Fortunately, I had arrived just in time to cut off the rest of those horrible words. But before I could even catch my breath, the system sounded an alarm. [Warning, Host! Jacquelynn is heading to the hospital right now for an abortion!] “Why is she being so reckless? What if she hurts herself?” I bolted out of the restroom. Guided by the system’s GPS tracker, I found Jacquelynn just as she was standing at the clinic’s billing counter. “Jacquelynn!” The familiar voice made her stiffen. She turned around slowly, her eyes wide with disbelief. She seemed to catch a glimpse of genuine panic and sorrow in my eyes. She must be imagining things. Why would I ever worry about her? I snatched the consent form from her trembling hands. Seeing the scheduled surgical abortion, my eyes stung with sudden heat. “Do you really care so little about our baby? Do you even care about me at all?” “Are you really this desperate to get rid of our child just so you can run off with your precious college mentor?” My sudden attack of reverse-psychology left Jacquelynn completely dazed. “What… what are you talking about?” “I give up,” I said, my voice cracking as I pulled her fragile frame into my arms, burying my face in the crook of her neck. A wave of raw emotion hit my throat. “I admit it. Every girl I brought around, every rumor… it was all an act. I just wanted to see if you actually cared. But you never said a word. You never asked. I wanted you to scream at me, to throw a tantrum, just so I’d know you still loved me!” I held her tighter, letting my voice tremble. “I surrender. Even if you do not love me, just stay with me. Let’s get married. Please.” The system could not help but chime in: [Damn, Host. You are a natural at gaslighting.] I did not have a choice. The host had crossed too many lines. Jacquelynn was the type to bottle up her pain, drowning in her own insecurities. Only a fierce, overwhelming confession could shatter her walls and give her a sense of security. A single tear slipped down her hair, dampening her collarbone. The warmth of it seemed to seep straight into her chest, filling her with a heavy, aching confusion. If what I said was true, then what were all those cold nights she endured? And what was this about her mentor? Before she could process any of it, I took her by the hand, led her out of the hospital, and buckled her into the passenger seat of my car. Jacquelynn finally blinked back her confusion. “Where are we going?” “To the courthouse. We are getting married.” The dam finally broke. Tears poured down her face, washing away weeks of silent agony. “Tristan, if you are only doing this because of the baby, I can still go back. You do not have to trap yourself.” The sudden hope was too beautiful. She was terrified that if she reached out to grab it, she would only fall from a higher cliff. “Go back? So you can run straight to that mentor of yours?” I let out a bitter, jealous laugh, keeping up the act. “Do you really love him that much?” This was the second time she had heard me mention her college mentor, Nolan. It was absurd, but a powerful intuition bloomed in her chest: there was a massive misunderstanding between us. A misunderstanding that had poisoned their entire relationship. She opened her mouth, but the words tangled in her throat. She did not even know where to begin.

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