Chapter 1

The moment I was born, my mother implanted a chip in my brain.

She was determined to turn me into the perfect girl she had always envisioned.

She blocked my hunger, forcing me to survive on two plain egg whites a day just to maintain a thin, flawless figure.

She deleted my ability to feel pain, all so she could inject me with various serums every day to keep my skin unnaturally smooth.

She even manipulated my senses, erasing every negative emotion from my mind to ensure I stayed perpetually innocent and sweet.

I couldn't tell right from wrong, and I didn't know how to feel sad or angry. All I could do was maintain a permanent, hollow smile.

When the neighbor's puppy died, I was smiling. My neighbors cursed me out, calling me a heartless monster.

When my classmates bullied me, I was smiling. They treated me like a freak and isolated me from everyone else.

When my grandfather passed away, I was still smiling. My relatives called me ungrateful and cold-blooded.

Eventually, my father couldn't take it anymore and walked out on us. My mother didn't care at all.

"They don't understand," she would say. "I'm doing this all for your own good. One day, you'll thank me."

On my eighteenth birthday, she planned a global livestream to showcase her perfect creation to the world.

But there was one thing she didn't know.

The day before her big debut, I had already lost myself entirely. I had become nothing more than a biological machine.

1

My mother woke me up before the sun was even out.

I dragged my exhausted body out of bed, finding her already tapping away at her tablet.

"There's a kale and charcoal detox drink on the table. Drink it all," she commanded without looking up.

I frowned slightly, looking at the same sludge I had to drink every morning. My stomach churned with instinctive nausea.

"What's with that face? You can't even handle a simple health drink?" she snapped.

"How do you expect to be elite if you're this weak? I've given you everything, sacrificing my own needs, and you can't even finish a drink for me?"

Suddenly, a wave of suffocation washed over me.

"See? This is what happens when you don't listen. Your asthma is acting up again," she said coldly.

"These meals are tailored specifically for your DNA. You wouldn't even be alive without me. Now, drink."

I opened my mouth to speak, but then I saw her pull out a tray of syringes.

My body began to tremble. I looked at the needles and spoke up timidly.

"Mom, I'm only eighteen. I don't need drugs to make my skin look good. Can we please skip them today?"

My words seemed to trigger something in her. She became incredibly agitated.

"What do you know? I spent a fortune on these clinical secrets to keep your skin porcelain-smooth!"

"Do you really think you're naturally beautiful? You only look like this because of these boosters I buy!"

She pinned me down with a strength that terrified me and injected five different vials into my body in one go.

I wanted to scream that it hurt, but my throat felt like it was blocked by lead.

The chip had already suppressed my ability to protest against anything that wasn't perfect.

As my skin began to swell slightly from the rapid injections, my mother finally flashed a satisfied smile.

"There. You really are a good, obedient girl," she whispered.

She stood by the door, holding a fitness tracker.

"I've set your optimal workout data. You must maintain a six-minute mile. Today's breakfast calories are already factored into the burn, so no extra food."

I touched my hollow stomach and let out a silent, bitter laugh.

The steamed greens I had last night were long gone. I felt like I was running on empty.

People passed me during my morning run, but no one noticed my hands shaking as I gripped the railing for support.

By the fifth mile, my vision started to go black. Ironically, the watch on my wrist kept chiming mechanically.

"Pace is too slow. Please accelerate."

As I collapsed, I thought I heard my mother's voice echoing in the distance.

"How can you faint? You haven't even hit your body fat percentage goal for the day."