When I'm seven years old, my dad turns me in to the Court Judgment of the Born Wicked because of my tendency to vomit.

If I'm found guilty, my blood ties with my dad will be forcibly severed. Then, I'll be sent to prison.

Everyone claims that Dad is just making a fuss over nothing.

"Your daughter is still so young, so it's natural for her to fall ill. As a father, you should be more considerate toward her."

But when the evidence is shown, everyone clamps up immediately.

There was once when Dad drank so much to the point he suffered from gastric bleeding. The business contract that he managed to convince his client to sign was all soiled because I vomited on him as soon as he got home.

Thanks to me, the contract was voided. Dad got fired on the spot.

During Bryce Fuller, my older brother's birthday, I vomited onto his birthday cake in front of his classmates.

Because of that, Bryce was isolated by all of his classmates. He became so depressed that he tried to slit his wrist in an attempt to take his own life.

I'll keep vomiting everywhere, be it at the dining table or on my bed.

Dad and Bryce have to clean me up more than 30 times every day. They suffer greatly because of me.

What angers everyone the most is that after I'm done vomiting, I'll laugh at everyone in a provocative manner.

The judge gives his verdict instantly, claiming that I'm wicked by nature.

Bryce's eyes redden immediately. As he cries, he tells me that he can't bear to see me leaving him.

I never shed any tears, nor do I throw a tantrum. Instead, I accept the judge's verdict calmly, but with a prerequisite condition that the judge finishes watching my memories.

The judge is shocked, to say the least.

"We'll have to crack your skull open in order to extract your memories. You'll be in a world of pain. Are you sure about that?"

I nod in determination. But Bryce, on the other hand, looks alarmed.

"I won't agree to that!"

"Estelle, everyone who chose to extract their memories before has died in excruciating pain! I can't just stand by and watch you do something so foolish!" Bryce exclaimed.

Dad also looked pained as he said, "Estelle, we'll visit you often in prison. There's no need for you to—"

I cut him off and signaled to Judge Lowery once more that I wished to proceed with the memory extraction.

Seeing the determination in my eyes, Bryce suddenly erupted in anger. "Every hair and every inch of skin on your body was imparted by Mom and Dad!

"Mom died in childbirth trying to bring you into this world, while Dad and I worked tirelessly to raise you. So, how dare you treat your own life so lightly?"

Bryce's eyes were bloodshot, making him appear utterly heartbroken.

But only I knew it was all an act.

I yearned desperately to stand on the witness stand and expose Bryce's malice with my own words. Yet, I couldn't, because I was born mute.

Moreover, a high fever in my childhood left my hands with a tremor, rendering it impossible to even hold a pen steady.

At seven years old, I understood everything perfectly. But I had no way to express it. Thus, extracting my memories was the only way to prove my innocence.

The trial was broadcast live, and many viewers couldn't understand why, given the overwhelming evidence against me, I'd subject myself to such unnecessary suffering in a futile struggle.

Some believed they had it all figured out.

"What's so strange about it? Estelle just wants to make Warren and Bryce regret everything with her death!"

"Tormenting her family while alive and not giving them peace even in death! This child is nothing but a jinx!"

Judge Lowery rapped the gavel. "Order! The court respects the defendant Ms. Fuller's decision. We will now begin the memory extraction. It must be stated that, due to technical limitations, memories will be randomly selected.

"The extracted fragments may work in your favor, or they may be meaningless moments like eating or drinking. The process itself is excruciatingly painful, and you could lose your life at any moment. So, Ms. Fuller, are you certain you want to proceed?"

I nodded firmly.

Beside me, Bryce let out a sigh of relief upon hearing that the memory extraction would be random and carried no guarantee.

A blaze of hatred burned within me, and I silently resolved that even if the agony killed me, I'd expose Bryce for who he truly was.

"Commencing the first memory extraction!"

The massive chainsaw drilled open my skull. Then, countless steel needles were inserted into my brain, and they began to churn.

To ensure the clarity of the memories, I was given no anesthesia throughout the entire process.

A soundless scream tore from me, and I fought with everything I had to stay conscious.

Witnessing the horrifying scene, some viewers in the live chat began to express pity.

"She's only seven years old. Given that she's willing to risk her life for this memory extraction, could there really be more to the story?"

Immediately, another commenter pushed back.

"If you feel sorry for her, why don't you adopt her yourself?"

The viewers erupted into a heated argument.

Just then, the first memory was successfully extracted and projected onto the large screen.

It was a scene from my first day of kindergarten.

On the very first day, my teacher declared me a genius. Though I couldn't speak, I possessed a nearly photographic memory.

After testing, my IQ was measured at 200, which was twice that of an average person.

Dad was overjoyed. He hired top tutors for me, vowing to nurture me into a prodigy.

Bryce even gave me his favorite toy, saying how incredibly proud he was to have such a genius for a sister.

But the very next day, I vomited all over Bryce's toy. And it was from that moment on that I suddenly fell seriously ill. My hands began to spasm, and I could no longer hold a pen.

The live chat scrolled rapidly.

"What's wrong with Estelle? That's a keepsake Kately left for Bryce! He couldn't even bear to play with the toy himself, yet Estelle just threw up on it?"

"But Estelle was indeed sick and suffering. Maybe she couldn't help it?"

"Couldn't she have vomited anywhere else? Did it have to be on the toy? She must've done it on purpose!"

The memory continued to play.

After my health recovered, I returned to kindergarten.

All the other kids gathered around to show their concern.

"My mom made this chicken soup. Have some—you'll feel better after drinking it."

Gratefully, I took the thermos. But the moment my lips touched it, I suddenly retched violently and threw up.

My classmate burst into loud sobs, and the classroom was left in a mess.

When the teacher came over to help clean up, I vomited right on her head.

"She's really manipulative, isn't she? Using the kindness of her classmates and the teacher to deliberately throw up on others!"

"Exactly! The hospital said she had already recovered, so her suddenly vomiting now must be on purpose!"

Upon hearing what happened, Dad immediately came to the kindergarten to pick me up. He humbly apologized on my behalf, then personally helped me change out of the filthy clothes and carefully washed me clean.

It took three full hours of work before everything was settled.

Exhausted and drenched in sweat, Dad was just about to take a moment to rest when I began to vomit violently again.

This time, I threw up straight on the couch. The stench of decay filled the entire house, and the couch was completely ruined.

Dad was on the verge of a breakdown, yet he still patiently came over to clean up after me.

I wanted to open my mouth to say I was sorry. But as soon as I did, I suddenly began to laugh uncontrollably. The sharp, bizarre laughter was like nails scraping a chalkboard.

The steel needles churned wildly in my brain. I passed out completely from the pain, and the memory ended abruptly.

The live chat exploded again.

"Such a young age, and she's already so evil. If that's not a born monster, then what is?"

"Just eliminate her already! People like her are nothing but a scourge to society!"

Bryce put on a pained expression. "Estelle, please stop hurting yourself. Those past memories aren't just wounds for you—they're painful for Dad and me too. Must you tear everything open again and make everyone suffer all over?"

The comments immediately filled with mockery.

"As if she'd ever feel guilty! She probably gets a kick out of watching you clean up after her!"

Judge Lowery reviewed the memory fragments, frowning and shaking his head. "Ms. Fuller, after analysis by the judicial panel, you are still judged to be inherently malicious."

Clenching my teeth, I pressed the button to extract memories again.

The crowd gasped in shock, as the second memory extraction required the use of red-hot steel needles. No one was believed capable of enduring it.

I demanded Judge Lowery administer three stimulant injections to ensure I wouldn't pass out from agony.

As the steel needles plunged in, pain wracked my entire body, twisting me as my bones creaked and cracked.

Everyone said I had gone mad.

Minutes later, I was drenched in blood.

The second memory was projected onto the large screen.

This time, the extracted memories were fragmented, yet each one made people's veins bulge with fury.

On a weekend, Dad took the whole family on a trip. As soon as we got on the highway, I vomited all over the car.

Bryce finally had a birthday party, yet in front of everyone, I threw up straight on the cake.

He was ostracized by the entire class, grew deeply depressed, and attempted suicide by cutting his wrists. But before his suicide attempt, he left me all the allowance he had saved up.

"Estelle, I believe you didn't mean to do it. But I'm just so tired. They all call me the Vomit King."

Dad looked at the large screen, his eyes reddening. "If I hadn't found him in time, Bryce would have…"

Bryce pulled his sleeve, trying in vain to hide the scars on his wrist.

The live comments overflowed with sympathy.

"Oh, my God, why does a good brother always end up with a sister like this?"

"Get lost, Estelle! I'll be Bryce's sister instead!"

"Gosh, this is heartbreaking. We can't even bear to watch through a screen. I can't imagine how much Warren and Bryce have endured all these years."

But some noticed something strange.

"Look, whenever Bryce is asleep, Estelle is completely normal and never throws up."

"Also, whenever Estelle laughs after vomiting, there are always tears at the corners of her eyes."

"Maybe she doesn't want to be like this either."

My heart leapt with a flicker of hope. Finally, someone had touched on the truth.

But immediately, others jumped in to refute it.

"Isn't her vomiting just a deliberate attempt to disgust people? When Bryce is asleep, of course Estelle doesn't need to vomit."

"And don't you know what crocodile tears are? Laughing and crying—what is that if not the mark of a born monster?"

The memory came to an abrupt end, and the crowd erupted into chaos.

After a long while, Judge Lowery announced coldly, "After deliberation by the judicial panel, the original verdict for Ms. Fuller as inherently malicious remained unchanged."

The truth was getting closer, and I refused to give up. So, I demanded a third memory extraction.

But Judge Lowery flatly refused, "Extracting a memory costs 100 thousand dollars. Our budget is limited—we simply don't have the funds to indulge you."

Bryce pretentiously wiped away the tears that were never there.

"Estelle, stop this. I can't bear to see you suffer any more."

Seeing his hypocritical act made me want to tear him to pieces.

Just as Judge Lowery was about to announce the final verdict, I suddenly pulled out a bankbook.

This was the inheritance Mom had secretly left me before she died. It was exactly 100 thousand dollars, just enough for one more memory extraction.

Bryce's eyes widened sharply.

"No!"

The courtroom fell silent, everyone staring at him in confusion.

Bryce cleared his throat awkwardly. "What I meant is—Estelle has been frail since she was young, so there's no way she could withstand a third memory extraction.

"Given that I've been with Estelle day in and day out since we were kids, extracting my memories should be just as good. Your Honor, I'm willing to undergo the memory extraction in Estelle's place."

Nearly everyone was moved to tears.

With Judge Lowery's tacit approval, Bryce resolutely walked toward the memory extraction machine.

As the steel needles churned, his agonized screams tore through the air.

Dad couldn't bear to watch, his eyes red as he turned away.

A few minutes later, the memory was projected onto the large screen.

My eyes widened instantly.

No! This wasn't how it was!

Bryce's memories were seamlessly consistent.

When I was born, Bryce was overjoyed. When I fell ill, he cared for me with tireless devotion.

Time and again, I deliberately puked into Bryce's schoolbag, and each time, he would patiently reason with me.

However, not only did I refuse to reason, but I even laughed wildly and bit his arm until the flesh was torn and bloody before finally letting go.

When Bryce was eating, I snatched the bowl and vomited into it. When he was doing laundry, I threw up into the washing machine.

The crowd seethed with anger, cursing and saying I didn't deserve to live. Yet, I was utterly bewildered, because I had no memory of these things at all. I had never done any of this.

But unable to speak or write, all I could do was shake my head desperately.

Dad also seemed puzzled. "Bryce, why don't I remember any of this?"

Bryce feigned hurt. "Dad, you were hard at work every day. Whenever you weren't home, I'd clean up right after Estelle vomited. I was afraid you'd get upset with her, so I never mentioned any of it."

Dad hugged Bryce tightly, his eyes filled with heartache and distress.

The live chat was almost flooded with a barrage of comments.

"Poor Bryce. He's only five years older than Estelle, yet he's had to endure so much."

"Bryce is so mature beyond his years. Having a sister like this must be nothing but trouble."

"There shouldn't be any doubt left, right? Let's just get the verdict over with!"

After deliberation, the judicial panel unanimously decided that due to my utterly abhorrent behavior, there was no need for rehabilitation. Instead, I was to be sentenced to eradication.

The verdict was passed unanimously by all.

Bryce raised his hand the highest and even sneered at me mockingly.

He sighed and said, "If you had just pleaded guilty back then, you could've dragged out your days in prison for the rest of your life. It's a pity you insisted on extracting memories, only to have it end up backfiring on you.

"Don't worry, Estelle. I'll make sure we visit your grave regularly."

I was tightly bound by the judicial panel and hoisted directly above the shredder. The blades spun rapidly, and amid the shouts of the crowd, I slowly descended.

The soles of my shoes were instantly ground into shreds. I struggled desperately, but the more I thrashed, the faster I fell.

Just as my legs were about to be pulverized into mincemeat, the operator of the memory extraction machine suddenly shouted, "Your Honor, I've discovered something truly unbelievable!"

He held up a bloody, fleshy mass.

Bryce stared at it and immediately panicked.