THE TRASH SON-IN-LAW'S ULTIMATE SYSTEM

The Trash Son-in-law

Chapter 1 – The Trash Son-in-Law

The ballroom shimmered with gold and glass. Music hummed beneath the chatter of powerful men in tuxedos and women in gowns that cost more than some people’s houses. Waiters glided through the crowd carrying trays of champagne. In the center of it all stood a man everyone seemed to avoid—the one they called the useless son-in-law.

Liam Grey’s posture was perfect, his expression unreadable. His black suit wasn’t designer, but he wore it like armor. Around him, whispers floated like smoke.

> “That’s Emma Hunt’s husband, right?”

“Can you believe she actually married him?”

“I heard he’s living off her family. Doesn’t even have a job.”

He heard every word, but his face didn’t move. The calm in his eyes unnerved even those who mocked him; they expected shame, anger—anything—but got silence.

At the front of the hall, a spotlight caught the Hunt family. George Hunt, chairman of Hunt Group, raised his glass with a practiced smile. His daughter, Emma, stood beside him, poised in silver silk. When her eyes met Liam’s, there was no warmth—only polite distance.

“Liam,” George said, his voice carrying over the crowd, “why don’t you say a few words on behalf of the family?”

A ripple of laughter followed. Everyone knew it wasn’t an invitation; it was a test.

Liam stepped forward without hesitation. His movements were steady, measured. He took the microphone. “Thank you, Mr. Hunt,” he said evenly. His voice was smooth, calm. “Congratulations on the company’s anniversary. May Hunt Group continue to stand at the top.”

A simple statement. Respectful. But George’s smile didn’t fade because of the words—it faded because Liam didn’t tremble.

“That’s all?” someone from the board called. “No speech about gratitude? No promise to make yourself useful to the family?”

Laughter scattered again. Emma’s lips pressed together; she didn’t defend him. She simply turned her gaze away, pretending to search for someone in the crowd.

Liam handed back the microphone, bowed slightly, and walked off the stage. Every eye followed him, waiting for a crack in his composure. There wasn’t one.

He stopped near the window, where the city lights painted the glass with streaks of silver. Inside his pocket, his phone vibrated—one unread message. “Don’t embarrass us tonight.” Emma had sent it earlier. He read it once, then locked the screen.

Behind him, a voice murmured, “You should’ve known your place, Grey. This isn’t your world.”

He turned slightly. It was Marcus Hale, Hunt Group’s vice-president and the man everyone expected Emma to marry before she shocked them all by choosing Liam two years ago. Marcus’s grin was sharp.

“I heard you applied for a position again,” Marcus said softly. “Security rejected it. The chairman doesn’t want you anywhere near his offices. Must hurt, huh?”

Liam’s gaze lifted from the city lights to Marcus’s reflection in the glass. His tone stayed calm. “Not really.”

That answer—flat, indifferent—made Marcus blink. Then he smirked. “Keep pretending. Maybe she’ll still tolerate you for another month.” He left with a low chuckle.

Liam watched the man disappear into the crowd. The music swelled again, bright and hollow.

---

When the event finally ended, the guests drifted away in luxury cars and perfume. Liam stood alone outside the hotel entrance, the night air cool against his skin. Emma walked past him toward her father’s car without a word. The taillights painted her figure in red as the vehicle pulled away.

He didn’t call after her. He didn’t move.

The security lights buzzed overhead. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled across the city. Liam exhaled slowly and looked up at the sky.

The calm on his face didn’t change, but something behind his eyes shifted—like a locked door stirring for the first time in years.

A sharp tone echoed inside his head.

> [System Initialization — Completed.]

Welcome, Host. The World Reset Program is ready to activate.

For the first time that night, Liam’s expression flickered—not fear, not confusion—just a faint spark of awareness, like he’d been waiting for this without knowing it.

The rain began to fall.