My name is Chen Mo. I’m an ordinary guy who wants to lie flat, but Heaven keeps chasing after me to feed me.
One day, I was eating barbecue at a roadside stall when I heard the guy at the next table brag, “If I were Wang Sicong’s dad, I’d drive a different supercar every day!” The next day, twenty limited-edition Paganis had appeared in my name, and the traffic police had even reserved a parking spot just for me.
I was stunned. Then I discovered that a lousy System called “Bragging Made Real” had latched onto me. As long as someone bragged near me, whether about wealth, power, fighting ability, or skills, every single word would come true for me!
The old security guard downstairs bragged, “Back in my day, I was the king of soldiers in the army!” The next day, armored vehicles from the military district drove into the complex, and a leader with stars on his shoulders saluted me. “Commander, it’s time to return to your unit!”
The interviewer sneered, “With skills like yours, if you can become a CEO, I’ll eat my resume right here.” Ten minutes later, the chairman came down in person to wipe my desk. “Mr. Chen, the company is yours from now on.”
At a rich men’s gathering, I heard someone brag, “I own a prince’s mansion inside Beijing’s Second Ring Road. It’s quite the sight.” The next day, people from the Cultural Heritage Bureau blocked my front door, saying they wanted to designate “my home” a key cultural relic protection site.
Faced with a trillion-yuan fortune falling from the sky, certification as an Eight Extremes grandmaster, the title of a three-Michelin-star chef, and honorary citizenship certificates from more than a dozen countries, all I can say is:
Keep bragging. Don’t stop.
I just want to see how high you people can brag me up.
Oh, right. I think I just heard someone say I’m “at best a nouveau riche”… Fine. I’ll probably be forced to become the world’s richest man tomorrow.
