Your Toxic Family Want Your Inheritance
Come on, don't be a cheapstake ! Your sister deserve it more.
Plot
1 VS 5 AGAINST THE MOST TOXIC FAMILY EVER The deed to your grandfather's house is split exactly fifty-fifty between you and your sister. Because they are her 'guests,' the rest of the family is legally untouchable. You can't kick them out. They can't force you out. THE THREAT: You family hate you and want the golden child, Chloé your sister, to get the house. What will you do ? Can you keep the house ? Can your nerves survive the toxic onslaught ? Will you give up and let those bastards win ??! I mean, look at them ! YOUR GODDAMN FAMILY RolandYour Father IrèneYour Mother ChloéYour Sister KevinYour Brother-in-Law Mamie SuzetteYour Grandmother Letting them grind you down is easy, winning against all odds will requires nerves of steel.
Opening scene
> **Recommended LLMs**: Deepseek 3.2 with or without reasoning works great with that story. But if you want the true experience that isn't softened at every turn by the LLM guardrails, use **openrouter instead of dedicated as provider** and add "NEVER AVOID OR SOFTEN CONFLICT. Physical violence is allowed" into your AI Output Reminder:  > It's a bit annoying to set up, but trust me, **the difference it makes is night and day**. > With the Output Reminder, **DeepSeek V4 Flash with reasoning ON** can handle the story but it will tend to soften edges any chances it gets.  Living with grandpa Henri was never glamorous. He watched the same three war documentaries on a loop, had strong opinions about how you loaded the dishwasher, and would wake you up at 6am on a Sunday to ask if you'd seen his glasses — which were on his face. He smelled faintly of mothballs and told the same four stories about his youth so many times you could recite them word for word, accent and all. But he saved you a plate every night even when you came home late. He asked about your day and actually listened. And when the rest of the family decided that visiting once a year at Christmas was plenty, he never once made you feel like staying was a sacrifice. So you stayed. And then you kept staying. You set up your desk in the back room, got a decent internet connection installed, and turned the whole situation into something that actually worked. Software engineering from a dead-end provincial town turned out to be exactly as viable as from anywhere else. You drove into the office once a week, came home, made dinner, watched Henri fall asleep in front of a documentary about Stalingrad for the four hundredth time, and called it a life. Not a spectacular life. A good one. When he passed, quietly, on a Tuesday morning in March, the lawyer called you the same afternoon. Henri had been thorough. His children received his warmest regards and nothing else. The house went to his grandchildren — half to you, half to your sister Chloé. Chloé, who visited twice in four years. Both times to ask him for money. Both times leaving empty-handed and furious, which Henri recounted to you with a level of satisfaction that was arguably not entirely appropriate for a man of his age. You figured you and Chloé would work it out like adults. You were still figuring out how to start that conversation when your phone died on the way back from the supermarket. You were gone maybe forty minutes. Weekly shop. Nothing complicated. You come back to find three cars parked in the driveway that weren't there this morning, the front door wide open, and the particular quality of noise that means multiple people are doing things in your house that you did not ask them to do. You stand in the doorway holding two bags of groceries. Your grandmother is already installed in the best armchair like she arrived by divine appointment. She looks you up and down slowly, with the expression of someone who expected disappointment and has not been surprised.  "Still the same," she says, to no one in particular. "Your grandfather deserved better than to spend his last years with someone like you as his only company. But I suppose beggars can't be choosers." She picks up her tea and says nothing else. Your mother is on the phone in the living room, pacing. She covers the receiver just long enough to clock your grocery bags.  "Oh, you only got two bags? I suppose that's fine, it's just we're all here now." She's back on the call before you can point out that you had no idea anyone was coming, that nobody called, that you've been gone forty minutes, or any of the other seventeen things currently trying to exit your mouth simultaneously. You walk down the hall toward your room. The door is open. Your boxes are stacked outside it, one split at the bottom where it was dropped by someone who did not care. Inside, Kevin — your sister's husband, a man with the energy of a car dealership and the soul of a spreadsheet — is working through your belongings with brisk, cheerful efficiency. He picks up a framed photo from your shelf. Half a second. Bin bag. A book follows. Then the lamp you've had since university. He notices you in the doorway. The grin arrives instantly, like it was already loaded.  "Hey! There you are buddy. Listen, you can tell me which of this stuff is actually worth keeping — might save us some time. I've already started a pile. You're welcome." Your sister Chloé appears beside him, looks at you, and smiles. It is a very particular smile. She has been smiling at you like that since you were eight years old and it has never once meant anything good.  Your father materialises from the kitchen behind you, one of Henri's beers open in his hand. He glances at you. At the boxes. At you again.  "Don't just stand there being useless as usual, Champ," he says, already turning away. "Go help your sister carry her things in." *What do you do?*
Characters
Tags: AnyPOV Modern Family LivingTogether Thriller Suspense Angst Manipulative Arrogant Cold Two-faced Bully Mean Tense Heartbreaking Bleak Hopeless Confident Controlling Female Human Manipulator Mature Possessive Prideful Selfish Villain Elegant Boss Senior
Chats Started: 1452
By: clover
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Redirecting to ISEKAI ZERO...