Chapter 122. Preparations to Destroy a Scumbag’s Life. (3/8)
As for simply deep faking a bunch of incriminating videos of her boyfriend to ruin him… there was no need for that. It could be seen through. Technology wasn’t quite good enough to be completely undetectable like it was in the future. It was still a technology being developed. Plus for so many videos of such a length, it’d take forever. I didn’t want to spend so much time when there was an alternative much simpler that took far less time.
Besides going so far as to deep fake it would be a criminal act at that point. What I was doing now could hardly be called criminal, it was simply revealing the truth to the world. The truth being, how awful a piece of shit this woman’s boyfriend had been.
By the time I’d finished all my work, it was time for me to head to work. I left my laptop on and running inside the closet of my room where it was cooler. It would be bad if it overheated and crashed. I might lose all the progress I’d made on the AI and have to start from scratch in the worst case.
Haaaaah. To think someone’s university education would be used for such pointless matters rather than a job in their field. Just how low had I sunk to use it for this? I didn’t want to go through university again just to be told I’m out of luck getting a job because I had a shit personality and no connections to anyone who’d be willing to back me.
That I’m not a fit for the company. Or that we appreciate your time and effort in applying, however, we’ve moved on with the hiring process and you weren’t selected, but we wish you the best of luck with your job search. Or, we thank you for your interest and for all the time you’ve put into the interview process, but unfortunately, we will not be offering the position to you. Screw you! Do you have any idea how many times I’ve heard those types of lines?
Why don’t you bend over so I can shove those shitty lines up your ass Mr. or Mrs. HR manager?
Yeah, this was probably a big reason why I would never be hired. My shitty personality and neutral face. The fake smile I wore in front of them wasn’t a genuine one, they could easily see through it no matter how much I practiced. No matter how respectful I tried to be, it never worked out. No matter how much effort, how many times I tried, it was the same. It felt like I was on a black list all those companies shared. Did I piss someone off so badly during my earlier interviews or something? I had no idea.
I was probably just that unlikable and people instinctively felt repulsed by a fake person like me. Only the best liars in the world found success, that was the conclusion I came to. I was just shit at lying compared to my peers I guess.
So I became an author whose entire existence was founded upon lies. Everything written was laced with a mixture of both truth and lies. The most skillful and masterful liars, the best at deception was none other than an author. An author was a person who not only deceived others; but themselves as well.
They might think they knew the truth to their own stories, but in reality, they themselves often ended up deceived. They may think a story would end a certain way, but as the fictional characters, the embodiment of their lies, moved about in their heads and progressed through the story, things often didn’t turn out the way they’d initially planned. The end result could be the exact opposite of what they wanted.
Yes, that was the true essence of an author.
A master of deception who could even deceive themself.
I’m still a shit author though. I could hardly even call myself an amateur. I wasn’t skilled like true authors were.
The only thing I could do was to keep lying. To become even better. To concoct lies with such profound depth that nobody would ever see through them. Only by doing so would I become a true author.
Living an honest life would only lead to you working yourself into your grave. I would say my mother lived an honest life, but she did tell lies. Lies to stay out of trouble or lies to spend more time with her child. Lies to survive. Such as using coupons to purchase goods, blacking out the deduction on the receipt with a sharpie, and returning the items at full price.
There were times where she’d purchase an item at one store then make a scene to return it at another store that sold the item at a higher price. She did so without a receipt claiming it had been blown away in the wind and that she couldn’t catch it. She’d drag the manager out and cause a scene until they gave in and accepted the return.
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In that sense, I suppose people wouldn’t consider it an honest life. But in my eyes, she’d only done such things to afford some food for her child. People would look down on her for it, but I couldn’t.
Living life honestly was by no means something easy to do, that was what I learned from watching my mother. Even if you wanted to make an honest living, you had to lie if you wanted to survive in this world when you were at the lowest stratum of society.
Schools would brainwash you into believing honesty goes a long way, but… it really doesn’t when all you know is how to tell the truth and never tell a lie. Lying is an unspoken skill they never teach you the value of in school.
Embellishment as well. Such as on resumes, if you’re completely honest you wouldn’t even get to the interview phase. You had to embellish everything to make whatever you did sound more important than it really was. You had to litter all sorts of substanceless keywords and buzzwords in your resume. All the fancy words those boring snobs in HR wanted to hear the most, and if you were stubborn about it, you would never get a callback.
It disgusted me whenever I thought about it. Then when you got into the interview, you had to toss those buzzwords around with a straight face without cramping up.
Ah, just thinking about it pisses me off. Who hired these morons to hire other people? What’s with them? They have some degree from a highly reputable university, so what? They all sound like robots blabbering on about the exact same shit on repeat. Do they even know how to think for themselves anymore?
Please let me punch them. Please. I’m begging you. I just want to punch their condescending ‘I’m better than you because of the university I went to,’ look on their faces. Degree types didn’t matter to those assholes, it was all about how renowned or reputable the university was.
Stop. I seriously need to stop. I’ve gone so far off on a tangent at this point.
It had gone on so long I was already halfway through my shift at work.
Yuna was beside me reading her book in silence as usual. We hadn’t really spoken.
I really wondered how this girl would do in the future seeing how she was currently in her first year as a literature student. Would she suffer through the same hardships? Probably not. She was attractive and not gloomy like me at all.
A cool beauty who enjoyed reading, I guess.
We wouldn’t be seeing each other as much very soon. We only had a week left before she’d move over to the branch store. From then on, we’d only have a shift together on Saturdays here.
Was this a sort of Romeo and Juliet scenario? Only able to see each other once a week.
Haha, nah, our relationship is nothing like that.
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