Chapter 1 Pounds-For-Power System
Name: Tasha Newman
Age: 20
Weight: 240 lbs (chunked up from meds)
Height: 5’1″
IQ: 78 (brain fog from those pills)
Beauty Score: -30
Tasha blinked at the glowing screen that popped up out of thin air, her brain totally blank on what was happening.
Weighing in at a hefty 240 pounds, Tasha was built like a brick house. Her skin was splotchy and slick with oil, peppered with zits and weird bumps.
Her greasy hair flopped flat against her scalp, and the rolls around her neck wobbled with every breath.
Suddenly, a voice popped into her head.”Hey there, I’m System 103, your Pounds-for-Power System. Wanna trade some weight for brains, charm, height, or even a few extra years? If it’s part of you, I can flip it for something awesome.”
The system, 103, gave its spiel and nudged her. “Come on, host, let’s make a deal. Pick something to trade.”
Tasha stared at the numbers, her brain finally clicking into gear. ‘Holy crap, I just hit the freaking jackpot!’
“So that’s why I’m such a dim bulb,” she muttered. “No wonder the director was always calling me a total doofus.”
System 103 cut her off, sounding like it was over her whining. “Host,you’re time-traveling, capisce? No directors here to rag on you. Now quit dawdling and trade something already.”
Tasha glanced at the panel, about to open her mouth—
“Hey, tubby! You zoning out or what?!”A loud yell snapped Tasha out of her daze.
Her body lurched before her brain caught up, and she stumbled out of the room, practically barreling into the living room, huffing like she’d run a marathon. “Mom!”
SMACK!
A stinging slap landed across Tasha’s chubby cheek. Her mom, Janice, glared at her like she was something gross stuck to the bottom of her shoe, wiping her hand on her shirt in disgust.
Tasha barely felt the burn, too stunned as she stared at her weirdly young-looking mom. “Mom, what’s your deal?”
“My deal?” Janice snapped, her voice loud enough to rattle the windows. “You got a brain the size of a peanut? I told you to watch the soup, and now the kitchen’s practically up in flames!”
Tasha sniffed the air and caught a whiff of something burnt, but she’d bet her last dollar Janice never said a word about any soup.
Janice’s eyes blazed at Tasha’s clueless face. SMACK! Another slap connected. “Useless! What the hell are you even good for?”
Tasha’s cheeks stung, but her head was spinning harder. ‘Why does Mom look so young? And this house—why is it such a dump?’
Janice wasn’t done, her voice dripping with venom. “I told you half an hour ago! You can’t even remember that? No wonder you tanked the SATs! You’re a walking embarrassment!”
‘SATs?’ Tasha’s mind reeled. She could’ve sworn that was years ago.
Janice shoved her, but Tasha’s bulk barely budged. “Get lost! You’re giving me a migraine. Your sister aces the test with over 1400, and you? Barely breaking 200. You’re making me look bad!”
Tasha, built like a tank, didn’t budge an inch, which only cranked up Janice’s fury. “I said scram! Show your face here again, and I’ll whoop you silly!”
Then, that sour, rank sweat smell wafted off Tasha, hitting Janice like a punch. She gagged. “God, you’re a total slob! Dumb as a post, fine, but smelling like a dumpster?
“Don’t you ever shower? You living in a pigsty or what?”
Tasha mumbled, eyes down. “It’s not like I don’t wanna shower… Wesley’s always hogging the tub. Then Hattie and Pansy take their turns… I just… never get a shot.”
Janice went nuclear. “So you’re a loser and you’re blaming your little brother and sister? Useless! Get lost!”
She grabbed a broom and started swinging it at Tasha like she was chasing off a stray dog.
Tasha didn’t quite get why everything felt so bizarre, but she wasn’t about to stick around for a broom-beating. She bolted out the door.
Slumped on the curb, Tasha stared blankly at the giant digital clock on the building across the street.
Her heart skipped a beat—the date was ten years in the past.
It was evening now, and the street was buzzing with folks hustling by. Most gave her the side-eye, dodging the chubby girl zoned out on the sidewalk like she was bad news.
Finally, the system chimed in, sounding annoyed. “Yo, host, you gonna pick something to trade or just sit there all day?”
Tasha snapped out of her fog. “Trade what now?”
System 103 groaned, like it was explaining to a toddler. “The Pounds-for-Power System, hello? Swap some weight for stats. You gotta start trading to unlock the main quest. I’m not here to babysit you.”
“Main quest? What’s the deal with all this?” Tasha squinted into thin air where the system’s voice came from, her voice shaky and confused. “Why the hell am I back ten years?”
The system, cold as a freezer and not big on warm fuzzies, shot back, “Start trading, and you’ll figure it out.”
Tasha wasn’t exactly a genius, but she could take a hint. “Alright, fine. Let’s do this trade thing.”
The system perked up. “Sweet, host! What’s your pick? Height, smarts, good looks, muscles, extra years—whatcha want?”
Tasha went quiet, chewing it over.
The system figured she’d go for looks or height. Real talk—her current getup wasn’t exactly turning heads.
But after a moment, Tasha piped up, “I wanna be smarter.”
The system did a double-take. “Say what? Why’s that?”
Tasha shrugged, looking lost. “Dunno. My brain’s all fuzzy, and my memories are a jumbled mess, but—” She paused, then muttered, “I’m just so done with eating crap for being dumb.”
System 103 didn’t dig deeper. “Alright, brains it is. two pounds for one IQ point. How much you trading?”
Tasha, totally clueless about the numbers, threw out a wild guess. “Uh… 220 pounds?”
The system went dead silent.
“Host, this is Pounds-for-Power, not Ashes-to-Ashes，”System 103 said.
Tasha blinked, confused. “Huh? Who said anything about ashes?”
The system let out a mental facepalm. It was hitting it hard that Tasha’s brain wasn’t exactly catching its snarky jabs or clever metaphors.
Then it gently explained,”Okay, you’re clocking in at 240 pounds. If you trade 220, you’re down to, what, 20 pounds? You trying to whittle yourself down to just a head or something?”
Tasha got it this time, and her face fell like a bad soufflé. “Oh… so that’s the deal? Alright, just swap as much as I can. Turn it all into brain juice.”
System 103 let out a virtual sigh. “Host, you can trade up to 120 pounds. That’ll score you 60 IQ points. You down?”
“Only 60 points?” Tasha groaned, totally bummed. “Is that even gonna make me, like, smart?”
The system kept its cool, like it was chilling in an ice bath. “Host, your IQ’s 78 right now. Add 60, and you’re at 138. Genius is 140 and up, just saying.”
Tasha’s eyes, squished by her chubby cheeks, popped wide. “Wait, what?”
“Look, after this swap, you’ll be, like, this close to genius level.”
Tasha echoed, “This close?”
The system dropped the poetic stuff. “Yup. You’ll be crazy smart. Smarter than most people walking around.”
Tasha’s face lit up like a Fourth of July sparkler. “Hell yeah! Let’s do it!”
“Hold up, too many folks around. Can’t let anyone peep this. Go find a bathroom.”
Tasha, always game, shuffled around until she found a nasty little public restroom. She crammed herself into a stall, her big frame barely squeezing in.
“Swap’s starting.
“Three—
“Two—
“One.”
A quick shimmer, too faint to see, washed over her. Suddenly, her body felt like it was roasting—scary hot, like she’d been tossed in an oven.
Panic hit her like a freight train, followed by pain that burned like nobody’s business.
“Ow! OW! OWWW!” she yelped.
The system stayed frosty. “No take-backs once it kicks off. Don’t sweat it, you’ll be fine.”
Tasha was drenched, sweating like she’d run a marathon, screaming her lungs out. But not once did she say “quit.”
A minute later, her yells quieted down. Another minute, and it was dead silent.
System, chill as ever: “Hey, Host, you good?”
No answer.
Tasha, soaked like she’d been hosed down, was panting hard. Then, bam—she shoved the stall door open and bolted to the mirror.
She stared at the woman staring back.
Nothing special—plain, tired-looking, the kind of face that blends into a crowd.
Her skin was still a bit dull, but that gross, greasy shine? History. The fatty lumps on her face had shriveled up, leaving just some loose skin hanging out.
Most folks wouldn’t be jumping for joy over this look. But Tasha? She gawked, slapped a hand over her mouth, and burst into tears, hot streaks running down her face.
“Holy crap!” she blurted, voice shaky.
The fat. That fat that had haunted her through two freaking lifetimes. The nightmare she could never ditch. Poof—gone.
She looked down. The rolls on her waist, belly, and thighs? History. Her stomach was flat, her legs toned. Her waist wasn’t catwalk-ready, but “chunky” was no longer her vibe.
The kicker was the swap left zero trace. She’d been petrified she’d end up with a floppy, saggy mess of skin where the fat used to be.
But her body? It was tight, sleek, and normal.
“Host, how’s it hangin’?” the System asked, smooth as ever.
“Feels freakin’ amazing,” Tasha mumbled, like she was caught in the best dream ever. “I’ve never felt this alive.”
No more huffing up stairs, catching shade from people whispering “human bowling ball” behind her back.
No more nights wincing as her heart groaned under her body’s weight.
No more sweating buckets from a short walk, smelling like a gym bag left in the sun.
No more gasping for air just from bending over to grab something off the floor.
“Oh my God!” Tasha burst out laughing, the sound wild and free, though tears soon glistened in her eyes.
“I remember now… I already kicked the bucket once,”she added.
That was her previous life.
She’d been crossing the street, keeping it chill.
She was in a slump but still followed the rules. The one who didn’t? Some drunk jerk in a car, weaving through traffic like a maniac.
People scrambled out of the way, but Tasha, heavy and slow, couldn’t move fast enough. She got launched skyward.
Right before everything faded, she heard someone snicker, “Damn, she’s so big she caved in the hood!”
She was toast. Then, somehow, she got a redo.
She was totally out of it, wandering around like a lost puppy. Somehow, she’d ended up back in her old house, no idea why, and completely thrown when Janice started yapping about her SATs. She’d moped around like a total loser for half a day until the Pounds-for-Power System flipped on like a lightbulb.
Suddenly, the world was sharp as a tack—like ditching a grainy old phone for a camera that could zoom in on the meaning of life. She felt like she could see right through the BS of the world.
“Host, what’s the plan? Heading home?” the System asked.
Tasha shot a glance at the mirror, shook her head, and said with a fire in her voice, “Hell no.”
It all came crashing back. Every damn moment.
The days of being pushed around, not a drop of kindness in sight. The days of being mocked, treated like a punching bag or a errand girl.
To her parents, she was dead weight. To her siblings, she was a clown, a nobody.
That place? It wasn’t home. Not even close.
Tasha shoved the bathroom door open but paused. “System, we good? No cameras creeping around?”
“Relax, Host. No cameras, no busybodies,” the System replied.
Tasha let out a big breath and stepped into the open.
She looked average, maybe even a bit rough. But inside, her heart was electric, pulsing with a confidence, clarity, and freedom she’d never known.
‘New world, buckle up—I’m coming through,’ she thought.
