Chapter 3The Price of Arrogance

I understood every word on the screen, but the combination of them made my blood feel like it was boiling over.

He had already violated my privacy and posted my photos online for public ridicule. Now he wanted to subject me to this humiliating ritual. This was no longer about a simple return. This was a deliberate, malicious attack designed to break my spirit.

I was shaking with rage. I had complied with all of his ridiculous demands, hoping to resolve this peacefully and exercise my basic rights as a consumer. But that was not a sign of weakness.

He wanted me to insult myself, to prostrate myself naked and beg for forgiveness? Only a complete psychopath would demand something so twisted.

There was a time when I, too, had tortured my body, chasing the impossible standards of a "size zero," "thigh gap," and "90-degree shoulders" that were trending online. It wasn't until I broke free from that mindset that I realized the concept of a "good" or "bad" body is an arbitrary standard set by others. Health is all that matters.

And now, this stranger, this customer service rep, felt he had the right to pass judgment on my body, to force me into his perverse mold of self-loathing. He had another thing coming.

The last thread of my composure snapped.

All the frustration and anger I had suppressed came roaring to the surface. I wanted to tear him apart. But as a seasoned reviewer who had dealt with hundreds of brands, I knew that lashing out would get me nowhere. A simple complaint or an angry tirade wouldn't be enough to truly punish him.

I needed irrefutable proof. I needed to make him say it himself.

I took a few deep breaths, forcing the inferno in my chest down to a simmer. I typed calmly.

[I’m sorry, the platform seems to have flagged some keywords. I can’t see your message clearly. Could you send it as a voice memo so I know what I need to do?]

A gruff, male voice came through the speaker.

“I want you to list your own flaws, so you have a clearer understanding of your disgusting body. Then, you’re going to get naked and bow down to me, to apologize for having such a trashy figure.”

I recorded the entire voice memo, then took screenshots of our entire chat history, making sure the timeline of his harassment was crystal clear.

I switched back to my chat with Mimi, who had been sending a stream of concerned messages.

[Do you know a good lawyer?]

She replied instantly, surprised.

[You’re going to sue him?]

I looked at the forum post, where the number of views and comments was still climbing. I clenched my jaw.

[Damn right I am. A slap on the wrist won't teach him anything. It's time to go for the jugular.]

But this evidence alone wasn't enough. Not for what I had in mind.

I didn't reply further. Instead, I went to the shopping app’s main help center and found the "File a Complaint" button. I uploaded all the evidence. The platform's response was slow. Finally, after an agonizing wait, a notification popped up.

[We sincerely apologize for your negative experience. The platform will mediate this issue, and we will update you here with the resolution.]

The next second, my phone rang. I answered. A familiar, gruff voice yelled through the speaker.

“You dared to file a complaint?!”

Here we go. This is what I was waiting for.

I turned on my phone’s screen recorder, took a deep breath, and replied calmly. “Is this the customer service representative? You told me to strip naked and bow to you. Who else was I supposed to complain about?”

A sneer came from the other end of the line. “Ha! You think a complaint is going to do anything? Big deal, they’ll fine me a few bucks. You think I can’t afford it? I’ve seen plenty of women with disgusting bodies like yours. And let me tell you something, I’m not some customer service drone. I’m the designer of this brand. If you don’t do what I say, you have no idea what I’m going to do to you.”