Imaginationの短編小説 & 小説

The night before our exam scores came out, the fake heiress said it to my face, in front of everyone. "Claire, I hear you're supposed to be some kind of star student. Why don't we compare?" What she didn't know was that I'd known for a long time she was bound to a score-transfer system. In my last life, she set the terms of the bet and had our scores read out in front of that whole room. I became the joke of the city, and the mob online finished me off. "Let's compete fairly. Only the best of us deserves the Bennett name." "When you lose, you give up climbing for good — and I might still find you work as a cleaner." I frowned and waved her off. She only pushed harder. "Unless the scores were fake. Guilty conscience? Afraid to find out?" "Either you take the bet, or you go public and admit you're a fraud." "On your knees in front of all these people, apologizing until I'm satisfied, and then you get as far away from here as you can." I sighed. "And if you lose?" She made a small contemptuous sound. "If I lose, the same terms. I'll never set foot in the Bennett house again." Inside, I smiled. As you wish.

I was born with a special ability that allowed me to bear other people’s misfortune. As long as I signed my name at someone’s request, I could transfer their suffering to myself. My best friend was frail and sickly, while I was strong and healthy. Whenever she showed the first signs of a cold or fever, she would bring me a note that read: [Please bear my illness for me.] I never hesitated. I willingly signed my name every time, then fell seriously ill for three days. Whenever my boyfriend saw me sick, his face filled with concern, and he repeatedly urged me to stop pushing myself so hard. I only smiled. The next time, I still chose to help my best friend. Then, one day, my boyfriend suddenly proposed to me and gave me a villa as an engagement gift. I solemnly signed my name on the property transfer documents. At that moment, I felt happier than I had ever been. However, that very night, several people dragged me into an alley and gang-raped me. I returned home covered in injuries, only to hear my boyfriend say to my best friend, "I already tricked Lia into signing her name. She’ll take this disaster in your place. Don’t blame yourself. I’ll spend the rest of my life treating her well as compensation."

Our family road trip ended in a cliffside plunge. The Moon Goddess told us that to survive, we must enter the werewolf world and conquer the cruelest Alpha in existence. Only by obtaining the Alpha’s "Token of the Blood Oath" could our family be reborn. My cousin Chloe, brimming with confidence, chose the identity of the "Savior." She attempted to replicate the "White Moonlight"—the lost love—from the Alpha's memories. Meanwhile, the "Spectators" from this world were blowing up the chat stream: "This family is interesting. Much smarter than the last batch." "As long as one of them gets the Token, they all resurrect. I’m betting on the blonde hottie." "For sure. The way that Alpha looks at her? His favorability is already maxed out." Just when we thought victory was in the bag, the next day brought devastating news. The first batch of family members who entered the instance were wiped out. And Cousin Chloe died the most gruesome death of them all. The tone of the chat instantly shifted to mockery and ridicule: "LMAO. Did they really think this was some fluffy romance novel? That’s the Rogue King who crawled out of a pile of corpses." "Forget his 'White Moonlight.' He wouldn't hesitate to kill his own Fated Mate."

The last light had just turned off when Hank Liston queued up for his fifth ranked match. He turned on the volume, making sure the game music rocked the entire room. "Jungler!!! What are you doing, sleeping?! We need to jump this guy, you loser!" On the lower bed under me, Ben Singer, who had been holding back for a long while, rasped, "Can't you put your headphones on? I have an interview tomorrow." Hank simply snorted. "Interview? You can sleep the whole day, and you still won't make it in with that rubbish resume of yours. Don't try to blame your failures on me." Ben flushed beet red but didn't argue. Zac Kimmich, our other roommate, had his pillow covering his ears while he gripped the bed post so hard that it was creaking. Hank, however, kept ranting, "We're all in the same room! It's called mutual understanding—get it? I was there with you guys in class, but I can't spend time playing at night? Also, I'm not complaining even though I'm not sleeping, but you guys are sleeping and complaining?!" Suddenly, he turned to me as well. "And you, Carl. Don't try to play dead. You got a lot of money from that scholarship, didn't you? If you're that good, why don't you donate your sleep hours too?" [Roommate disturbance detected. Casting Polymorph. Progress: 1%] Well, since Hank couldn't behave like a proper human being, why not turn him into something else?

I died only three days after I was crowned queen. Ned Vaughan forced poisoned wine down my throat with his own hands. My father and brother were executed for treason. Every last member of the Kirke family was slaughtered. As I took my final breath, I heard an unfamiliar voice beside Ned. “Congratulations, Host. Mission accomplished. You have personally taken the life of a target whose affection level has reached its maximum. “Reward granted. The target’s remaining lifespan has been transferred to your chosen recipient.” He sat beside me and gently smoothed my disheveled hair. “Flo, don’t blame me. Susie is dying. I had to trade your life for hers.” So, all his declarations of love and everything he had ever done for me had merely been a way to raise these numbers on his mission panel. He had only ever wanted to trade my life for his first love. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to three years earlier. Ned, who was still just a prince, stood outside the Kirke estate and refused to leave until my father gave him permission to marry me. Once again, I heard the voice beside him. “Current affection level is 95%. Mission target nearly achieved. Continue winning her heart.”

My parents have sued me in a court that deals with unfilial cases. If I'm proven to be guilty, I will be sentenced to ten years in jail. Meanwhile, my younger brother, Cody Briggs, and our parents will inherit all of my assets. At the same time, they will be blessed with luck and longevity. But if I'm proven to be innocent, Cody will be thrown behind bars for 100 years. Our parents will be plagued by misfortune, and they will also contract diseases. As for me, I will receive a ten-million-dollar prize, and I get to maintain my youth for eternity. My friends and relatives keep telling me to apologize to my parents, simply because they've seen the way my parents love and care for me. If there's a reason behind their misbehavior, it must be because they are suffering from pain and agony that's unknown to me. But what they don't know is that I've gotten reborn. This time, I swear that I'll reveal my parents' true colors!

After losing a round of truth or dare, Ezra Everton pointed at me from across the room like it was nothing. "Her. The brokest girl at the whole art institute. For fun." The room exploded with laughter. Everyone waited for me to get dumped on the spot and humiliated. I was already about to tell him to go screw himself when bright red floating comments suddenly blew up in front of me— [Don't say no! Say yes! That's a walking jackpot!] [Make his heart race for one second and you'll unlock a $100,000 payout!] [I'm screaming. Ezra's family is crazy rich. One tiny leak from his wallet could build a whole new wing for Evervale Home!] [For real. He acts arrogant, but he's secretly such a softie. Win him over, and you're basically set for life!] Evervale Home. The orphanage. A hundred grand? My eyes widened. I looked at Ezra's ridiculously handsome—seriously punchable—face and swallowed the "go to hell" sitting on my tongue. Then I met his amused stare and smiled sweetly, hiding the edge in my eyes. I stepped up and hooked my arm through his. "Sure, babe."

I'm the human who was adopted by a top-tier incubus. Austin Colton had just come of age, and he desperately needed a human to feed from. I volunteered once… and got completely shot down. I figured he must've hated me, so imagine my shock when I suddenly started hearing his inner thoughts instead. 'Don't ask me why I'm always burning up! Ugh…' 'Hey, quit playing with my tail, baby! Do you even know what that does? It's all swollen and tender…' 'Can't disturb Iris while she's studying. Tonight, I guess her pajamas will have to do.' 'What if I tell Iris the truth? That a first time with a top-tier incubus could drain half her life force? She'd run for the hills.' I was speechless.

At the family recognition banquet meant to introduce the real heiress, a stream of floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes: [So, the real heiress tried to get back at the fake one by stealing the engagement gift from her and the male lead and got caught red-handed.] [Even if she’s technically the fiancée, he knows who he really loves. The fake heiress is the one he actually wants.] [What fiancée? She’s just a thief. Send her back to whatever slum she crawled out of.] Dressed in a princess gown and surrounded by admirers, the fake heiress, Luna Lawson, walked up to me: “Risa, you’re finally back. Mom, Dad, and I have missed you so much. From now on, we’re a family.” I quietly kept eating my fried chicken. When Luna saw me ignore her, her eyes suddenly reddened. Then she reached into my worn backpack and pulled out a ladies’ wristwatch. “Why did you steal the engagement gift Brian gave me? I know you’re dissatisfied with me, but that doesn’t mean you can become a thief!” My fiancé, Brian Cook, looked at me with open disgust. “Return it to Luna right now, then get out of this house.” Under the scornful gazes of the guests, I pointed at the man on stage, my father, who was clinking glasses with Luna’s adoptive father, and asked in confusion. “What exactly did I steal? I’m not here for some family reunion. I just came along with my boss to grab a free meal.” The comments exploded: [This is way too awkward. She’s not the real heiress; she’s just an employee?!]

After transmigrating into a redemption novel, I spent three years running a food truck at a farmers' market and saving the villain, Ethan Taylor, who was supposed to die miserably. On the day his company went public, he stood under the spotlight in a tailored suit. I thought he was finally going to fulfill his promise to marry me. Instead, he pulled his widowed sister-in-law, Daisy Campbell, who was suffering from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, onto the stage. He took out a diamond ring and spoke with deep emotion, "To continue the family line, Daisy used the last of her life to carry a miracle for me. It's a debt I'll have to repay for the rest of my life." In the mansion I had built brick by brick, his mother held Daisy's hand. "Don't worry. As long as I'm here, that greasy gold-digger won't dare lay a finger on you or my precious grandson!" Ethan relaxed when he noticed that I didn't kick up a fuss. There was a look of relief crossing his face as he said, "I only wanted to fulfill Daisy's dying wish. Since you're being so understanding, transfer all the money we saved to her for safekeeping. "I'm not bothered by your orphan background. So, you may stay by my side as long as Daisy is happy." I couldn't help but burst into peals of laughter upon being on the receiving end of his self-righteousness. What he didn't know was that I had just learned my father, who had ties to the underworld, had also transmigrated into this redemption novel. The infamous king of the underworld would personally deliver him a "gift" in 10 days' time, while I would return to being the princess of the underworld.

My CEO girlfriend promised to marry me if only I handed over my billion-dollar-worth project to her first love. I agreed without hesitation. Yet on the day we were supposed to make things official, she never showed up. I called her 99 times, but she didn't pick up once. Just when I was about to give up, I saw a post from her first love on social media, featuring a picture of them holding their newly issued marriage license. [From school uniforms to wedding vows. A love that never changes.] I quietly liked the post without making a scene. Moments later, my long-lost girlfriend finally called back. "Cyrus got into a car accident trying to save me, and he lost his memory. The doctors say he needs emotional stimulation to recover. Don't worry, though. Once he gets better, we'll get married. You're the one I love most." What she didn't know was that there would be no future for us. The moment she stood me up at City Hall, the system I'd bound myself to declared my mission a failure. I had seven days left. After that, I would be completely erased from existence.

After my rebirth, the very first thing I did was ride from one blood donation van to another, giving blood until I nearly collapsed. Why? Because in my previous life, my fiancé's newly hired intern, Shirley Lynch, had bound herself to a blood-exchange system. Every milliliter she donated was siphoned directly from my own veins. In just a month, she transformed from an ordinary college girl into the nation's beloved Blood Angel, showered with fame and fortune, while I, suffering from severe anemia, was fired from the hospital for being unable to work. When I exposed her scheme to my fiancé, he looked at me with disgust and broke off our engagement. "You're selfish and cowardly," he sneered. "You refuse to donate your rare blood type, and now you slander Shirley? You call yourself a doctor, yet you believe in such ridiculous nonsense!" From then on, every time Shirley donated blood, I would suffer heart palpitations, dizziness, and sometimes collapse outright. I begged the doctors in my department for help, but my fiancé blocked every attempt, accusing me of jealousy and wasting medical resources. In the end, to steal my promotion ahead of schedule, Shirley donated a full 1000 milliliters of blood live on television. As her blood drained, so did mine. I went into shock and died. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Shirley first claimed she carried my rare blood type.

I'm a coward—someone who gets bullied and never fights back, who only swallows the humiliation in silence. That is, until the year I turned twenty. A well-dressed, elegant couple found me and told me I was their long-lost son. Overjoyed, I followed them back to their castle-like home, convinced that I was finally about to live a better life. But on the very first day, the fake heir made it clear—I would never know a moment's peace. I didn't dare say a word. Cowardly as ever, I could only think about ending my life. The first time, I slit my wrists. They saved me. The second time, I tried to jump off a building. My sister dragged me back. The third time, I drank an entire bottle of pesticide—and still didn't die. … My family finally saw through the fake heir's true color. "So it was you, pulling the strings all along!" My sister plead, "Brother dear, I'm begging you—please don't kill yourself."

Trapped in a sweltering 40-degree sauna room, I overheard my older brothers talking outside. My second-oldest brother, Sean Lambert, remarked, "This kid is too stubborn. We need to teach her a lesson." My third-oldest brother, Jacob Lambert, replied, "The temperature has been adjusted. She won't die." I was locked up alone for 72 hours. It was their way of punishing me because of my stepsister. Yet, they were the ones who used to love me the most. My father was a business tycoon, my eldest brother, Axel Lambert, was skilled in finance, Sean was a legal expert, and Jacob was a medical prodigy. My mother passed away after fulfilling her mission, leaving these four men to look after me. They once showered me with love like I was their precious gem, until I turned five. That's when my stepmother and her daughter came into the picture, and I was banished to the housekeeper's room. Their attention shifted entirely to my stepsister. Whenever she cried, my father would bring out the punishment box for me to draw lots. 72 hours passed, but no one came to open the door. Before I blacked out, a few lines of small text popped up before my eyes: [The minor character is about to die. Once she dies, she can be reunited with her mother.]

Silas Jordan drew lots, which resulted in me being chosen as his wife. He hated me for getting his childhood sweetheart killed. Hence, he tortured me to death. But after I died, deep remorse overwhelmed him. After I returned to the past, I first rigged the lottery to help him get together with his childhood lover. However, there were endless new comments on the screen. They were from readers of the novel I was trapped in. [Based on the plot, the male lead will pick the female lead. Then, the male lead’s childhood lover will kill herself. When the female lead gets tortured to death, the male lead starts regretting it. But why would this miserable novel change when the female lead rigged the lottery?] It was because I no longer wished to marry him again.

A split second before I swipe my card at the Hermès boutique, I hear my unborn son's scream inside my head. "Mom, don't buy this useless designer bag! The zombie apocalypse is only a month away! This is inedible, and it can't be used as a weapon either. What's the point of buying it? Buy essential food! Sell that limited-edition sports car at home and trade it for a bulletproof armored vehicle!" My hand trembles, and the purchase order worth millions scatters across the floor. The sales associate looks at me with disdain and says, "Ms. Webb, if you don't have enough funds, you can always come back another day." I ignore her and immediately turn around to call the owner of the wholesale market. Without wasting any time, I order, "I need 10,000 pounds of potatoes and 5,000 pounds of beef. Make sure it's the kind with the fatty parts! I want it delivered immediately!" From this moment onwards, the socialite Phoebe Webb who only knows how to shop is gone. In her place stands a survivalist obsessed with preparing for the end of the world.

Ever since I accidentally found out that Nicole Smith was planning to propose to me during our graduation trip, I'd been counting down the days with excitement. But before that dream could come true, I got separated from the group and ended up stranded deep in the mountains. Just when I thought I was out of options, a man wrapped from head to toe stepped out of the woods. His voice was hoarse as he spoke. "Ethan Carter, come with me. I know the way out. "But when Nicole proposes to you... you have to say no." I stared at him warily and instinctively took a few steps back. When he realized words weren't enough, he let out a long breath. Then, he removed his mask, and peeled off the heavy cloak covering his body. Standing before me was a man with my face. Only... he looked like he'd been through hell. His face was lined with deep wrinkles, his exhausted eyes carried decades of despair, and his emaciated body was covered in bruises, knife scars, and the jagged marks of old stitches. His calloused hand gripped mine tightly. In his eyes were hope, desperation... and absolute resolve. "I'm you, twenty years from now. "Nicole did this to me. "If you don't want to end up like this... then do as I say, right now."

"Honey, the soles of my shoes are made of sheepskin. I can't get them wet, so come pick me up right away." Just as I send a WhatsApp message to my wife, Cora Harden, a barrage of floating comments explodes in front of me in the downpour. "I really can't stand a high-maintenance second male lead like Allen Brandt. Cora, the female lead, is a billionaire CEO, and yet she lets him boss her around like a lapdog." "The male lead has already joined the company. Once Cora sees how sweet and thoughtful he is, she's dumping that loser Allen for good." "This is hilarious. After the divorce, Allen can't do anything, so he'll end up as some cheap thirst-trap live streamer." Staring at the screen of venomous insults, I clench my fists in anger. Just then, Cora arrives with an umbrella, half of her bespoke dress soaked from the rain. Noticing my whitened knuckles, she pauses for a moment, then timidly tugs at my sleeve. "Sorry, darling. If I had driven any faster, I would have been speeding."

My name is Emma Brannigan. Just as my relationship progress hits 99%, Jake Sterling convinces me to sleep with him. The next instant, the system's sharp warning rings out. "Emma, Jake's affection level for you has fallen from 99% to 60%! He's clearly unhappy with your performance." I spiral into self-doubt and try every possible thing to improve myself. One day, I overhear Jake bragging to his friends. "Emma still doesn't realize that I can control her progress however I want. "It's exactly like training a dog. When she does well, I raise her score as a reward, and when she slips up, I lower it to push her to improve. "The first time she slept with me, I wasn't satisfied, so I dropped her progress to 60%. "I bet she's already thinking about how to do even better for me next time!"

When my sister, Helen Fisher, was dying of late-stage cancer, she got tied to a system that forced her to win over the fake heir, Shaun Fisher. She begged me to donate a kidney to him. As long as his affection for her reached 100%, she would be cured. When my fiancée, Joan West, was on the verge of bankruptcy, she got bound to a system that told her to save Shaun. She begged me to take the fall for him. As long as he stayed out of jail, she could bring her family back to glory. They both said I was the one they cared about most, that everything they did was out of necessity. But on the day I was released, they hired a group of thugs to violate me, took photos, and blasted them all over the internet. Helen said, "Shaun wants to be my only brother. I have to make that happen." Joan said, "Shaun wants to be my husband. I can't bring myself to say no to him." That same day, my parents called me disgusting and threw me out of the house. Joan and Shaun held a grand wedding. Helen gave them half her fortune as a wedding gift. I was left dragging a broken body, my name ruined, my future gone. With nothing left to lose, I called the director of the lab and gave the order. "Activate the anti-system device." The director replied, "The device has been activated. In one week, every change brought by the system will disappear." Helen would return to terminal cancer and die. Joan would spend her life in poverty. That was their original fate, wasn't it?