Cerita Pendek & Novel Golden Finger

On the first day the real heir, Kyle Snider, reunites with the Snider family, he slashes his arm on purpose and frames me for doing it with red-rimmed eyes. My adoptive dad, Jeremy Snider, doesn't hesitate to slap me without even getting to the bottom of the incident. When I turn my head, I can see the fortune score above everyone's heads. The score above Jeremy reads, "Fortune score: 8%. In three days, his investment will implode, leaving him saddled with a ten-million-dollar debt." Then, I turn to look at Kyle, whose eyes are still reddened. He lowers his head afterward. "Surely Nathan didn't do this on purpose. Please don't cast him out. I'm fine suffering from a little grievance…" Meanwhile, Jeremy, who used to view me as the apple of his eye, has nothing but disdain toward me. "You've stolen 20 years of Kyle's life, and yet you have the guts to slash him with a blade? Just how vile are you, Nathan?" As for Lilian Snider, my older sister who used to dote on me the most, throws my suitcase out of the front door. She roars at me, "Get lost right now! Ingrates like you don't deserve to stay here!" I don't say anything. Instead, I just look at the row of words floating above Lilian's head quietly. "Fortune score: 5%. In two hours, she will get caught in a multi-vehicle collision, leading to her legs getting amputated." I caress my cheek, which has gone numb from Jeremy's slap. Then, I slowly rip up the protective charms I've just gotten for them into pieces. After that, I pick up my suitcase. "Fine. I'm leaving." As soon as the front door is closed, I see the number above Kyle's head flickering once. "Fortune score: 85%. In the middle of absorbing the Sniders' fortune luck."

My dad owned a boxing gym. He gave me one rule: If you're right, don't back down. Then I turned eighteen, and my biological parents—Jonah Gautier and Diana Saun—showed up. Apparently, I was the son they'd lost years ago. Dad always taught me to remember what people did for me. They gave me life. That had to count for something. So I grabbed Dad's beat-up canvas duffel and headed to the Gautier estate. Liam, their adopted son, popped up from the couch with a fake-sweet smile. "Troy, rough trip?" I raised the bag. "Nope." Gary, the butler, showed me to my room. An hour later, I came back downstairs. Liam clung to my biological mom, Diana Saun, tears streaming down his face, a handprint bright on his cheek. The second he saw me, he flinched. "Troy, why'd you hit me?" Every head snapped my way. I walked over and lifted my hand. A sharp whoosh cut through the room. Everyone froze. My hand stopped inches from his face. I spread my fingers and held my hand next to the mark on his face. Ten years in the gym had hardened my fists. Thick calluses covered my knuckles, and my hand was way bigger than the handprint on his cheek. "Does my hand look anything like that?" His fingers twitched against his cheek. "Couldn't even bring yourself to hit that hard? Next time, have someone else do it." I dusted off my hands. "When you're done with the performance, let me know dinner's ready."

Attending the ten-year high school reunion for the cheerleading squad and football team, I arrived in an old domestic Ford, while the parking lot was filled with Lamborghinis, Ferraris, Maybachs, and even a gold Bugatti. It was as if I were the only relic from another era. The moment I stepped out of my car, a former classmate, whose name I could no longer remember, looked at me with a sneer. “Well, if it isn’t the coach’s pet. How is it that after all these years, you’re still driving this beat-up old Ford?” “This thing looks like it belongs in a scrapyard from the last century!” During dinner, everyone gathered around the Bugatti owner, raising their glasses in celebration, while I was left ignored at the side. Only the cheerleading assistant sat next to me, raising a glass in my direction with a comforting smile. “Don’t let it get to you. Your car may be old, but I believe you’ll be driving a luxury car one day.” I let a small smirk curl at the corner of my lips and lowered my voice. “This car may look unimpressive, but it’s been fully upgraded with a carbon fiber body. It’s already worth over half a million dollars. Too bad, none of you even recognized its true value.”

I was born able to see the colors of the bonds between wolves. The deeper the love, the closer the link came to crimson. When a heart began to waver, it faded to pale pink. When only habit and responsibility remained, it turned gray-white. When I was seven, my father brought another woman home, saying she only needed our pack’s temporary protection. From that day on, the link between him and my mother grew dimmer. My mother’s wolf fell silent, and her health deteriorated. The day she died, the light connecting them vanished. Years later, my brother marked his longtime girlfriend and formed a mate bond with her. Yet the light on his side was only pale pink. I warned him not to promise her forever if he did not love her. He insisted he would honor their bond and care for his mate. Less than six months later, he found another woman. After seeing so many links fade, I knew my gift never lied. I wanted someone who would keep choosing me, no matter how many years passed. Then I met Rhys Calder. He was the youngest head of security in the Greybridge Pack and a former border operative. Everyone said he was cold and exacting, a man who never allowed anyone close. Yet the first time we met, the link extending from him to me burned a brilliant red. After that, he picked me up from work every day, waited two hours for me in a storm, and once drove across half of Greybridge just to bring me flowers. Eventually, I accepted him. For seven years after we formed our mate bond, that link remained deep red. Rhys remembered that I loved the almond croissants from the bakery on the corner. He decorated the terrace himself on my birthdays. Every time he left Greybridge on an assignment, he brought gifts home for Jamie and me. I thought I had finally found the love I wanted. Then Rhys returned from a mission two weeks ago. When I helped him out of his coat, an unfamiliar rose scent clung to the fabric. At that moment, the link extending from him to me seemed to dim.

I was always sick as a kid. My parents were desperate. They’d try anything. So they got me a bunch of "guardian angels." Next thing I know, I'm set up and tossed into a horror game. Turns out, Medusa is my godmother. The ghost girl? My childhood playmate. And the final boss, a vampire? He's my fiancé. The first time we met, I was in a blind panic. I tripped and fell right onto his chiseled chest. "Oh—I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking—" I gasped, looking up at him. The words tumbled out in a rush. "And you're really handsome—but I didn't mean to fall on you! I have a heart condition!" The boss let out a laugh. He wiped the blood from his hands and swept me up into his arms. "Don't you worry," he purred, his voice dangerously smooth. "As your fiancé, I promise... I'll fix you right up."

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?

After my husband got his cheat ability, the very first thing he did was kick me out. His family threw me out by the scruff, and used my precious, life-saving money to hoard as much ice and cold drink as he could. He threw every single article of thick clothes and blankets, swearing to build the strongest ice oasis in the heatwave, but only I knew that there would be a brief period of extreme heat before the long ice age. All the ice they hoarded would only make them die faster. Later, I sat in my private villa, enjoying delicious food while I watched that scumbag's family beat each other bloody over dry bread.

Of the eight women who married into the Ferro family, I was the most useless. The other seven either ran casinos or controlled the docks. All I knew how to do was take the private jet to Paris and pick out jewelry. They talked family business. I only cared about Bulgari's latest high-jewelry collection. To them, I was just Simon Ferro's pretty, free-spending trophy wife, the woman he'd been crazy enough to marry. I didn't care. The family trust paid out every month, and my job was to sparkle. Until a mysterious consortium came after the Ferro family. The consortium put up three South African gold mines as collateral and drained the last of the family's legitimate cash. Everyone was scrambling, and the old Don went gray overnight. The powerful women in the family called in every connection they had, but they couldn't find a single clue about who was behind it. The man sat arrogantly in the seat of honor and demanded that my father-in-law hand over the family signet ring. I came downstairs with a drink in my hand and frowned. "Where'd this nouveau riche nobody come from? He's getting my couch dirty." Elena Ferro yanked me behind her. "Shut up and go back upstairs!" Simon instinctively pulled me into his arms to shield me. When it counted, the whole family closed ranks around me without a word. I reluctantly turned to go, only to catch sight of the antique panther brooch on the stranger's lapel. No way! A big shot with three gold mines, and his Cartier panther has cheap rhinestones for eyes?

I was like the pure and innocent Cinderella of a school romance novel. Unlike the aristocratic students around me, I didn't come from wealth or privilege. I earned my place at this elite academy through merit alone, my high scores opening the gates to a world far beyond my means. Cinderella is supposed to be stubborn, proud, and righteous—standing tall despite her humble origins. But I have none of those qualities. All I have is poverty.

On January 15, I finished filling out my college applications and went out to celebrate with my parents. Right then, a stream of comments appeared in front of me. [You're still celebrating? Chloe, the prettiest girl at school, scored just ten points lower than you. She hired a hacker to delete your application to Valemont University before you could submit it. [Your application to Valemont University is gone. If you don't catch it before tonight's deadline, you can kiss that school goodbye! [When your relatives find out at your graduation party, your parents will never hear the end of it. You'll end up at a community college, where some loser will sweep you off your feet. Before those two years are up, you'll have two kids. [Years of hard work, ruined in one day!] My head buzzed. I ran home and logged back into my application account. The comments were right. Someone had removed Valemont University from my list and deleted everything I entered. I went cold with anger. I added the school back, filled out the application again, and hit submit. Then, I headed for the door to confront Chloe Sherman. When I opened it, she stood on my doorstep, her eyes full of tears. "Gwen, have you lost your mind?!" she demanded through clenched teeth. "Did you mess with my college applications?"

I did not really go crazy when I found out my fiance was cheating on me. There was one simple reason. Solomon Zimmer had a strange condition—every time he lied, his body would break out in a rash. He had never been able to lie to me. So, when I confronted him, Solomon remained perfectly calm. "You're the one I love the most, Yvonne. I'd never cheat on you." There was no breakout. Unfortunately, I did not buy his story at all. Whenever he said he was doing overtime, I would wait outside his office. Whenever he went on a business trip, I would book a flight and follow him wherever he went. In the end, I installed surveillance cams in his car and GPS on his phone. When he found out what I had done, disappointment filled his eyes. "It's been six months. You went from unhinged to crazy. So, tell me, did you find out who the woman was?" He pulled my fingers away and tore his ring off. "If you have so little trust in me, perhaps we should delay the wedding indefinitely." That shattered me into a million pieces, and my depression attacked me at the same time. I was going to slit myself, but then a screen of comments popped up before my eyes. "Finally, the side character's getting the boot! MMC forced himself to take allergy meds for six months so he wouldn't have a breakout when this girl demanded answers from him." "Well, this character is the FMC's best friend. The FMC's been staying overseas all these years so she wouldn't break this side character's heart. Poor MMC. He had to travel back and forth for seven years." My hand froze in midair, and along it was the blade that would cut through my flesh. Then, my best friend, Louise Stone, messaged me. "I'm coming home, Yvonne."

The Moon Goddess offered me her protection. If I died, I'd get one chance to be reborn through the werewolf trials. I was born with "sensory impairment." I wasn't an Omega, but I couldn't shift into a wolf. I couldn't see or sense wolves in their lupine forms or their power. When I appeared alongside ninety-nine other trial candidates in an ancient rainforest shrouded in thick fog and darkness, everyone assumed I wouldn't make it past the first day. But here I was, in the terrifying rainforest nests, treating a ghostly wolf pup, drowned for its unusual coat color, as my own little cub. And, I flirted with a bloodthirsty vampire spirit who took pleasure in killing, treating him like a lover. I even befriended the evil twin Hexenbiest, treating them like sisters. The first time we met, I reached out and ran my hand over the vampire's abs. "Nice body," I commented, "just a bit on the short side." He let out a humorless laugh, reattached the head he'd been holding to his neck, and gripped my chin. "I'm six-foot-five," he said. "Want to take another look?"

Ever since I was a kid, I noticed a pattern: I made a wish, my adopted sister got double. She stole everything from me. Even my biological mother treated her like royalty. Until her 99th pool party show-off. I stopped playing the silent, good girl. I made a new wish. "I want a hot date with a wild 26-year-old rocker." The next day, a smelly 52-year-old ex-con stalked her and groped her right in our living room. I made another wish. "I want to lose 10 pounds." Mia worshipped her pristine Size 0 figure. A twenty-pound drop would kill her. My father dropped his dignity and fell to his knees by my heels, sobbing: "Please, stop wishing!" I looked down at him and smirked coldly: "I wish to forfeit six hours of sleep every night. For art. For inspiration." My adopted sister went completely insane on the spot.

"Honey, I cut my finger. It hurts so much!" I had just sent Perry Clayton a photo of the shallow cut on my index finger when a barrage of comments suddenly flashed before my eyes: [I can't stand this whiny supporting character. The male lead is a CEO worth twenty billion dollars, and she bothers him over a tiny cut.] [Our girl starts working at his company tomorrow. Once he sees how strong and understanding she is, he'll dump his wife in a heartbeat.] [Later, this drama queen refuses to divorce him, keeps pestering him, and even frames our girl. In the end, he breaks her arms and legs and locks her up in a psychiatric hospital.] The vicious words filled my vision, and I clenched my fingers in anger. Just then, Perry rushed in from outside and grabbed my hand, fear still written in his eyes. "Thank goodness it's only a scratch. Honey, what were you trying to cut? I'll do it for you."

It was my third day working as an NPC cashier in a horror game when the supermarket got completely wrecked by players. They stormed in, smashing shelves, looting everything, setting fires, feeling real proud of themselves. "Told you the shopkeeper here was useless. Absolutely trash in all combat stats," one said. "Grab whatever you want. Once we're done, we'll just kill the owner," another chimed in. My mouth was gagged. I shook my head in terror. One of the players sneered. "Begging? That won't save you." No! That was not what I was trying to say! I was trying to tell them that today was the NPC internal shopping day. Three minutes from now, every single dungeon boss in the entire game would be rushing here to shop.

After my family and I are dragged into a roguelike horror simulation, they favor my cousin, Julian Clark, over me. In a lobby of blood-soaked players, he always manages to stay spotless, earning their praise as someone who has "kept his humanity". He's unlike me, the brute who willingly throws himself into melee combat and hacks down monsters just to keep everyone else alive. During one dungeon run, a terrifying entity targets my younger sister, Millie Larsson. I draw my blade and move in for the kill, but Julian stops me with a sorrowful smile. "Every creature has a soul. Gabriel, if you kill it, you'll only enrage it and burden Millie with the sin of bloodshed." Millie believes all the nonsense he says and begins resenting me for interfering. Later, when a veteran player steals Julian's life-saving loot drop, I nearly die reclaiming it for him. Instead of thanking me, he takes pity on the woman robbing him and hands the item back to her. He condemns me for being too ruthless, claiming I know nothing about showing mercy to women. Then comes the advanced raid. Cornered by the final boss, I beg Julian to activate the high-tier talisman I've given him, buying me just one second to escape. He recoils from my bloodstained hand in disgust and turns to my parents instead. "Gabriel provoked the boss himself. He's too violent. I can't risk wiping the whole party just to save him." In the end, I die in the boss' jaws. Julian steps over my shattered bones and blood to clear the raid, eventually becoming the server's most celebrated player for being the Untainted Saint. But fate grants me a second chance. I awaken once more in the game's central lobby, right before everything begins. This time, I want to see how long their precious humanity lasts in a world overrun by horrors when the blood-soaked blade that always carries their party is no longer there to protect them.

My best friend is bound to a trade system—she can force a swap with me three times. At 13, she takes my heart. At 18, she takes my SAT scores. And now, for the final swap, she wants my entire identity. I hide under the covers, unable to hold back a laugh. My villa is rented, and my family background is totally fake. Go ahead, bestie. Swap away! This time, I really hope you don't hold back.

I only learned how to speak when I was eight years old. Everyone in the Wentworth family calls me an idiot. Even my mom secretly wipes her tears away, thinking that she's given birth to an autistic son. My dad looks at me with disappointment in his eyes. But he never sends me to a special-needs school due to his need to preserve the family's reputation. One day, Winston Pembroke from Broadwell Street comes over to purchase my family's company, Wentworth Group. He puts on a high and mighty attitude and berates everyone in the meeting room to the point that they can only hang their heads in shame. Despite the room being filled with the company's elites, no one dares to respond to Winston. As I stand in a corner, I feel my eyelids drooping while listening to Winston's tirade. Ugh. How annoying. So, I take a step forward and utter my first ever sentence in Winston's mother tongue.

Several comments suddenly float across my vision on the day the college entrance exam results are released. "I can't believe that he's still in the mood to laugh. Your girlfriend is using the exchange system to swap your college entrance exam results with Hugo's!" "I feel so sorry for Daniel. He's the genius of the school, and yet he's only going to score 400 points for the college entrance exams." "That's not all! Taylor's system has the ability to absorb Daniel's luck. She's going to use his entire family as stepping stones to pave her own future." "She's so ruthless. I can't believe that she's going to 'annihilate' her boyfriend's family just because his better background makes her feel inferior." A chill runs down my spine as I stare at the strange comments scrolling past my eyes. I'm the "Daniel" the commenters are referring to, the unlucky sap whose college entrance exam results were swapped with the poor student Hugo Powell's. I have no idea that my good-natured girlfriend, Taylor Wakeham, hates me so much. However, what the commenters don't know is that I've already secured a special invitation from Woodrow University's Department of Science long ago. I only take the college entrance exams purely because I want to experience what it's like. Not wanting to take up space on the rankings, I write all my answers on a spare piece of paper instead of the actual answer sheet.

I'm doing my hospital rounds in the middle of the night when my personal phone suddenly rings. I answer it, hearing a frantic woman's voice. "My husband is having a heart attack! Please hurry over and save him, Dr. Chapman!" I'm just about to ask for the address and leave when rows of comments suddenly pop up right in front of my eyes. [Don't go!] [Her husband is actually already long dead.] [She's left the doormat outside her door wet, just waiting for you to step on it.] [She'll insist her husband died because you attempted to save him the moment you enter the house.] I feel a chill spread through the back of my neck. On the other end of the line, the woman starts crying even harder. "Are you still on the line? My husband really isn't going to make it, Dr. Chapman!" I take a deep breath and say, "If your husband is having a heart attack, please call 911 first. I'm not allowed to treat patients privately outside the hospital."