Mga Maiikling Kuwento at Nobelang Bias Imagination Cheating

On the day of my wedding to Christine Moore, strange floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [LMAO, the real young master still has no idea the bride is fake! Christine is at the hospital accompanying the fake heir Troy Bolton right now!] [It doesn’t matter who the bride is anyway. Christine only agreed to the marriage for the Shane family’s investment. The fake heir is her true love.] [Serves this villain right for driving our poor Troy away the moment he came back. In the end, the female lead destroys his entire family, and honestly, he deserves it.] I hid the shock in my eyes and finished the wedding as if nothing had happened. I refused to become a stepping stone in someone else’s love story. And I definitely refused to die as their disposable villain. If she did not want to marry me, then fine. I would make the fake wedding real, and marry someone else instead.

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.

My husband, Gideon Hale, returned from the war with barely a breath left in him. Yet despite his condition, he insisted on going to the palace and used his military achievements to secure a royal decree. I thought he had gone to obtain a noble title for me. I was ready to berate him for his foolishness, but the contents of the decree rooted me to the spot. [By royal decree, Gideon Hale, Marquis of Northguard, and his first wife, Clara Reinhart, are permitted to share a tomb.] Clara was my dearest friend from girlhood. My ears rang. I opened my mouth to demand an explanation, but before I could utter a word, Gideon breathed his last. I stood frozen until my son suddenly snatched the decree from my hands and said impatiently, "Mother is Father's true wife. I'm her son too. You gave birth to a daughter, but she died long ago." The words struck me like lightning, and a sharp pain twisted through my chest. "You... What did you just say?" My son didn't answer. Instead, he ordered someone to bring out the family register. The place that had always belonged to me as Gideon's lawful wife now bore Clara Reinhart's name, inscribed there by Gideon's own hand with the utmost solemnity. "Father allowed you to keep the dignity of being his wife. He never publicly acknowledged Mother his entire life. You should be grateful, shouldn't you?" Then he handed me our marriage certificate. Gideon's name still stood beside Clara's. Yet the marriage certificate I had treasured for years was completely blank, as though it had never borne a single word. Only then did the full truth sink in. Not only had I been nothing more than a consort all these years, but I had also raised another woman's child as my own. Before I could draw another breath, I died with my eyes wide open. When I opened them again, I had returned to the day I gave birth.

The moment we witness the last surviving child in the safehouse getting pinned to the wall by a zombie before having his guts torn out, all the men in the team break down mentally. "Captain, didn't you claim that Selene kept rambling nonsense because she had gone crazy out of fright toward the zombies? Isn't that why you reassured us to keep watch while you and Madeline watched the sunrise on the summit? "Why is it that my newborn has already gotten devoured by a zombie as soon as I return to the safehouse?" Quinton Morwood goes deathly pale at the accusation. My heart feels as though it's gotten torn into pieces as I stare at the tragedy. In my previous life, when the zombies attacked the safehouse, Quinton, who was the captain of the defence team, had taken the entire team with him just so he could watch the sunrise with Madeline Moore at the mountain summit. I did everything I could to summon everyone back to the base. That was how everyone's lives were spared from the zombie attack. But Madeline was pissed that she did't get to watch the sunrise, so she left the safezone angrily on her own. That was how she got grabbed by a zombie and eaten by a horde. By the time Quinton and his squad killed the entire horde, he just hugged Madeline's femur to his chest without saying a single word. On the day I gave birth to my baby, Quinton hacked my limbs off before throwing me into the roaming hordes of zombies. I could only watch as the zombies tore my flesh off my bones before Quinton saved me again by healing me. The cycle kept going on and on until I witnessed the last piece of flesh being torn off my body. "You're the one who killed Madeline, you wretched woman! Since you like competing with her that much, I'll make sure you'll die a worse death than hers!" When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day the zombies are attacking the safezone.

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.

In eight years together, my boyfriend—Shayne Raffield—blocked me eighty-eight times. This time? Because I missed his call. At my best friend's birthday party. Usually, I'd panic-order a gift, then stand outside his office, head down, ready to beg. But today? I blocked him first. The Chat Feed popped up, loud as ever: [Nooo, Ley-Bae, don't block Shay-Shay! He's just got abandonment issues. Comfort him!] [Shay's heart = shattered; Eyes = red. Ley, go! One pout and he's yours again!] Then Shayne called. Didn't say a word. Just breathed for ten seconds and hung up. The Chat Feed freaked out. [AHHHH SHAY LOVES LEY SO MUCH HE JUST SUCKS AT SAYING IT. THIS COWARD'S GONNA LOSE HIS GIRL.]

Benjamin Shaw and I had been together for ten years, from dating to wedding. To everyone else, we were the perfect couple. However, on the day of our tenth anniversary, I got into a car accident. When Benjamin rushed to the hospital, his eyes were full of worry. "How could you be so careless? If anything happened to you… I wouldn't want to live either." I was just about to comfort him when two strange lines of text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Benjamin, this scumbag! Acting so loving while secretly cheating on Emma Jones behind her back!] [When will Emma finally realize he's already betrayed her?]

Tonight, my wife was working overtime at the office. I was about to enjoy some alone time playing video games. The Tesla car application on my phone sent an alarm notification: [Abnormal vibrations detected in the car. Please check.] Following the location sent, I arrived at the parking lot below my wife's company. I saw her sweating profusely in the car with her fitness instructor. My mind went blank. Suddenly, a mechanical voice rang out in my mind: [Congratulations! You have been linked to the Cuckold King system. Complete the task, and you will receive $100 million as a reward!]

After clawing my way to the top and driving out the first wife, I lived by one rule only. Whoever paid was king. So I became Jesse Fleming's perfect trophy wife. He liked innocent, delicate girls, so I looked at him with wide, clear eyes. He hated materialistic women, so I wore faded dresses and told him love could conquer anything. Then he fell for a wild, redheaded girl from the streets. "You can't give me what Gina does. Let's break up." He slid a bank card across the table. "Sarah, sign the papers, and the 50 million is yours. You don't want to walk away with nothing, do you?" I looked down at the agreement, clenching my fists. Then a live chat popped up. 'Just sign it already. He's got HIV. You'll die if you stay with him!' I was about to sign the papers, but froze and tore the papers into pieces the next second.

When I catch my wife, Megan Fisher, cheating with my best friend, my severe depression drives me to the rooftop. My best friend, Alan Smith, is so remorseful that he slashes his face with a knife and leaves the country. To put me at ease, Megan puts a tracking device on herself and hands over her phone whenever she comes home. Whenever she leaves the house, even if it's just for five minutes, she will video call me to tell me where she is. That goes on until Megan becomes pregnant for the second time. While I set up Megan's prenatal records at the hospital, I receive a video call from myself—ten years in the future. The man on the screen looks as gaunt as a ghost, making my heart tremble. "Is my illness still not cured yet?" His eyes turn red, and he flips the camera around. In the frame, Megan is standing behind Alan. She is looking at him with eyes that hold suppressed devotion. "You asked me to be a good wife, so I did. But I'll never have his child! That's his punishment for ruining your face." "Megan, have you lost your mind?" Alan yells at her, but tears are streaming down his face. My face turns pale, and my future self lets out an unhinged laugh. "Go ask the nurse and see for yourself just how big a fool you are." Just as he finishes, the nurse says in confusion, "Mr. Sullivan, the system shows that you're single. You said your wife's name is Megan Fisher. She registered here last year, and her husband is listed as Alan Smith."

When the news of my husband's death reached me, I was seven months pregnant. My vision went black, and I fainted on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, a childish voice shouted in my head, "Mommy, wake up! Scumbag Daddy tricked you! He's not dead! He's with his mistress who's about to steal your identity!" I was stunned. The voice angrily spoke again, "The head of the Shaw family from the capital is your biological brother. Today, Scumbag Daddy is going to let his mistress take your place as his long-lost sister! Then, he and his mistress will conspire to kill you, and my brother and I will be sold off. To protect me, my brother will get his legs broken by human traffickers in the future and starve to death!" The child's heartbreaking cry jolted me awake from my grief like a bucket of ice water. I thought it was a hallucination, but then I heard the voice of an unfamiliar man in the living room. "Mr. Shaw, this is Miss Alice Woods. She's the long-lost sister that you've been looking for for twenty years!"

At our engagement party, Regina Horton walks toward me through the crowd, arm in arm with Larry Dickson, and says, "Since you love me so much, Dominic Carlson, I will ask Larry Dickson to proceed with the engagement with me in your place instead." I meet her unyielding eyes as a mechanical voice echoes in my mind. "Hi, Dominic. This is the 1000th day since you failed to win over the female lead. Do you wish to give up on being her sugar daddy?" "Yes." "Got it. You may choose a future path for her as well." "I want her bound to Larry for the rest of her life."

Ten minutes before the wedding ceremony is about to begin, I receive a disturbing photo on my phone. In it, a man with deeply sunken eyes is crawling on the ground like a dog. He is so skinny that he's nothing more than skin and bones. Meanwhile, my bride, Waverly Suther, is looming over the man on the floor as she gazes down at him with a disdainful sneer. Just as I'm about to block the number of the person who sent me this disturbing prank photo, that person sends me another two messages. "Run away from the wedding! Right now! Don't marry Waverly Suther, no matter what!" "That man on the floor is you ten years from now!"

My girlfriend, Sophie Selby, and my best friend, Darren Norton, have been at each other's throats for the past month. They're both determined to make the wedding perfect for me. Sophie wants something classic and grand. Darren insists romantic and picture-perfect is the way to go. They go through dozens of plans, arguing over everything from the guest count and Sophie's dress to the reception menu. And every time, I end up playing referee. Sophie rarely wins an argument with Darren, though somehow, we still end up going with whatever works best for her. They both joke that I'm the lucky one because I get to sit back and let them handle everything. The funny part is, whenever I actually try to give an opinion, neither of them wants to hear it. Darren just grins. "Relax. I've got this. You're getting the perfect wedding." Sophie sighs helplessly. "It's fine. Just a few more days. I can survive him that long." The night before the wedding, they're at it again. This time, it's the flowers. "I'm just saying, gardenias are prettier. Lilies are tacky." Sophie scoffs. "So you say you want gardenias, and suddenly everyone has to change the flowers for you? Can you stop making such a fuss?" Darren comes to find me afterward, looking completely crushed. "Zack, what do you think?" Honestly, I agree with Sophie. Changing all the flowers this late sounds like a nightmare. But then I see the hurt look on Darren's face. I sigh, ready to take his side. Before I can say a word, Sophie's thoughts suddenly sound in my head. [Fine. I owe Darren. I'll pay extra and have them switch the flowers to gardenias.] A second later, Darren's thoughts come through just as clearly. [Gardenias mean secret love. I may never get to be with you, but as long as you're happy, that's enough for me.]

Being fair and treating everyone equally has always mattered most to Chase Russell. That's why he has a specialized chip implanted in my uterus. Whenever his childhood sweetheart, Joanna Reynolds, suffers from morning sickness or any other discomfort during her pregnancy, every bit of her pain is transferred to me. "Didn't you always dream of experiencing what it's like to be a mother? I'm making that dream come true for you." The day Joanna goes into labor, the pain hits me so hard that I pass out in the hospital corridor. But Chase is in the delivery room, gently comforting her. "How are you feeling? It doesn't hurt at all, does it?" Later, he tells me he wants to hold a wedding with Joanna, so she and their child can have a proper place in the family. "Although Joanna will be the one marrying me, you'll still be the one whose name is on the marriage certificate," he says. "I told you… I've always treated you both equally." I say nothing. I simply take off the wedding ring he gave me and return it to him. When the wedding march begins to play, I have already boarded a one-way flight to a faraway place.

My company hosts an appreciation gala to thank long-time clients. I go to the company's cold storage to retrieve the batch of wine just flown in from overseas when a stream of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "That was close! She almost caught Daisy covered in red wine and looking all seductive. Good thing Tristan reacted fast and hid her in the freezer." "Can Scarlett just leave already? Look how cold Daisy and Tristan are. They are shivering. What if they catch a cold?" I pause mid-step, my gaze landing on the freezer behind me. Red wine is dripping out, and a piece of fabric is caught in the door. On it, I see the motif I personally sew onto my fiancé's clothes. Just then, the comments appear again. "Tristan plays it cool, claiming he is all about platonic love and staying chaste for Daisy. What a touching romance!" I smirked coldly. The platonic act is fake. The truth is he's cheating on me. Without a word, I turn around and toss the clothes they leave on the floor into the trash. Then, I lock the cold storage door and call the boss, who is in the middle of giving a speech. I exclaim over the phone, "A thief broke into the company! I locked them in the cold storage. Please bring some men and come over quickly!"

Everyone was having a blast on the yacht for Valentine’s Day when my boyfriend, Ethan Hayes, asked me to go tell his uncle I fancied him. “Go on, tell him. You’re a lucky girl if he actually takes a liking to you! Next time we meet, I might even have to call you auntie!” Vivian Lawrence, his childhood sweetheart, was by my boyfriend’s side, smiling triumphantly. Just a few minutes ago, they had shared a glass of cocktail. I clutched the watch in my pocket—bought with two months of my savings to make peace—my heart riddled with holes. Suddenly, a line of live comment lit up before my eyes: “I’m sick of this jerk. Girl, go for the uncle. He’s the real big shot. He’s fancied you for a long time, even gave up everything abroad to come back to you!” Looking at the sneering Ethan, I took a deep breath, pulled up my skirt, revealing my long, straight legs. “Fine, I’ll give it a try! “If he returns my affection, you’ll have to call me your aunt soon.”

The year I lose my eyesight, I happen to stumble upon Wendy Peck, who's just moments away from freezing to death. I beg my mom to save her, telling her I want a companion to guide me. Leaning toward Wendy, I whisper a promise in her ear. "I don't need you to be my guide. Just focus on staying alive. And you can go wherever you want." But after my mom remarries, Wendy stays and becomes the only person I have left to rely on. She watches over me as I grow up, acting as my white cane year after year. She even goes so far as to walk away from her dream and incredible talent for painting to study medicine, all for the sake of my eyes. But even though she has become one of the best eye doctors in the world, I still can't see a thing. Then, on my 25th birthday, Wendy's former closest friend, Abel Petersen, wins a prestigious art award. Wendy locks herself in the study, and all I hear is the rustling of paper. Keeping her emotions in check, she tells me she's writing me a birthday wish. Just as I happily step forward to kiss her, lines of comments suddenly sweep across my pitch-black vision. "Wake up, you blind idiot. She just tore all her paintings to shreds, and on the back of every single one, she wrote, 'Drop dead, James Glover.'" "Don't take another step forward! She left a live wire in front of you. If you step on it, you're a goner!" I freeze in my tracks. Then, with a smile, I continue to stride toward her. "Wendy, all your wishes will definitely come true."

After completing my mission, I married the man I had been trying to win over. On our wedding night, I told him that the system had given me ninety-nine regret pills. Whenever he did something that hurt me, I would take one. Once all the pills were gone, I would completely leave his life. He held me close and promised he would never give me a reason to regret being with him. Three months into our marriage, his childhood sweetheart came back from abroad. The first time he stayed out all night, he realized that I would quietly take a pill after just crying once. After that, he began to act without any restraint. Ten years later, on our anniversary, his childhood sweetheart threatened to kill herself again. He left me without hesitation to handle the situation. The next day, he returned with his neck covered in love bites and begged for my forgiveness. I did not cry. I looked at him calmly and asked, “Can I take one of the regret pills?” He shrugged as if it did not matter. “Go ahead. There are plenty left.” I smiled and let him bring her into our home. He did not know that there were only three pills left in the box. Once they were gone, I would leave him for good.

The night before the SAT, I record a video call between my present self and my future self ten years from now. Except the line actually connects to my future self. "Did I make it into Crythoria University's joint bachelor's-master's program? Is Brielle still my best friend? "If everything went according to plan, I should be done with grad school by now and married to David, right? High school sweethearts tying the knot! "Maybe we even have a cute kid together? I've already picked out a nickname." I blush, letting my imagination run wild. But the moment David Barrett's name leaves my mouth, the future me flies into a rage. "David gave you disappearing ink pens so Brielle could become the top scorer in the city! You didn't get into Crythoria. You had to repeat your senior year. "David acted heartbroken and promised to make long-distance work. Then he turned right around, went public with Brielle at college, and became the couple everyone envies. "Felicity Fisher, you absolute idiot! You got cheated on and still thanked Brielle for taking care of your boyfriend!"