Plot Twists Imagination Short Stories & Bias Face Slapping Novels

When the owner of the horror game world summoned me home to reunite with my family, I was busy scolding the horrors in my dungeon. After spending years as a dungeon boss, I finally learned that I was the heiress of the Swans in the real world. The moment I stepped through the front door, carrying the gifts my horrors gave me on my back, the fake heiress shoved me hard to the ground. "Don't even think you can come back and take my place! Mom and Dad will never love you!" My birth parents treated me with indifference, made me sleep in the storage room, and used me to make their fake daughter look good. At a banquet, my fiancé splashed red wine on me before acting intimate with the fake heiress right in front of my face. It wasn't until the fake heiress was chosen to participate in 'Call of the Sea', a horror scenario, that they remembered my value. Without any hesitation, they bound me to enter the game with her, gently reassuring her, "Don't worry, Anna, we'll make sure you're safe no matter what!" "Don't be afraid, alright? Sylvia will die in your place!" None of them noticed the mocking smile on my lips. Silently, I spoke in my heart, 'Welcome to my dungeon! Now, none of you will leave alive!'

On April Fool's Day, my husband sent me an intimate photo of himself and his secretary, Claire Bennett. "I've actually been with Claire for three years. Our child is already two years old. "I'm planning to fake my death in a car accident and then move overseas with her and our daughter." The look of shock on my face made him burst out laughing. "Got you. It was April Fool's Day. You didn't actually believe that, did you?" I had just breathed a sigh of relief when he casually added, "But the part about Claire and me having a child is true." I said nothing as I looked at the smug, provocative grin on his face. What he didn't know was that I'd possessed a Lies Come True System since childhood. Whenever someone sincerely told me a lie, that lie would come true. And the death he casually joked about would become reality just three days later.

After failing my mission, the system sent me back to the modern world and stripped away all my emotions. But three years later, alarms suddenly blared through my mind as the system went into a frenzy. The system told me that Adrian Blackwood, the Regent I failed to win over, had gone mad. He bathed the royal court in blood and was determined to drag the entire Kingdom of Ashbourne into ruin. The only thing keeping him going was his obsession with seeing me one more time. I refused immediately. He had already ruined my life. Why should I go back and save him? The system grew so desperate that it started glitching. In the end, it offered me a blood-bound contract: if I agreed to return, all penalties would be erased. On top of that, it would give me a fortune large enough to let me live comfortably for the rest of my life. After weighing the pros and cons, I agreed. But when the emotionless version of me stood before Adrian once again, the Regent who held the entire kingdom in his grasp dropped to his knees at my feet.

Nathan Carter was famous in high society for being completely devoted to his wife. All because I had an almost obsessive need to control him. Not only did he have to video call me every five minutes to check in, but every morning when I woke up, I expected a five-thousand-word love letter waiting for me. The first time he was a minute late checking in, my paranoia spiraled out of control, and I bombarded him with ninety-nine voice messages, threatening to kill myself. He transferred me one million dollars, dropped to his knees, and swore it would never happen again before I reluctantly forgave him. His voice softened as he leaned closer, trying to kiss me. Suddenly, a flood of comments exploded across my vision. [Exactly! Once Quinn catches HIV, he should dump her. A villainess like her deserves to get sick, lose the baby, and die a miserable death!] [Who could put up with a crazy woman like her? If she hadn't pushed the male lead so hard, he never would've slept around and contracted HIV!] [When is the female lead finally going to show up? I can't wait for her and the male lead to heal each other and get their happily ever after!] I looked at Nathan, who had already taken off his shirt, his breathing heavy. I hurriedly grabbed a towel from the side and wrapped it around myself. "Honey, I'm suddenly not feeling very well. Don't you have a meeting to get to? You should go. I don't want to keep you from work."

On Alaric's wedding day, I brought a gift to the wedding feast. I had barely taken my seat when someone swung straight at my face. Alaric's bride, a transmigrator who called herself an expert in noble-household intrigue, glared at me in her wedding gown. "So you're the prince's former betrothed? How does a defeated rival still have the nerve to show up at the wedding feast? Have you no shame?" A palace maid caught her hand before the slap landed, and I studied her with a dark expression. Before I could speak, Lydia of House Leicester mocked me again. "What? Are you going to say you only came to offer your blessings? I grew up watching period dramas. Don't think I don't know what filthy thoughts a medieval woman like you is hiding. "You came here pretending to congratulate us while planning to ruin the wedding feast and make the prince change his mind, didn't you? Too bad Alaric promised me that I would be his only wife for life. Even if you were to strip naked and stand in front of him, he wouldn't touch you!" Then she raised her brow at the women behind her. The noblewomen and ladies who were friendly with her surrounded me, scorn on their faces. Then they reached out to slap me. "Exactly, you wench! How dare you provoke Princess Lydia? We'll make you pay for it today!" The courtyard fell into chaos. Insults and jeers came one after another. Just as the women were about to grab my hair, the chief steward Edwin quickly stood in front of me and shouted, "Enough! I would like to see who dares to show disrespect to the Grand Princess of this realm, Her Royal Highness Princess Sophia!"

"Honey, the soles of my shoes are lambskin. They can't get wet. Come pick me up." I had just sent Preston Hale that message when a swarm of floating comments suddenly exploded through the rain. [I'm so sick of this drama-queen villainess. The male lead is a billionaire CEO, and she's treating him like a dog.] [Our darling heroine has already joined the company. Once the male lead sees how gentle and sensible she is, he'll dump this woman right away.] [Lol. After the divorce, she won't know how to do anything. She'll have to become some sleazy livestreamer.] Watching the screen fill with malice, I clenched my fingers in anger. Just then, Preston came running over with an umbrella, half of his custom suit soaked through. When he saw my pale knuckles, he froze, then carefully tugged at my sleeve. "I'm sorry, honey. Any faster and I'd have been speeding."

I had just been confirmed as a match and was preparing to donate a kidney to my husband's adoptive sister. That night, she left her iPad in the living room. The screen was still on, showing her chat with the doctor: [Doctor, please don't tell my sister-in-law. If she has a kidney removed, her hidden heart condition will flare up, and she won't live longer than three months.] The next day, I canceled the donation without a second thought. My husband flew into a rage. He called me cold-blooded and forced me to sign a divorce agreement that left me with nothing. The next day, I stood outside the hospital room and heard my sister-in-law laughing smugly. "She's so stupid. I faked one chat screenshot, and she actually believed she was sick. Now her penthouse is mine, and we can finally be together openly." My husband kissed her. "Good girl. Later, I'll find you a good kidney on the black market." Outside the door, I sneered. Of course, I knew the chat log was fake. I had come back from the future, after all. In two weeks, the zombie outbreak would begin. Those two so-called siblings who were actually lovers would not only steal my medicine, they would push me out to feed me to the zombies. This time, with only four days left before zombie hordes overran the city, I wanted to see how long a sick woman without a new kidney and a scumbag without supplies could last in that penthouse.

At my daughter’s graduation party, the laptop I gave her turned out to be the same model as the one my ex-wife's boyfriend gave her. She slammed the computer I bought violently onto the ground, smashing it to pieces. "You obviously knew Chad was going to give me this, yet you bought the same one. You just want to make Chad look bad!" My daughter screamed hysterically at me, while my ex-wife flashed a malicious smile. Half a month later, my daughter secretly drugged me during dinner. When I woke up, I found myself smuggled across the border, trapped inside a cold iron cage. On stage, the auctioneer announced, "Today, we're auctioning off every single organ from this man's body. Highest bidder wins!" Meanwhile, my daughter sat down below the stage, her gaze filled with venomous hatred. "Connor, since you love buying identical things just to steal everyone else's spotlight, today, we'll let you steal the spotlight to your heart's content! "Let's see which of your organs you actually have the power to save on your poor worker's salary!" As my heart turned to stone, I silently awakened the system that I had neglected for many years. [Ding—Host has successfully activated the Damage Transfer System.]

My wife's first love was bound to an "overachiever" system—every ounce of exhaustion he racked up from grinding away at work got transferred straight to me. He pulled seven straight all-nighters to land a multi-million-dollar deal and became a legend in the industry. Meanwhile, I ended up in the ER with heart failure. When I tried to explain it to my wife, she shot me a look of pure disgust. "You're just born lazy," she snapped. "You can't stand seeing him succeed at such a young age, so you make up some sick fairy tale to accuse him." After that, every late night he pulled chipped away at my body. First came nervous exhaustion, then organ failure—until I was hanging on by a thread. I went to the hospital for tests, but the doctors couldn't find a thing. A few even hinted I might be suffering from paranoid delusions. Then, to get his company listed on the stock exchange, he locked himself in his office for two weeks straight. I wound up dead from overexertion in my own room. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night of his very first all-nighter. This time, I bolted the door, pulled out a full strip of sleeping pills, and smiled. "Time to sleep."

"Sienna, he looks so pitiful." In my last life, I listened to my younger sister and chose the black fox who hadn't even taken human form as my fiancé. I poured everything I had into helping him take human form, but he carved out my inner core and presented it to my sister to curry her favor. When I lived again, at the mate-selection ceremony, my sister once more pointed pitifully at the black fox. In front of everyone, I chose the four-tailed white fox she wanted most. Then I "gifted" the black fox to her.

The day I got fired, I received a trial pass from an AI cosmetic clinic. It required neither surgery nor recovery time, yet it could deliver a flawless celebrity face overnight. But there was a catch. The face only lasted seven days after the complimentary trial. To keep it, I signed a contract to become the actress' body double, trading my time, identity, and freedom for another week of beauty. As the years passed, I kept paying the price to maintain a face that wasn't mine until one day, I realized I no longer wanted to live in someone else's shadow.

An ambulance rushed in during my night shift, carrying a pregnant woman in critical condition due to severe bleeding. I was about to head into the operating room when I suddenly saw a stream of comments appearing in front of me. "Don't go in there! That pregnant woman is your wife. She had sex with her side dude in the wilderness, and that's what caused the bleeding!" "Your wife is even planning to fake her death and run away with him. She's also setting you up for medical malpractice so you'll end up in prison!" "That baby isn't even yours. And your in-laws are already on their way with the police to arrest you!" After reading those comments, my expression turned dark. At that same moment, I heard the nurse urgently calling me to hurry.

On my wedding anniversary, my three-year-old son gave me an alpaca as a gift. I turned right around and shipped it off to the circus, where I found it a strapping alpaca husband. All because I'd been reborn. In my last life, that alpaca was sweet and gentle with everyone—except me. Every single day, it spat on me. Determined not to disappoint my son, I tried everything to win it over, but nothing worked. My mind unraveled. I stopped sleeping. I started hearing things that weren't there, and every night I dreamed of that alpaca chasing me down to spit in my face. My husband called me vicious. My son called me petty. And the two of them only grew closer to that alpaca by the day. Worn down and broken, I swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills and ended it. Floating above my own body after death, I watched in shock as it stood back up on its own. My son ran sobbing into "my" arms. "Mom, you're finally not an alpaca anymore!" My husband smiled and pulled them both into an embrace. "Nadia, you've been through so much. If it weren't for needing a healthy body to move your soul into, you'd never have had to suffer inside that alpaca for two years." That was when I finally understood. That alpaca had been Nadia Salem all along—the sickly impostor who'd stolen my identity for over twenty years.

My husband, Brody Singer, is the deputy director of a hospital and is known for being level-headed. He is so levelheaded that on the very day I miscarry, he still chooses to take Isabelle Wood, his late rescuer's widow, to look at cemetery plots first. He says, "She's been dreaming about David a lot lately, and it's making her uneasy. You have nurses over there. I'll be right back." Lying in my hospital bed, I open the location he sends me. It's an upscale cemetery with a double burial plot. The permanent maintenance fee costs 18,000 dollars. I text him back, "Nice choice. The grave is located in a bustling commercial district." He doesn't reply, but the comments floating before my eyes start answering for him. "Don't be so sarcastic. He just thinks his rescuer died too young and feels sorry that his widow has to spend the rest of her life alone." "He only married Roxanne out of convenience. Isabelle is his true soulmate and the one he secretly loves with all his heart." "Later, he'll make Roxanne sign papers to sell their home, saying the money is for Isabelle's retirement. The reason he gives is that they are still young and can easily earn money again." As the nurse hooks me up to an IV, I feel a chill on the back of my hand. I think of my wedding ring. Back then, Brody told me doctors shouldn't wear anything too expensive because it gets in the way during surgery. So my ring costs a mere 2,900 dollars. Today, he swipes his card and pays 18,000 dollars without hesitation when Isabelle says she wants to buy burial plots. I tuck the IV tubing closer beneath my sleeve and send my lawyer a message. "Draft a divorce agreement for me. Also, look into my husband's hotel records and spending history." After sending it, I quickly follow up with another text. "Move fast. He's in a hurry to repay his debt of gratitude, and he's burning through money pretty quickly."

After toiling in the underworld for three hundred years, I finally earned enough merit to be reincarnated. Then the King of Hell got drunk. Instead of sending me back as a human, he accidentally dropped me into the animal realm, where I was reborn as a plump orange cat belonging to the Sterlings, one of the wealthiest families in Evermont. Feeling guilty, the King of Hell compensated me with a hundred-year lifespan and one bizarre bonus: I could understand babies. Since I was stuck there anyway, I embraced the easy life, growing up alongside Victoria Sterling, the Sterlings' spoiled young heiress. Over the years, she became my devoted meal ticket, and I became an irreplaceable member of her family. On the day she gave birth, I lounged outside the delivery room, happily crunching on my imported freeze-dried treats. A panicked baby voice suddenly echoed in my head. [Waaah! I don't want them to take me away! My scumbag father is swapping me with his illegitimate daughter!] [I don't want to end up in an orphanage! I don't want to leave Mommy!] Before I could process that, another baby's voice rang out sinisterly. [Once I become the real heiress, the first thing I'll do is poison that woman and that fat cat.] I froze mid-bite. Every hair on my body stood on end. [Meow. You really picked the wrong cat to mess with.] [Anyone who dares lay a finger on the girl I raised is about to learn a very painful lesson.] With one powerful kick of my hind legs, I launched myself like a furry cannonball straight toward the delivery room.

Ever since I was little, I have been able to hear what human organs were saying. My sickly roommate was overjoyed when she found out about this. “Lena, you can hear organs talk, and I’ve got gastritis. You must’ve been sent by the heavens to protect me! From now on, I’m putting my health in your hands, okay?” After that, she came up with endless ways to make me wait on her. “Lena, I sent you the pickup code. You know I have gastritis. I can’t walk too much.” “Lena, I want pasta tomorrow. Make sure you hurry back with it. If it gets cold, it’ll hurt my stomach.” Every time, I would simply let out a sigh and agree. It was until one day, when I came back after grabbing something to eat, I accidentally overheard her talking on the phone. “What, organs talking? If Lena could really hear them, wouldn’t she have figured out that I’m faking it by now? If she wants to play along, I’ll play along too. “Some people are born to be the heroine of the story. Others are born to be servants. Perfect timing. I picked out a dress today. Just watch how I get her to pay for it.” I pretended I had not heard a thing, I pushed open the door. The moment she saw me, tears welled up in her eyes. “You’re finally back! Lena, I asked ChatGPT today and it said my gastritis has progressed into a stomach ulcer. I might not have much time left. “There’s this three thousand dollar dress I’ve wanted forever. Consider it compensation for neglecting me. Think of it as granting my final wish!” I let out a sigh and placed the order for her anyway. The instant I checked out the item, I caught the smug look in her eyes. She thought I was stupid. What she did not know was that I really could hear her stomach speaking. It had been telling me that it was turning cancerous.

My 20-year-old daughter was obese. She started gaining weight in middle school, and now she weighed 200 pounds. I worried about her health, so I prepared nutritious meals for her and encouraged her to exercise every day, but she didn't take the problem seriously. "I was born weighing 7 pounds. It's your fault for making me so fat when I was in your womb." For eight years, every time I urged her to lose weight, that was her reply. Just as I was losing hope and considering giving up, I received a FaceTime call from my daughter 10 years in the future. "Mom! Please help me one more time!" My daughter cried on the phone. "I now weigh 500 pounds. I can't even leave home, and I struggle to breathe every day. I feel so miserable!" My heart softened, and I spent $30,000 to send my daughter to a weight loss camp. However, in the camp, my daughter indulged herself and even started a food vlogging channel. "Eat as much as you want, drink as much as you want. Don't take life so seriously. We only have about 80 years to live, so enjoy your food!" I was completely disappointed and chose to respect her decision. My daughter from ten years later cried hysterically on the phone. "The doctor said I don't have long to live! Please stop feeding me!" But this time, the FaceTime call was made to my daughter's phone.

Yuna Cooper was left mentally impaired after saving my life, so I gave up my chance to return home and remained in the mission world to care for her. But in my third year there, she suddenly ran me down with her car. Then, taking Joshua Cook’s hand, she told me, “I’ve finally waited for this day. Once you’re dead, Joshua and I can take your place as the one chosen by the system and live forever.” Only then did I realize she had been pretending all along, plotting to steal the system from me. What she did not know was that I had been enduring the system’s punishments this entire time. I said to the system, “There are two new hosts willing to take my place. Can I leave now?”

The apocalypse hits, and my entire family awakens superpowers, except me. I'm a total dud. What they don't realize is that I'm actually the family's Wi-Fi hotspot for powers. They're only superpowered as long as they stay within 500 yards of me. So, I stick to them like glue, and they cherish their one "powerless" family member like gold. Then my brother, Dylan Brewer, rescues a woman from a zombie horde who looks identical to Mom. That's when I learn I'm the fake heiress who has been swapped at birth. Once she joins the family, she awakens a spatial ability that lets her hoard endless supplies. During a supply run, she suddenly yanks me out of the safety circle and shoves me toward a supermarket packed with zombies. "You freeloading dud! Everyone's risking their lives! What gives you the right to hide behind us and leech off our hard work?" I break free from her grip and try to explain. "I can't go! If I die, your powers will—" Before I can say "disappear", a cold gun barrel presses against my forehead.

Although I'm the ace translator of my company, I let the receptionist, Janice Cartman, take charge of a translation project that's worth over 100 million dollars of my own volition. In my past life, Janice is the childhood friend of my boyfriend, Nicholas Sanders, who has dropped out of middle school. Yet, she suddenly masters eight languages overnight. Not only that, but she claims that she simply taught herself the languages. I need to research the technical terms beforehand every time I take on a translation project, but Janice is able to easily translate anything that she hears on the spot with 100% accuracy. Everyone praises Janice for being a translation genius while calling me a worthless loser in private. Janice stops me when I'm about to go on stage to fulfill my duties as the translator for the 100-million-dollar project. I've spent the last two weeks preparing for it, sacrificing sleep to ensure that I'm completely ready. "This isn't the time for you to show off, Giselle. This project will determine whether the company will become publicly listed. Your foundation isn't as good as mine, so I'll take your place!" Nicholas and my other colleagues fully support Janice's suggestion. I do everything I can to change their minds, but in the end, I'm still forcefully replaced. Janice's translations are flawless. She's lauded as the hero of the company. Meanwhile, I'm demoted to a cleaning lady under the pretext that my skills are lacking. I don't understand. I've spent the last decade working myself to the bone to hone my skills, yet I still lose to Janice, who becomes a translation genius overnight. In a daze, I accidentally lose my footing and drown to death. Seconds before I breathe my last breath, I find out that Janice's translations are a hoax. She simply repeats the words that she hears in my heart. When I open my eyes again, I realize that I've been transported back to the day when Janice claims that she's a translation genius who knows eight languages. This time, I don't stay up all night to prepare my translation materials. Instead, I start memorizing a funeral speech!