Feel-Good Story Imagination Short Stories & Campus Beauty Campus Novels

I was reborn one month before the forensic certification exam. This time, I spent my days drinking and clubbing instead of slaving away studying, for the class belle had bound me to an Achievement Transfer System in my previous life. We had prepared for the forensic certification together, and I'd burned the midnight oil while she slacked off and partied. Yet, I scored a zero and failed, while she got exactly what she wanted and passed when the results were out. The entire class praised the class belle for her talent and mocked me, saying a nobody like me could never rise above my station. Unwilling to accept it, I demanded a review of the exam. The results showed that every single one of my answers was wrong, while hers were all correct. I searched through everything from my past experiments, only to find that every certificate bore the class belle's name. The class belle then put on an innocent front and accused me of misconduct, declaring imperiously, "Dakota Saunders, you've always pretended to be hardworking in front of others. I just didn't expect you to lie for so long that you started believing it yourself! "And now you've even stolen my certificates! You're disgusting. A thief like you belongs in the sewers, not here!" I was scorned by everyone and expelled from the academy. In the end, unable to bear the blow, I jumped to my death. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to one month before the forensic certification exam.

As the male lead, Henry Johnston, forces himself on me, a row of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Henry is about to misunderstand and think Aria drugged him! The angst is about to begin!" "I'm thrilled just thinking about Henry regretting dearly after Aria dies!" "Keep up the act, Henry. After she dies, you'll be hugging her corpse and crying every day." That is when I realize that I am the tragic female lead in a story where I am destined to be tormented until I die. The readers treat my death as a highlight to push the plot forward. They are counting down to my death. As I look at Henry, who is panting on top of me, anger courses through me. I grab a table lamp and smash it into him, killing him on the spot. Who says that the one who dies in a toxic romance story must always be the female lead?

During orientation training, the class belle, everyone’s favorite, led the entire class to protest against the orientation leader. The orientation leader threatened to make us run as punishment, but she took on everyone’s training load by herself. But in reality, she shifted all the exhaustion onto me. She ran 30 miles while carrying weights without batting an eye. Then, she told the orientation leader that she was willing to take on all the class’s remaining orientation training duties by herself. From that point on, she became the darling of the entire class. Meanwhile, I was exhausted beyond measure, was frequently hospitalized, and was late to training. It affected our class’s honor roll standing. I got yelled at by the whole class. When I explained the situation to everyone, they dismissed me as a nutcase. “You’ve only been in training for a few days! How could you be this exhausted? I think you’re just faking it.” “Are you just jealous that Eira Yard is in better shape than you, looks better than you, and is even more popular than you?” In utter despair, I confronted Eira, but she casually changed into her orientation training uniform. “Please step aside. I’m going to run the final weighted cross-country race on behalf of the entire school. I don’t have time to mess around with you.” Once she was done with the run in the 104-degree heat, her expression remained cool and collected. I, on the other hand, felt as if my limbs had been severed. My organs failed, and I died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the first day of orientation training. This time, I beat everyone to it and reported to the orientation leader. “I’ll run for the whole class.”

Snowie Walton, the belle of the class, claimed she could hear my thoughts. When a classmate gained weight from hormone medications, she pointed at me and shouted, "Why did you call Eva a disgusting fat pig? Do you think you'll never be ill in your life?" The others believed her right away. They surrounded me, relentlessly demanding that I apologize publicly. From that day onward, I was isolated by the entire class. Later, during a lesson, the teacher mentioned her family. Snowie suddenly turned on me again. "What do you mean that our teacher only got this job through connections and that she has no capabilities at all? Show some respect!" I desperately explained that I had never thought such things, but the teacher didn't believe me. Not only was I written up for disciplinary action, but my scholarship was also revoked. Then, confidential documents from the school labs were stolen. Once again, Snowie blamed me. "How could you sell those files to foreigners and say that they were only worth a hundred thousand?" I was arrested by the police and convicted of leaking state secrets. I was sentenced to life imprisonment. In the end, I died in prison, consumed by depression. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very day Snowie accused me of insulting Eva. By this time, she didn't know that I had uncovered her secret behind her so-called ability to hear my thoughts.

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?"

After transmigrating through three novels in a row, the hardest thing I ever suffer through is drinking iced long black. But when I open my eyes again, I somehow become the pathetic simp side character in a trashy romance novel. Just as I debate whether to file a complaint against the system, the trembling system hurriedly explains something to me. Although this is a trashy romance novel, it is also an unfinished abandoned novel. I ask, "So you're saying I decide how the story develops?" The system replied, "Yes. Everything is completely under your control." Satisfied, I lazily stretch and begin checking the original Jacob's background. He has a trillionaire father and a billionaire mother. On top of that, he has seven rich and beautiful older sisters. With such a ridiculously overpowered setup, how can he go around simping for a broke college girl with no money? What a complete waste!

Sharon Deleon, the campus belle, has secretly stuffed a folded piece of paper into my pencil case five minutes before the start of the postgraduate admission exam. A series of comments streak across my vision. "The paper is filled with answers to the exam questions! Sharon has already lodged a report to the teachers. The school proctor will be here soon. Once that paper is found in Cassandra's pencil case, her admission recommendation will be terminated immediately!" "Hmph! This is all that nerd's fault for standing in Sharon's way to success! The proctor is Sharon's uncle, after all! Cassandra's doomed today!" The next thing I know, the proctor strides into the classroom angrily. He makes a beeline to my seat right away. "Someone has reported you for cheating. Dump out the contents in your pencil case right now!" I just do what I'm told with a blank look. There are only a few pens in sight. The folded piece of paper, however, isn't there. Sharon widens her eyes in shock. "How could this be? But I'm very sure that I—" Before she can finish speaking, a folded piece of paper containing the answers falls out of her pocket. Everyone doesn't know that I'm capable of reflecting misfortune by nature. Whoever sabotages me will get a dose of their own medicine instead.