Cerita Pendek Male POV Imagination & Novel Face Slapping

I was diagnosed with stage-two stomach cancer. A lie from my wife had caused me to miss the best window for treatment. “You’re saying I was diagnosed with early-stage cancer six months ago, and my wife knew about it?” The doctor pulled up my old test results and turned the monitor toward me. “We repeatedly told your wife that early-stage cancer has a very high cure rate. One of our physician assistants even called to follow up. She told us you’d already started treatment at another hospital.” I felt as though the ground had vanished beneath my feet. Six months ago, my wife had assured me that my physical exam showed nothing wrong. The doctor looked at me sympathetically. “Fortunately, it hasn’t progressed to the final stage yet. With aggressive treatment, you still have a chance.” I stumbled out of the hospital in a daze. Then I suddenly remembered the strange charm I’d stumbled upon by chance. Could cancer be transferred, too?

An overpass in Winfeld that's still under construction ends up collapsing, leading to the deaths of many. Family members of the victims are up in arms, demanding that the person in charge pay the price for the incident. As the quality assurance inspector, I'm brought to court. However, I am just an intern. The real perpetrators are out clinking glasses, celebrating a clean getaway and the fact that they have a new scapegoat. Out of nowhere, the court introduces a new trial system that involves the extraction of memories directly from one's mind. In the middle of this major incident, a terrifying truth emerges. Everything goes all the way back to my university days…

On the first day of college, I became Bellingham University's most infamous 'serial dumpee'. Whether it was the graceful upperclassman or the cold, stunning campus queen, every girl who went on a single date with me would, without fail, leave me for my roommate Blake Ramsey by the very next day. Blake rocketed to the top as every girl's golden boy. He juggled his growing roster of admirers like a pro. Every day, he shoved another stack of curated dating profiles into my hands. "Buddy, don't let one bad apple scare you off. The next one will be even sweeter. You have to keep chasing true love!" I believed him and set my sights on an adorable freshman, but she broke up with me without a second thought to be with Blake. Just as despair was about to swallow me whole, a stream of floating comments appeared before my eyes. [The male lead is incredible. He's stolen so many women! I've always hated that so-called villain. Some poor kid from the countryside, and he thinks all these women would fall for him?] [I wish I had the male lead's Affection Transfer System. Then my ex-girlfriend wouldn't have been snatched away by that guy!] [I can't wait to see who the next female lead is. I'm just sitting here waiting for the male lead to steal her too!] So that was it. This whole time, I had been doing the grunt work for someone else's harem for free!

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."

I had died for a year and was pushed to cross the River of Souls 99,999 times, but I could not do so as no one had given me a proper burial. The netherworld forced me to return to the mortal world for 48 hours to find someone to bury me, or my soul would vanish after 48 hours. They even started a livestream to make some income for themselves. On the first day of my return, my ex-girlfriend and the real heir of the family who hated me were about to get married. Netizens predicted that I would be malicious enough to crash the wedding for revenge, but all I did was sit in a small restaurant and order myself a delicious burger. While waiting for my food, the first sentence I said to the camera was, "I will vanish completely from this world after 48 hours."

When the extreme-heat apocalypse arrived, surface temperatures reached 158°F, and the first group of people began moving to Frostpoint Base. As a scientist, my wife had two spots to bring family members with her. Everyone thought she would take me without hesitation. But in the end, she put the name of her graduate student on the application. "He's my student, and he doesn't have his parents with him. I can't bear to leave him alone in a place this hot." She submitted the application without a second thought. Her next words chilled me to the bone. "Ethan, you're different. You've been tough since you were a kid. I know you can survive until the second group is evacuated." I forced a bitter smile and said nothing. That night, as I watched the temperature continue to rise, I calmly made a phone call. "You once told me you would grant me one wish, no matter what it was. Does that promise still stand?"

On the day I married the most feared woman in the underworld, words suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Marry her and you're dead! She's actually in love with your stepfather. This whole thing is a trap to make him swoop in and steal the bride! [Run now while you still can. Otherwise, she'll auction off your virginity tonight in front of everyone and let her rich girlfriends have their turn with you! [Three days from now, after she's had you beaten within an inch of your life, she'll tell everyone you died of a sudden illness and dump your body in the outskirts for the wolves!] Last time around, I bolted the moment I saw those messages. That was a mistake. I got grabbed by Yvette Sinclair's enemies and brutalized. Meanwhile, my stepfather took my place in the wedding car and became the crime boss's pampered husband. After narrowly escaping death and finally making it home, he was already standing in the doorway with tears in his eyes. "I know you hate me," he said, "but why did you knock me out and throw me into another woman's bed?" My mother didn't even let me explain. She said I had humiliated the family, and she threw me out without a second thought. Told everyone she'd never had a son like me. My sister, the one who had always doted on me, stood there and watched me burn alive. Then she locked the door and walked away. It wasn't until after I died that I found out the truth. My stepfather had written those messages himself. Then I opened my eyes again, and I was back to the day of the wedding. The same words were already floating in front of me. I watched my stepfather fuss over my tie with a warm, satisfied look on his face. I grabbed the kettle and poured boiling water all over him. This time, I was going to give him a taste of his own medicine!

On New Year's Eve, my cousin and I went to the supermarket to stock up for the holiday when a cold wave hit out of nowhere. The temperature plummeted dozens of degrees, and the world plunged into an ice-cold apocalypse. In the blink of an eye, people froze solid into ice sculptures. I scrambled to grab winter coats and whatever supplies I could, but my cousin just sat there playing video games. He even posted his pentakill on social media to brag about it. I went through hell to snag him a down jacket, and he still insisted he was not afraid of the cold. "I'm a real man. You think a little cold scares me?" He refused to eat the compressed biscuits. He even used our scarce bottled water to wash his limited-edition sneakers, then threw a fit demanding freshly pan-seared steak. "It's called having standards, look it up. Even if I die, I'm dying tough and with style!" I scoffed. Since he wanted to die tough, he could go right ahead and freeze into an ice sculpture. Ice sculptures were plenty tough.

I drove rideshare for five years to support my girlfriend. Then a car put me in the hospital, and she pointed at me and said: "We're just friends." Overseas, hanging off her rich new boyfriend, she looked down at me and said, "Blake didn't mean to hit you. Quit while you're ahead, take the money, and get lost." I smiled, grabbed him by the hair, and put his head into the wall. After they deported me, the Ride-to-Real-Estate System woke up in my head. A few years later I was the richest man in the world, living off rent, and the gold digger came crawling back. "You got even more handsome." My new little sister laughed out loud. "Honestly, I'm jealous of her complexion. She lays it on so thick."

My roommate, a poor student I sponsor, is obsessed with making every first occasion memorable. There is always another milestone to celebrate. At our first college class dinner, he orders ten bottles of expensive imported liquor. When the $150,000 bill arrives, I'm stunned. I ask why he did it without consulting me. He pouts. "I just wanted everyone to have an unforgettable memory. I care too much about making things special. "Please don't be angry, Mr. Fairchild. I'll work my whole life to pay off the debt. I won't drag you into it." Our classmates accuse me of making a scene over nothing. To salvage my reputation, I reluctantly pay the bill. Then a video of him kneeling and begging forgiveness appears on the campus forum. Suddenly, I'm the vicious rich kid who bullies the poor. When I ask him to clear things up, his answer is simple: "That depends on how you behave." From then on, he uses every new "first" as an excuse to make me pay. In just one month, I spend almost $1.5 million on him. It's still not enough. He livestreams an accusation that I've been tormenting him. "Mr. Fairchild says poor students are beneath him! He says we don't deserve to celebrate anything!" The internet turns against me. My university expels me. My family disowns me. I die a miserable death by the roadside. He, meanwhile, convinces my guilt-ridden parents to adopt him and inherits everything that should have been mine. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day my roommate suggests the class dinner.

After seven years together, Veronica Monroe canceled our wedding for the fifty-second time. A wall of comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Here we go again. Don’t tell me the male lead is still thinking about getting back together with her!] My heart jolted. I couldn’t believe they actually knew. [If this were a normal person, he would’ve found someone else to marry by now!] [My blood pressure is through the roof. Go ask Veronica’s biggest rival if she’ll marry you!] Could I really do that? Uneasy and hesitant, I walked up to Veronica’s biggest rival, Meredith Rodgers, and quietly asked, “Would you marry me right now?” The entire room erupted. The guests all thought I’d lost my mind. But she simply curved her lips into a smile. “Of course I will.” [The male lead finally grew a backbone! Everyone, look!] [Oh my God, if Veronica finds out, she’s going to be furious!]

My wealthy family could hear every thought in my head. On my first day home, they sent their adopted son a forty-thousand-dollar allowance. Me? They sent thirty bucks. I grumbled to myself, 'Is this a joke? Thirty dollars? I make more than that tightening bolts at the plant.' They looked down their noses at me, sneering, waiting for me to come crawling to them. Then they heard what I thought next. 'A top Healy City family's monthly allowance for both its sons adds up to a measly 40,030 dollars? That wouldn't even buy a square yard of insulation. 'What family fortune is there to even fight over? 'The plant still hasn't hit this year's KPI of thirty rockets. Instead of wasting time on rich-family power games, I could be building a few more rockets to hold off the aliens.'

My best friend, Mason Lodge, and I transmigrate into a novel together. On top of that, we even marry into the same wealthy family, known as the Grants. Unfortunately, Stella and Tanya Grant's mutual first love, Eric Stewart, returns to the country on the day after our transmigration. Everyone keeps advising us to just get our checks and dump the sisters. But Mason and I just glance at each other with smiles on our faces. "Are things really that bad overseas to the point that he comes running back to the country as soon as he hears about the Grant sisters' marriages?" "Just listen to how sickly sweet his voice is! Isn't he worried that he might contract diabetes for real?" As soon as our words fall, I see Stella looking at me in disgust. Meanwhile, Tanya glares at Mason angrily. Honestly speaking, there's no way a pretentious bastard like Eric can ever win against Mason and me, who are known for seeing through all the facades that a typical pretentious bastard can ever put on.

After failing my 99th target-conquest mission, I stand in the rain, drenched in hopelessness. "Mission failed. Punishment—death." Those four words have haunted me for five whole years. For the first three years, I've pushed my conquest progress to 99%. Everything changed when Aurora Lowe's first love, Joe Bannerman, returned from abroad. Now, my conquest progress has plunged back to 30%. I'm so done. I've searched for her grandmother's keepsake in the pouring rain, only to find Aurora tending to his twisted ankle in the hospital. Honestly, I've made peace with the thought of death at this point. "System, I quit my mission," I mutter calmly. A new message appears on the system interface. "Mission abandoned. Conquest progress will decrease by 1% each day. Once it reaches 0%, the mission will be deemed a failure. Failure penalty—execution of target." I freeze. Hold on, wait a second—who's being executed here?

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've just booked a restaurant for my seventh wedding anniversary with my wife, Melanie Rowland, when several lines of text suddenly appear across my vision. "Would you like to take part in a loyalty test? "We'll randomly give your wife a system. If she tells you about it, you win, and the two of you will receive one million dollars." After seven years of marriage, I have no doubt Melanie loves me. As far as I'm concerned, that million dollars is already in the bag. Still, I'm curious enough to ask one question. "What if we lose?" "If you lose, it proves your marriage has failed. In return, you'll receive a mystery prize big enough to let you start your life over. "The price of participating is allowing people from another dimension to watch you. Choose carefully." I couldn't care less about the mystery prize. I'm already planning to use the million dollars to buy Melanie the condo she's had her eye on for ages. After I agree to join the game, I hurry home. The moment I walk in, I catch a flash of panic on Melanie's face. She brushes me off with a few vague excuses and hurries into the study. Through the closed door, I hear her talking to Hayden Locke, the guy she grew up with. "Hayden, I just got an apocalypse system. It says the end of the world is coming. I'm going to find somewhere to build a safe house, and I promise I'll keep you safe. Don't worry. I won't tell Alex a word. "When the world ends, it'll be you and me together." I freeze. Her apocalypse system is fake, but the countdown to my mystery prize has probably already begun.

The day I took over the Ashford family, a man from another world took over my body. He used my identity as head of the Ashford family to fawn over my three adoptive sisters and devote himself to winning them over. "The original owner of this body was far too cold-hearted. A thoughtful man like me, who knows how to treat women well, is the one who can win their hearts." But his efforts ended with my three adoptive sisters pushing him into the ocean after the nanny’s son shed a few tears. When I opened my eyes again, my two sisters were already storming in to accuse me. "Stop pretending. You knew Cade is afraid of water, yet you still pushed him into the pool.” "You only swallowed a few mouthfuls of water. Don’t think this little pity act will win you any sympathy!" "Kneel down and apologize to Cade right now." "Smack!" I slapped them both across the face. Then I wiped my hands. "When did the people living under my roof start thinking they could challenge me? The Blackridge mining project needs workers. You two will do."