Plot Twists Imagination-Kurzgeschichten & Male POV System-Kurzromane

In the third year after my death, the one who remained faithfully by my wife's side was still the bionic robot I had painstakingly designed. It looked exactly like me and carried within it every detail of my mannerisms, speech, and habits. The only difference was that it never lost its temper with her. Because of that, my wife never sensed anything amiss. Yet each night, she brought home a different man, deliberately testing "me," desperate to see the wild jealousy and rage I once wore so vividly. Then, one day, her childhood sweetheart and first love, shoved "me" off the balcony. It was only then, in her horror, that my wife realized… "I" didn't bleed.

On the day of our ninth wedding anniversary, I sat in the empty living room and summoned the system I had not contacted in ages. "System, help me submit an application. I've decided to leave this world." The cold, mechanical voice came through, and somehow it sounded comforting. "Understood, Harry. Your departure application has been received. The space-time corridor is being constructed. I will come to retrieve you in one week." I hummed quietly and stared at my phone screen. A family photo of three stared back. In the photo, I stood in the center holding an adorable little girl. A beautiful woman stood beside me, kissing my cheek.

"Mr. Clarke, can you help me get rid of the tattoo on my butt?" The young man asks me for help with red-rimmed eyes. A lot of people have specifically requested me to tattoo something on their body. Honestly, this is the first time I've received a request to remove a tattoo from one's butt. He grits his teeth, as though he has finally made up his mind. "I just found out that my girlfriend has a husband! I want to break up with her, so I must get rid of the tattoo!" I nod in response. "Strip down and let me see the area and the mass covered." The man hesitates for a moment before turning his back on me and slowly taking off his pants. As soon as his right buttcheek is revealed, I feel my breath getting hitched in my throat. My wife, Annie Sylvester's face is actually tattooed on that area.

I had special luck that would cause others to lose their money. If anyone tried to scam my money from me, they would suffer financial loss. When I was in elementary school, a female classmate stole five dollars from me to buy a snack. The next day, her father suffered a fifty-thousand-dollar loss in his business deal. When I was in high school, my homeroom teacher withheld my prize money. The next day, his wife got into a pyramid scheme, and he lost his house because of it. After I started working, I encountered my extremely snobbish boss, Fiona Anderson. I submitted a claim for five thousand dollars, which I had paid in advance for a company event. However, she refused to approve the claim for three months. As for the rich intern who drove a luxury car, she would immediately approve his claims with a huge smile on her face, even though he would submit fake receipts. I urgently needed to pay my credit card bill, so I went to talk to her. Fiona pointed at me and snorted. “Poor men like you always try to covet the company’s money! “How dare you ask me for money? You must be out of your mind!”

I'm the primary surgeon of the nation's biggest medical malpractice case. Apparently, I've screwed up intentionally in a joint surgery that leads to the instant deaths of five patients. My wife, Wanda Johnson's mother is one of them. The medical world purges my name immediately. The Internet demands that I pay the price with my own life. The patients' families kneel before the court with a petition. With tears running down my cheeks, they plead to the court to sentence me to death. In order to ease the public outrage, the court decides to euthanize me. The head of the investigative team of the health department wants to activate Project Nightingale. With the power of AI, the truth of what happened in the surgery will be re-enacted. But Wanda, who also works as a police officer, shoots that idea down. "There's no need for that. Do you actually want the patients' families to witness how their loved ones die again? The youngest patient is just an eight-year-old, you know! Let's just euthanize him!"

In the seventh year of marrying into the Dawson family, Amanda Dawson's childhood friend, Leroy Blanchard, has returned from overseas. Leroy is very outgoing and handsome, not to mention he's extremely capable, too. Soon, he becomes the apple of everyone's eye. Even my father-in-law, who has never liked me, to begin with, has nothing but praises for Leroy. On Leroy's birthday, Amanda spends a huge amount of money in organizing his birthday party before declaring her love for him in a high-profile manner. The entire city is waiting to watch me, the legally-wedded husband, embarrass myself just so I can kick up a huge fuss over the whole thing. But I merely smile faintly before packing my things and getting ready to leave. I've been in this world for seven years. Finally, I'm about to finish acting out all of my scenes as the lovesick male supporting lead.

I was always sleepy when I was working. If I were working an eight-hour shift, I would sleep the entire shift away. Initially, I thought that I was too tired. My boss only fined me because I was the top sales performer. It was not until I got caught dozing off for the 38th time last month that I realized something was wrong. I scheduled a medical appointment. However, on the way to the hospital, I died from a car accident. When I opened my eyes again, I realized I had returned to the day the new male colleague first joined us. In the past, I had also started to suffer from lethargy on the same day. I suspected he had something to do with my symptoms. Hence, I started to stalk him in secret. As expected, during lunch time, I caught him and my girlfriend conspiring against me. “Once I plant this sleepy bug on Nick, you can transfer your sleepiness to him.” Justin Smith wrapped his arm around my girlfriend Heather Reid’s waist. He said in a fawning tone, “Heather, you’re the best. Once Nick gets fired for oversleeping, I can take his position!” I sneered when I saw them acting intimately. They did not know that I had returned to the past!

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!

To stay by the side of award-winning actress Victoria Quinn, I gave up the system's one-billion-dollar cash reward. I also drained every last one of my luck points to make her paralyzed legs heal. The price was that my life became bound to her loyalty. If she ever betrayed me, emotionally or physically, my soul would be ripped from my body and erased completely. At the moment of binding, I hesitated. But when I looked into her eyes and saw the depth of her love, I believed her. I believed her when she said, "Out of all the people in the world, I only want you." So I chose to become the man who stood silently behind her, giving everything without complaint, and I pressed confirm. For seven years, we loved each other as deeply as we had in the beginning. Hand in hand, we weathered every storm together. Until our wedding anniversary. I was in the kitchen making her favorite soup when I suddenly coughed violently and spat out a large pool of black blood. Then I looked down and saw my fingers slowly turning transparent, so faint that I could no longer even touch the glass in front of me. At the same time, a piercing alarm rang through my mind. "Warning. Bound target's love value has fallen below the critical threshold. Erasure protocol activated..."

Ever since I was born, my parents bound me to a Pain Transfer System. My body was covered in scars. My older brother, Dylan Jeater, had albinism and Hydroa Vacciniforme. His condition was so severe that he could not be exposed to any light. Doctors determined that he would only live to be sixteen years old. However, Dylan had always been playful. He often snuck outside. Eventually, his body was covered in sores. My father, Robert Jeater, worked day and night to earn money. He finally bought two Pain Transfer System wristbands at a high price for Dylan and me. For six years, the pain Dylan felt from every sun exposure had been transferred to me. My mother, May Jeater, always held me gently and treated my wounds. She said, “Chester, I’m sorry. I just want Dylan to be happy in the time he has left. I hope you understand.” On New Year’s Eve, my parents took Dylan out. It was very sunny that day. As soon as we left the house, my whole body broke out in blisters. I could not help but cry out in pain. Dylan tore off his wristband and broke down sobbing. “Does it hurt? Fine, if you think it hurts so much, then turn off the transfer! Let me just die of the pain! “I’ll only live up to sixteen anyway. I’m going to die sooner or later.” His body became severely sunburned, and he lost consciousness. Mom shoved me to the ground. “Dylan never complained once in all those years of pain! After only six years of it being passed to you, you’re already breaking down?! “He’s only going to live to be sixteen! Is it wrong to want him to be happy in his last few years?” Dad picked up Dylan. “I don’t want you getting hurt either, but the pain can only be transferred between biological brothers.” They then rushed him to the hospital. I picked up the wristband from the ground. A message popped up on the screen. [Do you want to transfer your remaining lifespan to the linked user?] Without any hesitation, I pressed confirm.

When the nurse pulled the IV needle out of the back of my hand, her gaze was filled with pity. “Mr. Young, the heart meant for your transplant was transferred at the last minute. It was sent to the VIP ward on the seventh floor. It’s a shame, but all your pre-operation prep has gone to waste.” Marcus Stewart was warded on the seventh floor. He was the frail young man my sister brought home. Ten minutes ago, Marcus suddenly had terrible chest pain. My usually strong mother burst into tears. My stoic father slammed the table in front of every expert in the hospital, then decided to give Marcus the heart I had been waiting three years for. It was supposed to save my life. I hurried to the end of the corridor, but the green operating light had already come on. Clutching the twisting pain in my chest, I leaned against the ice-cold wall and slid to the floor. There was no need to wait anymore. My heart failure was terminal. The doctor said I would not last the next few days. The mechanical voice sounded in my head. [Master, your vital signs are rapidly deteriorating. If you terminate this body and leave this world now, you still have a chance at a new life. Would you like to proceed?] I looked at the faint grey hue of death tinging my fingertips. “...Yes.”

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 father, Cameron Howard, and I are transported to an ancient world together. The system tells us that if we can each win over a target, we'll be able to return home. My mission is to win the heart of a ruthless princess, and Dad's mission is to conquer a hot-tempered queen. The princess breaks two of my ribs and ties me behind a horse that drags me for miles. The queen decides Dad isn't kneeling straight enough. So, she crushes his knees with iron tongs and forces burning charcoal into his mouth until he loses his voice. For three years, we live miserably. Just as the system announces "Mission failed", the princess standing before me suddenly smiles. She tears off the mask covering her face. The person underneath the mask is my wife, Abigail Finch. She walks over to the throne and pats the fierce queen on the shoulder. "Mom, haven't you had enough? Cameron and Oscar are almost dead from everything you've put them through." The queen removes her disguise and looks up. It's my mother, Elisha Sweeney. She claps her hands toward the officials filling the throne room. "Alright, everyone. You can get up now. That's a wrap." Dad and I exchange stunned looks. Mom gently squeezes my crippled hand and sighs. "Does it hurt, Oscar? You and your dad made Kenneth Ingram's life miserable every day. You even drove his son, Joel Ingram, into bankruptcy. You've suffered enough now. Consider the score settled." The officials throughout the court remove their wigs, revealing walkie-talkies and sweat-soaked T-shirts beneath their costumes. But none of them know that the transmigration is fake, but the system is real. In the final moments of our lives, Dad and I make a pact with the system. We offer up both of our souls as the sacrifice in exchange for a lifetime of wealth, peace, and happiness for them.

My brother had bonded with an Academic Prodigy System, and its mission was simple: get into Northbridge for graduate school. If he failed, the system would erase his intelligence and leave him permanently disabled. To save him, my parents told me, "Aaron, you're smart. You still have options, but your brother doesn't." So they secretly switched my guaranteed admission file and gave my place to him. My fiancee, Vivian Harkins, a professor at the university, personally helped him forge the records. She touched my face with the same tenderness she always used. "Aaron, everything has an optimal solution. Sacrificing one year of your time to protect this family is worth it." My brother held the admission letter with his own name on it and became the star of the celebration banquet. I stood in the corner and watched the system panel in front of me as the [Hope Value] hit zero. The cold voice in my head asked, [Host, you have reached the threshold for extreme injustice. Confirm activation of the death program?] I watched Vivian, with her own hands, fasten the pair of cuff links she had once promised me onto my brother's sleeve. I smiled, swallowed the taste of blood rising in my throat, and said, "Confirm." "Use my life to trade for the rest of theirs... beyond redemption."

After my body was taken over by a conqueror for five years, I finally got it back. Full of hope, I rushed to see the family I had missed so much. What I got instead were their cold and complicated expressions. My girlfriend even asked me directly, "Why did you come back?" I was deeply disappointed, but I still refused to believe that they had already given their hearts to the conqueror. In my despair, I made a deal with the System. "Please bring that conqueror back." My family happily welcomed his return. But they never knew the truth. The conqueror's real goal was to push them all into absolute ruin.

When the real son, Henry Sylvester, is finally brought back to the family, I, the non-biological child who's taken his place, am already prepared to pack my bags and leave. Instead of letting me go, Henry calls me up to the sixth-floor terrace of the villa and pushes me over the edge. "You've stolen my life for 18 years, Marcel. You should be grateful." I don't struggle. In fact, I deliberately fall headfirst. At that moment, I believe I'm destined to die, but I end up surviving. The doctors even call it a miracle. A fall from the sixth floor should've been fatal, yet I only suffered minor bone dislocations and no other serious injuries. When the Sylvester family asks why I jumped, I tell them the truth about Henry pushing me. Instead of believing me, my elder brother laughs in my face. He shields the meek and frightened-looking Henry from me and warns me not to slander his real brother. The Sylvester couple looks at me with nothing but disappointment. They're convinced I've brought this upon myself and even ask why I haven't chosen somewhere higher to jump from. Frankly, their suggestion makes sense. So, I go to the tenth floor, ready to jump and start my life over. Suddenly, a mechanical voice rings out in my head. "Marcel, this is your seventh attempt at suicide. Are you really going through with it?"

My lazy stepbrother, Derek Lane, suddenly becomes the hardest-working person in the village. He cuts weeds, carries buckets of manure, and works the fields. Nothing seems too difficult for him. But while he works, cuts suddenly appear on my hands. The carrying pole rubs my shoulders raw. Even the soles of my feet split open. I have no idea what kind of dark magic he uses, but every injury he suffers is somehow transferred onto me. After spending an entire day laboring under the blazing sun, he remains full of energy. Meanwhile, I collapse from heatstroke. I tell Dad to stop Derek from working in the fields. Instead of listening to me, Dad drags me to the village square and publicly lambasts me in front of all the villagers. He scolds, "You still think you're some spoiled boy who came from the city? Not only are you too lazy to work, but you're even spreading lies that Derek is using black magic!" From that day on, Derek works even harder. But at the same time, I can no longer work in the fields at all with my body covered in injuries. A week later, he's named the village's "Farmer of the Year". Thanks to that title, he earns the chance to head to the city and attend college. As for me, I collapse from exhaustion and die in the cornfield. Wild dogs feed on my remains. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the first day Derek is trying to steal my work points. There are 15 days left until the fall harvest. I have 15 days until I die in that cornfield. I snatch the carrying pole from Derek's hands and say, "I'll handle my own work."

I discover a helicopter in the estate three years after I'm transmigrated. My wife, Diana Snow, decides to drop the act after noticing my crippled legs. "Three years ago, you couldn't accept being my lover after I married Andrew," she says. "So, we trapped you here, tricking you into thinking that you had transmigrated. It seems that you've learned how to behave yourself after working as one of the household staff for three years." I have a hard time believing her words. The housekeeper of the estate tears her mask off and reveals her true identity—my sister, Beverly Graham. "Andrew's son is all grown up, so you can finally go home now, Connor," she says. "Your plan was absolutely flawless, Elise!" I slowly turn my head. The estate's doctor is smiling at me. "You were right the first time. I'm actually your childhood sweetheart, Elise Jefferson. I came up with this plan because I was worried that you would harass Andrew." I believe that I have been transmigrated for the past three years. I am beaten, trafficked, and tormented by countless people before Diana buys me and forces me to slave away in her estate. My legs are crippled, and I'm blind in one eye. In the beginning, I cry all day and all night about wanting to go home. Eventually, I become numb to my terrible life. It turns out that I didn't actually transmigrate. I suffer a complete mental breakdown. Seconds before I take my own life, strange words suddenly appear in my vision. "Congratulations to the male lead of this AI-written tragedy. Remaining time before you turn into a real person: Two days. "48:00:00. "47:59:59."

After completing my system mission, I give up the massive reward and choose to stay in this world because I have a happy, loving family. My sister, Naomi Sullivan, is a world-renowned genius scientist, and every one of her discoveries bears my name. My mother, Gloria Lynch, heads a financial empire that controls the global economy, and she transfers every share she owns into my name. And my father, Arnold Sullivan, is an action star. He's a legendary screen icon, but he retires to watch me grow up. I'm the golden child everyone envies until Daniel Sullivan, their biological son, shows up at our door. Overnight, their love for me vanishes, and I become the outsider who stole the rightful heir's place in the family. Daniel stages a fall down the stairs, and Dad breaks my ribs to make me pay. I take a single bite of Daniel's leftover cake because I'm starving, but Mom locks me in the basement with an attack dog for three days. Then, she has a gold cake made just to cheer him up. All it takes is one offhand complaint that his chest feels tight, and Naomi removes my heart to give it to him, replacing it with an artificial one. "It's just a heart. You're strong enough to handle it. Daniel needs it more than you do." Naomi stands nearby with a tablet in hand, coldly logging the results. "Don't worry. Artificial heart technology is already well established. The survival rate is excellent in theory. You won't die." After my soul leaves my body, I watch Daniel casually toss my heart into the trash. Then, the long-silent system finally awakens. "Clifford, would you like to take back everything you bestowed upon them in exchange for a chance to be revived? This includes your mother's fortune, your father's extraordinary physical gifts, and your sister's incredible mind."

I had always been obedient. Whatever people told me to do, I did. On the day the king and queen brought me back to the palace, my adopted brother leaned close and sneered, "How did it feel to spend three months as a gutter rat? If you have any sense, roll even farther away this time." I nodded, turned, and ran straight toward the edge of a towering cliff. My father and mother were terrified. They barely managed to drag me back, their faces drained of color. When my elder sister saw it, she grabbed my collar and said coldly, "Attention-seeking trash. If being crown prince embarrasses you this much, you might as well die." I said nothing. I grabbed a vial of poison and poured it down my throat. Blood burst from my mouth and nose. My sister froze on the spot, then scrambled out to call the physicians, looking at me like I was a monster. Not long after that, my adopted brother pretended to fall ill, and my sister held a knife to my throat, forcing me to donate blood for him. Before she could finish speaking, I followed the force of her blade and cut my own throat. The moment my parents pushed open the door, blood sprayed across their faces. The room went silent for one stunned instant before screams exploded everywhere. Amid the chaos, I weakly raised my head and looked at the transparent panel floating in the air. The number on it flickered again and again before stopping at 99. They did not know that as long as I obeyed one final time, I could complete the entire storyline for a cannon fodder character in a tragic novel. Then I could leave this world forever and return to my real home.