Cerita Pendek & Novel Male POV System

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.

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."

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!"

"How can you say that about me, Nathan? I never had a kid!" Aaron Fuller protests. My wife, Jenny Green, stands protectively in front of him. "That's enough! You can't slander Aaron just because you're jealous of him. Just you wait, Nathan. I haven't settled the score with you for calling Aaron this afternoon and insulting him!"

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 final day of our graduation trip, an extreme heat wave struck without warning. I was unfortunate enough to suffer heat exhaustion, but my girlfriend, Claire Whitmore, gave all the electrolyte water to her male best friend, Alex Sterling. “You’re usually in good health, and you know first aid. Just drink some bottled water and take a break. “But Alex is different. He’s always been physically weak. If he doesn’t replenish his electrolytes, something could go wrong.” Too dizzy to argue, I had no choice but to ask the other members of our group for help. Instead, they rolled their eyes at me. “Daniel Hayes, there’s a limit to how jealous you can get.” “Claire is just taking extra care of someone who’s sick. You’re a grown man. Do you really have to act like you’re dying?” When the group continued ahead, Claire frowned at me sitting on the ground. “Do you really have to ruin everyone’s mood right now? “Fine. Stay here and think about what you’ve done. When you realize your mistake, catch up with us yourself.” What she didn’t know was that I had already begun showing symptoms of heatstroke. And she certainly didn’t know that the moment she left, a system notification echoed inside my mind. [Host’s life is in critical danger. Would you like to leave this world?] I calmly closed my eyes. “I accept.”

To support my wife, Natalie Strickland, in her work, I stayed behind in our first-floor apartment during the hurricane, caring for our son, Tyler, as he burned with a high fever. But as the director of the neighborhood committee, Natalie gave our family's last remaining life buoy to her childhood friend, Hayden Walker, on the tenth floor. When I confronted her about how unfair it was, she snapped at me over the phone. "Emerson, you're my husband. You should put the bigger picture first. Our family has to set an example. "Hayden's situation is different. He's raising his daughter alone, and she has asthma. Both professionally and personally, they have to be our priority." Once again, I let her convince me with her talk about the greater good. Then the floodwaters swallowed the first floor. Holding my barely breathing son in my arms, I frantically called the emergency command center. The dispatcher apologized before delivering the news, "Sir, Director Strickland listed Mr. Hayden Walker and his daughter in the first evacuation group. You and your son were assigned to the final group." I looked down at my son as the last traces of breath faded from his tiny body. My heart filled with despair. "System, I accept your offer to leave this world with my son." 'Natalie, Tyler and I will never need you to save us again.'

At our first anniversary celebration, my wife publicly announced that she was divorcing me to marry her true love. My past mission targets coldly watched me, thinking I would cause a ruckus and trouble Ivan Lowe like I always had. However, I merely walked over to a nearby lake and jumped into it. Unbeknownst to them, Serena Gale was my very last mission target. If I failed, I was supposed to go home. So, why did they only begin to regret their choices after I finally died?

I've chosen to participate in a death game. As long as I can escape from the murderer's killing spree in ten time loops, I'll be able to win at least 100 billion dollars. In the first loop, I have my apartment refurbished into a bank vault. Still, the killer is able to bust down my front door. In the second loop, I hide in the ceiling crawlspace. Yet, the killer is quick to locate me immediately, as though he knew where I was, to begin with. In the third loop, I finally realize that something's definitely fishy…

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.”

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."

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!

After getting back together with Tabitha Stark for the fifth time, she sets three rules for me to follow. Rule number one: Whenever I see Jordan Corke, I need to greet him respectfully. Rule number two: I need to have my blood drawn every day, for it's a necessary catalyst in Jordan's medication. Rule number three: I can no longer bond with my biological son, Anthony Fordham. I nod immediately instead of nitpicking every single detail as I did before. Whenever I see Jordan, I'll always greet him humbly and wait for him to leave. Whenever I see Anthony, I'll always take an alternate route to avoid him. Even when Tabitha finds out that she's pregnant and intends to get rid of the unborn baby, I can deliver her the miscarriage-inducing medicine without a falter in my expression. Her face contorted in disbelief, Tabitha smacks the bowl off my hands before roaring at me, "Have you gone nuts, Hugo Fordham? Since when have you become like this? "Haven't you always wanted a child with me again? How dare you agree that I go through the miscarriage right now! Tell me why!" I can't be bothered to answer her questions. At the same time, the system's voice grows louder in my mind. [Congratulations on completing all of the main quests as the villain. Please perish three days later. Your rewards will be issued to you shortly after that.]

On Christmas Eve, my wife, Abigail Balmer, publicly announced her relationship with her forty-ninth boy toy. [My forever love, @Dwayne Porter.] [My forever love, @Abigail Balmer.] Then she turned to comfort me. "He just lost a dare game, that's all. Don't take it to heart." Everyone mocked me as the man who'd married into money, too spineless to fight back. But I never made a scene. What they didn't know was that I'd struck a deal with the System. Every time Abigail was unfaithful, one year of her lifespan would transfer to me. By my count, of the eighty years she should have lived, she now had exactly one left. All I had to do was survive until the New Year, and she'd meet her natural end. And I would walk away with our three children and inherit the Balmer family's trillion-dollar fortune.

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."

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!

I was attending my daughter Wendy's autumn camp when I overheard her whispering to her best friend, "Don't be picky with your food, or Ms. Adams will kill you. That's why she killed Carl." Shocked, I scooped her up in my arms and ran to Carl's mother. However, she pointed at a healthy Carl who was hopping around, grinning, "What? But Carl is no longer a fussy eater. He eats everything I cook these days!" Relieved, I was about to turn and scold my daughter when she hissed, "That's not Carl! Carl is allergic to shrimp!"

After I developed transient amnesia, fragments of my memories would come back to me every day. But after a month, I would lose part of my memory again. The doctor said my condition would shorten my life and that there was no cure. Devastated, I went to my parents, ready to tell them I was giving up on treatment. Instead, I overheard my family talking inside the room. "His memories are returning! We have to increase the dosage before he remembers everything!" My older sister, Lena Jackson, hesitated. "This has already happened 99 times. If we do it again, we might really ruin him." "What if he gets his memory back and wants to return to the other world? Won't Zach die because of him?" "Don't forget! The more he suffers here, the better Zach's life will be over there!"