Feel-Good Story Short Stories & Male POV Transmigration Novels

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.

Bad news: I'm dead. Good news: I transmigrated into a novel. Bad news: I end up in a peasant woman's womb, and I'm about to be born as a fake heir. Good news: My little sister, claiming that it's better to be safe than sorry because the novel's main character shares my name, has forced me to read this novel cover to cover. I already know that once the real heir, Isaac Reed, comes home, he'll use our parents' guilt toward him to set me up. He'll frame me at a family acknowledgment banquet, making it look like I've taken liberties with the family's precious only daughter, Kiana Reed. My adoptive parents will be so furious that they'll disown me and kick me out of the house. In the end, I'll die miserably in an alley on a rainy night. So, the year I turn five, I empty out my savings to hire a young beggar to show up at our door, claiming he's the real heir. When I'm eight, the second beggar enters the stage. When I'm ten, the third one arrives. By the time I'm 15, the manor is packed with eight so-called real heirs. These people in ancient times don't know that their supposedly reliable methods of testing kinship can be tampered with. All they know is that all eight boys seem to share blood ties with my adoptive parents, the Marquis and Marchioness of Eterna. I play it off as a miracle from the heavens. Then, when I'm 16, the real heir returns.

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.

At the party, Beatrice Sherbird’s close friends surrounded me. “I heard you’ve had a crush on Beatrice since you were a kid. You even insisted on being her husband when you played house. So, do you still have feelings for her now?” Everyone turned to look at me. I looked toward the woman in the corner who was casually pouring a drink and said, “I was young and clueless back then. I probably caused Beatrice a lot of headaches. “Honestly, those feelings faded a long time ago. Besides, I’m actually getting married soon.” I heard the sound of glass breaking. Beatrice stared at her high heels stained with spilled wine. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, and she remained dazed for a long time.

I'm Aiden, a background character in a melodrama novel. When the arrogant scholarship student, Brock, transferred into our school and cursed the four most powerful families as a cancer on society, I was studying. While the four heiresses dragged Brock through endless love-hate drama, I kept grinding away. That was until the midterm exams, when I snatched first place away from him. The Holdsworth heiress locked me in a dark storage room, saying she'd keep me there for three days to teach me a lesson. So I calmly dialed an encrypted number on my phone. After all, it's a trashy melodrama. Who doesn't have a hidden identity? Three minutes later, the entire school was surrounded by a fleet of helicopters...