Reborn Workplace Short Stories & Novels

During the Thanksgiving gathering, I win first prize and get a bonus of 500 dollars. My boss, Michelle Wagner, generously doubles it. In the end, I get one thousand dollars. Then, my coworker, Caleb Clinton, and Michelle start egging me on to treat everyone to a meal. They basically force me to pay for the company's Thanksgiving gathering. If I refuse, Caleb says he will cut ties with me, and Michelle threatens to fire me. I have no choice but to agree under their pressuring. In the end, I pay an extra 100 thousand dollars out of my own pocket. After I settle the bill, they abandon the drunken me on the roadside, where I freeze to death. When I open my eyes again, I return to the day of the Thanksgiving gathering.

The new intern in our department, Astrid Stokes, had a soft, harmless look people viewed as innocent. She also claimed she could see a countdown over people's heads, ticking down to their deaths. Most of us just laughed it off and told her she had been reading way too many web novels. When an elderly man was rushed into the ER, she told the department head, Melanie Brooks, not to bother. She said the man wouldn't make it through the day. Melanie ignored her and pushed ahead with everything we had. The old man still died. The attending doctor even got slashed by the patient's family during the fallout. After that, people started to waver. During a team outing, Astrid suddenly screamed and told us not to get on a specific bus. She said if we did, we would all die. With no other choice, we switched vehicles. By the time we reached our destination, news came in. The bus we were supposed to take had lost its brakes and gone off a bridge. After that, almost everyone believed her. Everyone except me. The next day, she pointed straight at me. "Ruth shouldn't be a doctor anymore. If she stays, she'll get caught up in a medical dispute, and the whole department will end up dead or injured." Just like that, Melanie reassigned me. I went from doctor to janitor, handling medical waste. One day, I got scratched by a contaminated needle. Yet, no one would treat me. "Astrid already said it. This is her destiny. Anyone who gets involved will die, too." My body rotted from infection, sores breaking open across my skin. I died alone on the street, full of fury. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Astrid first claimed she could see those death countdowns.

All eighteen of my assistants got pregnant at the same time, and every one of them demanded that I take responsibility. I was certain I had never touched any of them, yet they stood together on the rooftop, threatening to jump unless I acknowledged their babies. Left with no choice, I livestreamed amniocentesis tests to prove my innocence. The results showed that I was the biological father of all eighteen unborn children. My wife slapped me again and again, calling me a cheating bastard and forcing me to divorce her with nothing. I went to drink with my best friend and pour out my misery, only for him to kick me so hard that he broke eight of my ribs. “Daniel Cooper, you sick bastard! You slept with every woman you could get your hands on! I hate trash like you who can’t keep it in their pants!” I fled back to my hometown to seek comfort from my parents, but before I could say much, they beat me to death with their hoes. Even as I died, I could not understand why all eighteen assistants had been carrying my children. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the assistants forced me to acknowledge the babies.

Last Christmas—in my past life—I was on vacation when the call came. It was Lucy, the family’s new pet capo, and she was in a panic. She’d blown the deal with the Colombians, she said, and now they were threatening to make us pay. I had to rush back and clean up the mess. I saved the deal, but it still cost us a shipment of hardware. And then Lucy, the one who caused the whole mess, pointed the finger straight at me. “It was Madeline! She gave me bad intel! She must’ve set me up!” The truth? The deal went south because she mouthed off to the Colombians and pissed them off. But Henry, the Godfather I’d served loyally for years, didn't want to hear my side. He just branded me a traitor. He kicked me out of the family and put the word out to every outfit that I was a rat. I had a price on my head. I died in some gutter, my body left for the dogs. When I opened my eyes again, it was just before that Christmas. This time, I walked straight into Henry's study and handed over my family signet. "I want out." This time, I can’t wait to see who’s left holding the bag with the pissed-off Colombians.

My husband's secretary, Regina Wade, claims she is a lucky charm. She wins every lottery ticket she buys and even wins three bets in a row. In truth, she is just transferring her bad luck onto me. In my previous life, she confidently invites the entire company to gamble, and everyone walks away with huge winnings. Well, everyone except me, as I lose everything. Regina throws money around in the casino, indulging her vanity, while my face rots and my body becomes riddled with illness. She conducts livestreams to auction off her good luck, while I get hit by cars every time I go out and almost die from infection during surgery. When I ask my husband, Jack Burns, to investigate her, he points at me angrily and scolds, "Ariel Nichols, stop blaming your bad luck on Reggie. You are just jealous that she is lucky. With such vicious thoughts, you deserve to get hit!" Three days later, Regina wins a trillion-dollar gamble and gains boundless wealth. I, on the other hand, bleed from inside and die suddenly. Even until my death, I never figure out why I have such terrible luck. When I open my eyes again, I return to the day Regina first claims she is a lucky charm.

After I regressed, I stood up in front of everyone and announced I was cutting my two childhood friends out of my life for good. Nobody knew that the intern who'd been trailing after them had bound me to an affection exchange system. The better I treated the girls, the more they hated me. But no matter how badly that intern mistreated them, they ate it up like it was love. I stayed up all night writing proposals to help them land a huge account, and they threw their arms around him in gratitude. I spent a fortune saving their sick grandmother's life, and they sobbed with thanks into his shoulder and kissed him in front of everyone. When I finally lost my temper and tried to have it out with them, they left me standing on the street while they drank with him until midnight and ended up in the same bed. I caught them in the act myself. They didn't even flinch. Instead, they turned around and accused me of drugging and assaulting them. The story exploded overnight. I went from golden boy to public enemy number one, accused of rape. My family's company collapsed within weeks. In the end, that intern kicked me into a river and watched me drown. When I opened my eyes again, I swore I wasn't playing anyone's doormat this time. Let's see how far that affection exchange system got him once I stopped handing him my life on a silver platter!

Todd Robyn, the intern, had used some kind of savings-transfer trick on me. No matter how much money I put into my bank account, the balance always turned into fifty dollars. In my previous life, I dreamed of buying a place of my own near the office. At last, I scraped together a five-thousand-dollar down payment. But when I swiped my card, the sales agent told me it had been declined for insufficient funds. I checked my transaction history, confronted the bank, and even went to the police, but everyone treated me like a lunatic. After all, every single purchase on my bank statement was recorded in black and white. But I lived so frugally. I had never made any of those purchases! When I told my coworkers about it, a few of the men took one look at my statement and started mocking me, "Drew's always dropping thousands at some bar in the middle of the night. That's exactly the going rate for an all-night escort!" No matter how hard I tried to explain, no one believed me. I posted the whole story online anonymously. The comments accused me of making things up for attention so I could start selling products. Only one person suggested I keep an eye on the people around me and see whether anyone's spending matched the charges on my statement. So I watched closely, and sure enough, I noticed something about Todd, the new intern in our department. Every time he spent money, the same amount was deducted from my card. Even when he ordered a drink, the charge showed up on my account right away. Once I was sure, I confronted Todd directly. He laughed in my face and said I was a spendthrift who couldn't save a dime and now wanted to pin it on someone else. He said I'd completely lost my mind. He even got our coworkers to help him have me committed to a psychiatric hospital. After two years of torment there, I finally found a chance to escape and threw myself into the river. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day before I was supposed to buy my home.

During a critical heart transplant, my doctor husband insisted his intern assist despite her garish nail art compromising the sterile field. When I called her out, he abandoned the patient mid-surgery to comfort her. I begged him to return, but he snapped, "Giselle is upset. Can't you wait? This is nothing compared to her feelings." 40 minutes later, the patient bled out and died. Later, they discovered that he was our highly respected mayor and placed the blame on me. "If it weren't for you causing a scene and kicking us out of the operating room, the mayor wouldn't have bled to death. This is all your fault!" Defenseless, I was sentenced to life in prison, tortured, and died in agony. My husband and his intern walked down the aisle, enjoying their happy life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of that fateful surgery.

On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, all three of my fiancés showed up with the worst reports from their family-run businesses. My father had declared that I would marry the one who could bring the greatest benefit to our family. However, all three of them had already fallen for a penniless scholarship girl named Amelia Jones, and none of them wanted me. In my previous life, I kept them close, mentored them, and poured my resources into helping them rise. By the time they had each become powerful men in my family, they repaid me by framing my father, getting him arrested, and making him age more than 10 years overnight. He was dragged to prison. Me? They hired a crew of street thugs to brutalize me, leaving me to die while my private photos spread across the internet. As life slipped away, I heard their sneering voices: "Did you really think we ever liked you? Everything we did was for Amelia." "If you hadn't chained us to your side, we'd have married her long ago, we'd have a house full of kids by now!" "You and your father ruined her future. She couldn't afford college because of you. She had no choice but to jump!" Then I opened my eyes: reborn on the very day of my coming-of-age ceremony. I pulled my father aside, looked him in the eye, and said, "I'm an adult now. Throw them out. Strip them of every business and every asset we gave them." "I'm not choosing any of them. I chose Bruce Sullivan, the Don of the Sullivan family."

After I join a new company, I keep running into problems—not from people, but from the company's equipment. The fingerprint scanner fails to recognize me every single time, and I have to submit a manual attendance appeal almost daily. When I ask the admin to change the device, they respond with thinly veiled sarcasm. "Everyone else clocks in just fine. Why are you the only one with so many issues?" The air vent above my desk blasts cold air directly at me. My hands and feet are freezing every day. I ask to switch seats. My manager looks at me like I am making things up. "Everyone else sits there without a problem. How come the AC only blows cold air when you sit there?" One strange incident after another makes it impossible for me to function at work. When I get home, I complain to my boyfriend and say I want to quit. He shuts down the thought immediately. "You're making almost 60 thousand dollars a year before benefits, with weekends off and paid leave. Where are you going to find a job like that?" I think about it and realize he isn't wrong. Just as I decide to stick it out, the company elevator malfunctions. I fall from the 33rd floor and die. In my final moments, I can't understand it—why does every piece of equipment in the company seem to target me alone? All the devices are newly installed. All my coworkers are people I have just met. I have no grudges with anyone. There's no reason for someone to sabotage me from behind the scenes. When I open my eyes again, I am back at the company. It's my very first day on the job.

I won the first prize at the Christmas party, which came with a bonus of $3,000. My boss generously doubled the rewards, and I eventually got $6,000. But my best friend and my boss started egging me on to treat everyone. In fact, they were just getting me to cover the company’s Christmas party. If I did not agree, my best friend wanted to cut off ties with me, and my boss wanted to fire me. Due to the pressure, I had to foot the bill, and I even ended up paying an extra $50,000 out of my own pocket. After I paid the bill, they abandoned me, who was drunk, and I just froze to death on the side of the road. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back to the day when the Christmas party was held.

The company just hired a clueless new intern. For a contract worth millions, she misplaced a decimal point and practically handed it over for one dollar. I chased after the high-speed train and drank until my stomach bled before I managed to recover the company's losses. While I was still in the hospital, she ran to my fiance, Edward Cooper, to complain. "I've always been bad at math. How was I supposed to know something like that!" Edward smiled at her dotingly, replying, "You just lack experience. Go ahead and do whatever you want. If anything goes wrong, Zoe will take the blame." I was so furious I nearly quit on the spot. To so-call "make it up to me," Jenny insisted on cleaning my office as an apology. She ended up throwing newly approved bidding proposals straight into the shredder. The company lost hundreds of millions. I was fired and sued. I ended up in prison, where I was tortured to death by inmates. As I lay there on my last breath, I heard Jenny crying once more. "If only I were smarter… maybe Zoe would still be alive?" Edward stroked her head gently, soothing her, "She was incompetent. She couldn't even keep track of her documents. You're still young. You don't need to blame yourself." I died of anger. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Jenny first joined the company.

My husband's adopted younger sister, Shannon Carter, is a food vlogger. When she was recording a video at a restaurant, not only did she demand the customers stay silent, but she also impersonated me when she began insulting everyone else. "Shut up, you poor freaks! Especially you, kid! I'm Rina, a YouTuber with over tens of millions of fans! One of my live streams alone earns me more than whatever you can earn in a lifetime! Can you even pay me enough to compensate me for the disturbance you've caused me?" In my previous life, Shannon told me that she wanted to become a YouTuber as well, so she borrowed my smurf account from me and tried exploring restaurants on her own. But she impersonated me right away and lashed out at the family sitting at the next table just because they were laughing a little too loudly. In the heat of the moment, she even got into a physical brawl with them. As a result, Shannon shoved the little girl down the stairs, causing the latter to crash her head. That poor girl ended up suffering from permanent blindness. Shannon tossed 5,000 dollars in the ER arrogantly. "Impoverished bastards like that girl will only grow up as drug addicts or prostitutes. So what if she goes blind? She has no future anyway!" The girl's family couldn't take it anymore. They rallied their entire clan and came to my company. There, they had me completely surrounded. "That Rina influencer is right here! She's the one who caused my daughter to go blind!" In the end, the family pushed me down the stairs. Since that wasn't enough for them, they vented their anger on me by hacking me to death with their weapons. As for Shannon, not only did she inherit my YouTube account, but she also married Mark Tanner, my husband. Every day, she got to spend my assets as much as she wanted. Only then did I finally realize that this was their scheme all along.

At the company's annual awards ceremony, my boss personally presented me with the "Employee of the Year" award. The bonus was ten million dollars, and he promised it would go through immediately, right there on the spot. Hundreds of my coworkers rose to their feet and applauded. Champagne and confetti rained down around me. But the next morning, the police showed up and took me from my own home. The company had reported me, claiming I suffered from a severe delusional disorder, that I'd not only imagined receiving a ten-million-dollar bonus but had also attacked the finance system in an attempt to siphon off company funds. I pulled up the transfer record and the gala footage on my phone, only to find they'd both turned into garbled nonsense. I went to every coworker I could find. All of them looked at me with the same pitying eyes and said the same thing. "Man, wake up. You got drunk and made a scene onstage at the gala last night. There was never any ten-million-dollar bonus." In the end, I was locked away for attempted fraud and mental illness, and I died there, tortured to death in a psychiatric hospital. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the gala, and my boss was walking toward me with a wine glass in hand, smiling.

The moment the project meeting ended, my younger brother, Charles Peay, slid a USB drive across the table toward me. “Henry, it has the final bid on it. I need to go pick up Dad, so keep it for me.” In my previous life, I agreed to hold onto that USB drive for him. That very night, our bid was leaked. Stark Corporation beat us by a single dollar and snatched the hundred-billion-dollar project that the Peay and Grant families had spent months preparing for. The USB drive had remained in my possession the entire time leading up to the bidding. After the incident, 20 million dollars mysteriously appeared in one of my accounts. Charles defended me, saying, “Maybe Henry just lost his head for a moment. I believe he never meant to hurt the Peay family.” Just like that, I was deemed guilty. My adoptive father stripped me of my position and my inheritance rights, then threw me out of the Peay family. Even my engagement to the Grant family was given to Charles instead. Later, I died while searching for the truth. Only before my death did I discover that the bid documents had been copied long before the leak. That USB drive had never been something Charles entrusted to me. It was evidence my dear little brother had carefully planted to make me take the fall. Now, I glanced at the USB drive on the table, stood up, and shut the conference room door. “Everyone, stay where you are.”

My name is Samantha Lane. I've forgotten to pay the taxes, and the company's accounts are now frozen. I'm not panicking, but my husband's foster sister, Zoey Quinn, is losing her mind. In my previous life, Zoey was the one who suggested using her summer bonus to take the entire company on a trip to Slarqia. What I didn't expect was that her supposed generosity would drain every cent from the company's account. As a result, the company's cash flow collapsed, and I was left buried under hundreds of millions in debt. When I went to her to ask for the money back, she leaned smugly against my husband's chest and said, "Samantha, I only spent a few tens of millions. How could that bankrupt the company? Don't be so dramatic!" My husband, Harry Jennings, glared at me with his face twisted in anger. "Samantha, the company's money is marital property. I agreed to let Zoey spend it. Back off, alright?" I wanted to report it to the police, but they abducted me and smuggled me out of the country. I ended up being tortured to death. When my coworkers heard the news, they actually cheered. They said I had it coming, like some heartless capitalist had finally gotten her karma. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Zoey is inviting everyone on a trip to Slarqia.

When I returned to the corporate research and development press conference, I knew Tyler Zach would step forward to accuse our team of plagiarism, yet I chose to turn a blind eye. In my previous life, Tyler’s accusation had caused Nelson Corporation to instantly lose ten percent of its core interests. Back then, I stepped up and single-handedly saved the day. Not only did I ensure the press conference ended smoothly, but I also used the opportunity to elevate the company’s reputation to new heights. However, I was eventually betrayed. My first love, Rosie Nelson, fabricated evidence against me and sent me to prison. Even the results of my project were falsely credited to Tyler. I refused to believe it. I bombarded her with questions and demanded answers. Rosie’s eyes were filled with guilt, but she only replied, “Evan, Tyler came from humble beginnings. He can’t afford to lose this once-in-a-lifetime chance to make a name for himself! “Don’t worry. We’ll get married once you’re out.” I fought desperately to appeal, but I was beaten to death in prison. I wondered if Rosie could handle the company’s losses without me fighting tooth and nail to turn things around this time. I did not expect Rosie to turn to me at the most critical moment of the conference with panicked eyes and urge me desperately, “Evan! Why aren’t you on stage explaining everything yet?!”

On my way home after a night shift, my wife, Lilian Jones, the associate chief of neurosurgery, suddenly called. "Honey, Garrett Lowe in Room 9 has suffered a ruptured cerebral aneurysm. You're the only surgeon in the hospital who can perform this operation. Come back now!" In my previous life, I did not hesitate. I made a U-turn and sped back to the hospital. However, by the time I burst into the operating room, Garrett was already dead on the table. Right in front of his family and the entire surgical team, Lilian slapped me across the face and insisted that my surgical error had cost Garrett his life. The hospital immediately suspended me from clinical duties, stripped me of my position as an attending neurosurgeon, and suspended my medical license for six months. Three days later, Garrett's family ambushed me outside the emergency department and stabbed me to death in broad daylight. Only after I died did I learn the truth. To give surgical resident Ethan Smith a chance to gain hands-on experience, Lilian violated hospital protocol and allowed him to take the lead in the operation. His inexperience cost Garrett his life, and I was nothing more than the scapegoat they sacrificed to cover it up. Less than a week after my funeral, the two of them moved in together openly. A few years later, they even became the hospital's model couple, admired and envied by everyone. "The patient's already under anesthesia, and the OR is fully prepped. Where are you?" Lilian's voice came through the phone again in this life, her barely concealed panic impossible to miss. I fell silent for a moment before answering in a hoarse voice, "Okay. I'll be right there."

After I, Wynn Jaffe, the Chief Forensic Pathologist, submitted my request to transfer into a clerical position, everyone in the department lit up with joy and approved it unanimously. Everyone except my boyfriend’s childhood friend, Yvette Hans, the rookie forensic doctor who called herself the ‘corpse whisperer,’ completely broke down. She burst into my office, grabbed onto my white coat with both hands with reddened eyes. “Senior, your skills may be outdated, but I truly hope you’ll stay and keep speaking up for the victims!” I coldly shrugged off her hand, packed my things, and walked away. In my previous life, she claimed herself as the ‘corpse whisperer,’ someone who could commune with the dead, hear their murmurs, and know what happened to them before they died. I worked tirelessly on every autopsy, dissecting, analyzing, and revising my reports. She only needed a single glance at the body to recite my entire report word-for-word. The victims’ families treated her like a saint, while they sneered at me, accusing me of disrespecting the dead. I could not accept it. I poured everything I had into every examination, but she always beat me to it, revealing the truth before I could. In the end, an extreme group of grieving family members, convinced I desecrated a corpse, kidnapped me, dismembered me, and dumped my remains in the wilderness. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn back to the very day Yvette first claimed she was a corpse whisperer.

When my CEO wife, Rita Scanlond, decided to promote me as the lead in a project, I was not grateful for the offer, and I slapped every single board member present. I gave up the six‑figure salary and returned home to enjoy my life. Everyone believed I had gone crazy from immense pressure and demanded that a rebellious employee like me be fired. Rita's assistant, Hudson Cobb, made fun of me for not having any ambition and tried to replace me in the company. I laughed at the situation even though I was not compensated for being fired. This happened because Rita had insisted in my past life that we use Hudson's proposal for the project, which caused our data to be stolen and led to billions in loss. I was made the scapegoat of the company for leading the project and was beaten by debtors as I ended up owing them billions. Rita and Hudson registered a new company and used my formula to become successful entrepreneurs. Without me to be the scapegoat in this life, I wanted to see how Rita would pay back billions in debt.