Campus

By day, Luna Kline is an invisible philosophy student surviving on scholarships and silence. By night, she lives a secret life at Club Inferno, where desire pays the bills and anonymity is survival. When her ethics professor, Dr. Alexander Elliott, discovers her double life, Luna is pulled into a dangerous web of obsession, blackmail, and corruption. As an investigation into the club’s criminal underworld unfolds, Luna becomes trapped between a man who offers protection at a terrible cost, a club owner who will destroy her to stay in power, and a dancer who may be the only one who truly wants her free. With her future on the line and secrets closing in, Luna must decide how much of herself she is willing to sacrifice and whether freedom is worth burning everything down.

Annually, Allison University broadcasts the names of the 100 students that they picked to study in their university and be a licensed professional killer that will hunt criminals for bounty. Axelle Esguerra was one of the lucky students that were picked, and her journey is not going to be easy. It's kill or be killed situation, can she survive?

Belinda's adoptive family demanded that she marry as soon as possible because her half-sister and all her cousins ​​were already married, even though she was still in college. Furthermore, the main reason for this demand was that her adoptive family hated her and no longer wanted to care for her. On the first day of her fifth semester, Belinda caused trouble for the hot-tempered Brandon, which led to a rift between them on campus as professor and student. However, Brandon ultimately wanted to marry Belinda because his biological mother, who had been hidden for years in a remote hospital with access only to certain individuals, was in danger. Coincidentally, Belinda had volunteered to care for Brandon's mother. Recognizing that his own student, and the woman he hated most, was his mother's savior, Brandon decided to marry Belinda. Furthermore, his desire to marry Belinda was to avoid an arranged marriage he didn't want. Initially, Belinda didn't want to marry Brandon because of his excessive behavior, but now she was forced to do so to reap the benefits he offered her. However, Belinda didn't want their marriage to be widely publicized on campus or on social media. Both Belinda and Brandon were forced to stage a fake wedding. Their relationship has been filled with hatred since their first meeting, how did they fall in love? Who is the person who is after Brandon's mother's life?

Zoey Prince was a good girl. A girl with impressive goals. Goal Number One: Finish her bachelor's before age 21 - Tick Goal Number Two: Begin her Master’s by age 22 - Tick Goal Number Three: Get married to the love of her life by 25 - Not Quite On the day her Master’s program began, she discovered that the man she’d spent the past four years loving was cheating on her with her best friend, his excuse being that she was boring and by the books, and he needed someone fun. Zoey was shattered. Throwing caution to the wind, Zoe decided to prove to herself that she was not a boring person. She went on an escapade and this led her into the arms of the one man that promised to make her life a living hell. Professor Simon Beaumont. Simon Beaumont was a menace. At thirty-three, he’d achieved a feat his peers hadn’t achieved half of. Feat: Become a professor by twenty-eight - Tick Feat: Become a billionaire before thirty-five - Tick Feat: Get over his divorce from his ex-wife - Not Quite When his student, Zoey Prince got on his nerves, he was determined to make her life a living hell. When life threw her into his arms, he pushed, but soon he came to realize something: They both needed each other. Zoey would help him get over his messy divorce, and he would teach things about her body. … “Zoey, a man as impure as me shouldn’t be with someone as chaste as you. I’m a sinner before man, and before God.” Simon muttered as Zoey dry-humped him, placing her hands on his neck, her fingernails digging into the flesh of his nape. “I don’t care, professor. Just claim me as yours.” She whimpered into his ear.

I was like the pure and innocent Cinderella of a school romance novel. Unlike the aristocratic students around me, I didn't come from wealth or privilege. I earned my place at this elite academy through merit alone, my high scores opening the gates to a world far beyond my means. Cinderella is supposed to be stubborn, proud, and righteous—standing tall despite her humble origins. But I have none of those qualities. All I have is poverty.

My roommate had a strange obsession with taking cold showers on the balcony. She claimed it helped detox her body and brightened her skin. I warned her, “You should be more mindful of your privacy.” However, she only laughed, accusing me of being jealous of her flawless figure. Then, disaster struck. Her shower photos were leaked online, and soon after, thugs showed up at our door, demanding to humiliate her. Instead of taking responsibility, she turned on me. “It’s her! She’s the shameless one showering on the balcony!” Betrayed and defenseless, I was dragged into the woods and left to die, my life snuffed out in humiliation and pain. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on that fateful day—the day my roommate took her first cold shower on the balcony.

I used an anonymous account to send a video chat invitation to my crush, a senior who had always been aloof and reserved, but he agreed. Throughout the video chat, I had on a black mask, and I modified my voice to conceal my identity. At my command, he took off his clothes one by one, revealing his solid abs. While I was admiring his toned body, he smiled devilishly and said, "It's your turn now..."

In a music competition show, my rival unexpectedly played the melody I had in my mind before I could. Shocked, I confronted her, asking why she plagiarized me. However, she turned the accusation against me and said, "You said I stole your work, but do you have any proof?" However, I was unable to provide any concrete evidence. Thus, I was labeled as a bully and a plagiarist, ultimately meeting a tragic end. Even in my final moments, I couldn't figure out how she managed to steal something from my mind. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on that same stage. Seeing that my rival was about to play her part, I stopped her and said, "This time, it's my turn to go first."

All because of Leo Cullen’s words, I gave up a place at a top-tier university in Ceres and stayed behind to retake the entrance exams with him—three times. By the fourth year, a girl arrived at our cram school, and Leo forgot the promise we made. He started skipping class, picking fights, smoking—doing everything but studying. One day, I stood at the school gate, blocking his path with a textbook in hand as he tried to ditch class. He smirked, unimpressed, and blew a bubble with his gum, letting it stick to the ends of my hair. “Naomi…,” he began, “who still cares about studying these days?” So I stopped caring and avoided him entirely. When he fooled around in the classroom, I went to the library. When he played basketball, I sat in a quiet corner with my books. Even when I craved noodles from my favorite shop, I’d scan the room first to make sure he wasn’t there. “Are you avoiding me, Naomi?” he asked later, his face in a frown. I shook my head. “Why would you think that?”

During the mandatory freshman orientation camp, my skin had flared up with a severe allergic reaction, so I didn't use the plastic washbasin the school handed out. Instead, I opened my suitcase and took out the custom silver basin I had brought from home. My roommate, Louisa Carter, immediately made a snide remark, drawling, "You're really something, huh? Kids from broke families like us are lucky to have any basin at all." I didn't bother responding. I simply pulled out my facial essence to do a cold compress, but she immediately rushed over, slapped the bottle out of my hand, and jabbed a finger at my face. "Bet you get tens of thousands a month for living expenses. You have a sugar daddy, don't you? Don't you feel guilty making your folks work their fingers to the bone back on the farm? People like you don't deserve to be at our school. I'm reporting you to the student counselor." I laughed in disbelief and slapped her. … The next morning, the family photo I'd left on my desk had been slashed to ribbons. Across the back, carved in ink, were the words: 'Daughter of a homewrecker. Go to hell.' I went straight to the police. While officers pulled the dorm security footage, our student counselor and the university president rushed in. The moment the president saw the man whose face had been cut apart in my photo, his legs nearly buckled. He almost dropped to his knees.