All Death Note Rules Novels & Stories

He looked up when he heard me approaching, one eyebrow raised in quiet surprise. "I'll do it," I blurted before I could lose my nerve, my voice steadier than I felt. He raised his brow in amusement, letting the last smoke curl into the air. "I'll accept the offer." I cleared my throat. "But I have one rule. No catching feelings. No strings attached." Ace took another slow drag, then flicked the cigarette away. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, dark and knowing. "Crystal clear, sweetheart."

They only gave me a pathetic look after that, yeah, I just wasted my concern. "We'll be fine besides, we do this all the time." Rald boastingly exclaimed to me. I have a feeling these three are going to be my very bad influencers. "Rule #211: No talking to any executive unless you are told to. Punishment: Death." I totally have forgotten about this. Now, I know why no one wants to break this rule." #212: No gossiping about politics and other news involving police matters. Punishment: Death." Another rule that I broke YESTERDAY.

Hana quipped. Tom smiled, "It doesn't matter; you're going to die here anyway." Tom raised his hand and sucked up the air around Hana again; her body fell into a frozen state that could not move. It's still the magic that dominates level 5 space. Tom laughed, "Scott Hall has five implicit rules, and the last rule is not to touch handsome Tom. Wao, class E hasn't disseminated this information yet, right?"

Lila’s bag in her lap. External threat: confirmed. Jealousy: confirmed. Rule 2: No feelings. Completely and totally dead. End

Scott ran to the arsehole on the floor, holding his chest as if he could resuscitate him. First Rule Of an Agency Vampire; You can't kill each other or we’d be forced to kill you.

He paused to look over at Jacob while they both laughed, "Perfect for a little game, don’t you agree? And as long as you keep to the rules, we won't touch your dying little pet over there." "Rules? What are the rules?" "Don't worry; they are so simple, and you will remember them. 1. Run. 2. Run. and rule number 3. Don’t die. It is not up to you when you get to die; that is up to us. Do you need to write that down, honey? Run, never stop, and ask for permission before dying."

I wipe my mouth and leaned on the chair, "Since everyone is here, why don't we discussed about my rules? Since this is my house not yours, and not letting any one of you ruled my household." "This is nonsense! This house owned by your mom!" Dad's reaction doesn't surprised me because he always wanted to have this mansion, although mom handed it to me. "First rule, none of you are allowed to harm my wife. If she came to me wounded or harmed by any of you? There will be a punishment. Second rule, if I saw another death note to her room or one of you send her a death threats? I won't hesitate on doing what you wrote on you."

“The one who survives is declared the victor. But they changed that when they changed the win condition. The only reason everyone else died in the past is because of the rules. Everyone had to kill everyone else. That was the only way to win. But that’s not the case now. When they changed the rules, Senna, they changed the outcome. All the new rules state now is that the winner is the first one to touch the spire. They don’t say anything about being the only survivor.” My words landed. Her brow furrowed. “They didn’t update the termination clause,” I continued to explain. “Because they assumed the outcome would be the same. One survivor. They assumed you would all kill each other to get to t

Cold. Then I saw it: a black envelope on the pillow beside me, bearing a crisp silver stamp embossed with the letter D. I slowly sat up, the sheet slipping down my bare chest as I reached for the envelope with cautious fingers. I opened it. Rules. Twenty-seven of them. Each one handwritten in Lucian’s clean, precise script. Each one absurd, possessive, and laced with danger. 1. You will speak only when spoken to in my presence unless instructed otherwise.

And she was about to become a player. Without another thought, she tossed the die onto the glass table. It tumbled, the mother-of-pearl pips a blur of white against the dark stone, until it clattered to a stop. The face staring up was a single, stark pip. One. Sensation. Albert’s lips curved into a slow, possessive smile. “Category One. Excellent. A gentle beginning.” He took the die from the table. “The first rule: you do not touch yourself unless directed. The second: you answer all questions honestly. The third: you will thank me for each sensation, whether you find it pleasurable or not. Do you understand the rules, Millie?”