Blank No Game No Life

Could my day get any worse? From getting harassed by a pervert on the bus this morning, to spilling food on customers and getting my pay docked, to catching my bestfriend screwing my girlfriend and then getting into an accident that dumped me in this goddamn place where we play deadly games just to survive. They call it The Erevos. Ten zones, impossible rules, and players who’ll kill to stay alive. Every second here is a fight, every choice could be your last. And the worst part? The bastard running this system is the same man who ordered the hit at the bar the one who sent men to beat me senseless. Now, the game isn’t just about surviving. It’s about finding my lifeline, earning a second chance, and making every single bastard who put me here pay. Do I have what it takes to survive this nightmare? Or will this be the place I finally die?

After ten years as the Ghost Wolf, I finally learn that I am actually the Alpha's eldest daughter of the Blue Moon Pack. When I return home this time, I make no effort to rebuild bonds with my parents. They choose to hand the family succession to my younger sister, Tatiana Truss, so I volunteer to leave for the Northern Werewolf University. They let her steal my fiance, so I end the engagement myself and give them what they want. In my previous life, I spent my entire life chasing love, only to end up despised by everyone. My mate resented me for not breaking the engagement sooner to bless him and Tatiana. Even my own pup frowned at me on my deathbed and said, "Mom, stop fighting with Aunt Tatiana. She compromised for you her whole life. Now that you're leaving, give everything back to her." I died full of regret. I regret losing myself just to win their affection. So in this life, I refuse to fight. I let everyone have their perfect ending, while I finally chase a future that belongs to me.

On the third day of attempting to conquer Blake Stone's heart, he confesses his feelings to me. But the thing is, the affection meter displayed above his head shows the number "0". After we start dating, Blake pampers me to no end. He even proposes to me in a grand fashion on our sixth year anniversary. With tears in my eyes, I'm about to nod when I see a range of comments floating across my vision. [Blake must be exhausted from all the acting, huh? He has to reel in his disgust and keep up the act with Joanna for six years in order to protect Keira from her.] [That idiotic replacement actually got so immersed in this act! I'm laughing my ass off right now!] It's as though my blood had transformed into ice. No wonder the number never changed throughout the years. At the same time, the system's icy voice rings out in my mind. "The final phase is now activated. The countdown to the time left to conquer your target's heart has started. You have ten days left. If you fail, you'll be wiped out from this world." I just smile as I draw back my hand that was about to wear his ring. Then, I wipe my tears away. "I'm sorry, but I'm sick and tired of this stupid strategy game."

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him. I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror. When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart. When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]

Devon menyodorkan surat cerai tepat ke depan muka Rosa. Pria itu tak terlihat main-main. Pada akhirnya pernikahan yang mereka lalui tidak berhasil meskipun Rosa sudah mencoba sebisanya. Rosa menginginkan Devon. Sangat membutuhkan kekuasaan keluarga Wijaya yang berada di genggaman Devon. Dia tak bisa pergi, tak akan mau. Ketika Rosa tengah memutar otak untuk menunda perceraian ini, tiba-tiba saja petir menyambar Devon secepat kilat! "Ja-jangan mati!!!! Ambulans! Tolong, siapa saja panggil ambulans!" jerit Rosa dengan derai air mata bercucuran. Sementara itu, Devon bergeming di tempatnya. Asap-asap hitam mengepul keluar dari sekujur tubuh dan perickan listrik seperti melompat-lompat di atasnya. Namun bukan itu yang penting. Sebuah suara melengking yang pria itu kenal jelas, merasuki kepalanya dengan kurang ajar. Devon bisa mendengar suara isi pikiran Rosa tanpa sepengetahuan wanita itu. Dan darahnya dibuat mendidih. 'Siapa bilang laki-laki ganteng di dunia ini cuma Devon? Cuih! Manusia macam dia mending bertapa di gunung jadi biksu. Percuma dikasih istri secantik aku kalo matanya nggak dipake,' ujar Rosa dalam hati. Gigi Devon bergemeletuk menahan amarah. "ROSA!!"

Fedora Smith was done with love. Finished. Buried. Betrayal had ripped out her heart and torched it—her boyfriend of four years and her best friend of twenty-five caught pants down on the very anniversary sheets she gifted him. And their excuses? “You’re not attractive anymore.” “You took too long to marry him.” Fine. If love was a game, she was rewriting the rules. Now, she runs The Bridal Fix, an elite agency providing fake marriages for a steep price—rent-a-bride services for men needing to fool their families, secure an inheritance, or stage the perfect breakup. Fifteen weddings, fifteen divorces—no strings, no mess. Just business. Until Judah Carlstone. He hires her like the rest—one contract, one wedding, one payday. But Judah asks too many questions. Looks at her too long. And when he smirks and says— "Tell me, Fedora… how does it feel to say ‘I do’ and not mean it?" For the first time in years, she has no answer. Because this was never supposed to feel real.

I chase my six-year-old daughter out of the house on a cold winter day. I cut her new clothes to pieces and dirty her dainty little face with mud. Then, I give her all my savings. She looks at me tearfully and reaches out for me, wanting me to hold her. However, I harden my heart and push her away, saying, "Leave! Go to Bowen Group and look for their CEO, Logan Bowen. Show him my death certificate and your DNA test—he'll take you in." She sobs while looking at me. "Don't you want me anymore, Mommy? Let's go look for Daddy together." After a brief silence, I say, "I can't go with you. I lied to him back then to have you." Yes, I'm a liar. I orchestrated everything from meeting Logan, dating him, to ultimately leaving him with his child in my womb. Even the death certificate I've given my daughter is fake. From beginning to end, I've lied to him about everything except our daughter.

I was reborn back to 1975, when the child in my womb was three months old. I did not tell anyone and quietly had an abortion. However, I still wrapped cotton around my belly every day, pretending the baby was still there. In my past life, my husband Declan Huxley's childhood sweetheart Jane Patton and I gave birth on the same day. She had a healthy, ordinary baby boy. But my child looked nothing like us—he was mixed-race, with features of the Valorian people. Declan and I were both locals, so there was no way our son could look like this. Enraged, Declan scolded me in front of everyone, accusing me of cheating on him and having a disgraceful affair with a Valorian. No matter how many times I explained, no one believed me, and I became the shameful woman everyone pointed at. Worse still, Declan reported me and handed in some foreign letters he found at home, which led to me being taken by federal agents and sentenced as a spy. I spent ten years in prison, and when I finally walked out, I was nothing but skin and bones. Meanwhile, Declan had climbed the ranks for his so-called loyalty to the country. He held Jane's hand and brought along my real son, Seth Huxley, then threw 500 dollars at me like it was charity. He said, "Back then, Jane was accidentally deceived by someone else and gave birth to that brat. Unlike you, she has a gentle nature and couldn't endure hardship, so I had no choice but to switch your children. "This money is payment for your ten years and your reputation. You have a criminal record, and I already filed for divorce long ago to be with Jane. Seth also thinks you're not worthy of me, so you better take care of yourself." Seth also looked at me with disgust. "Mommy Jane treats me very well, and she's not like you; she's never been to prison. I don't want a mother like you!" When I learned the truth, the fury was so overwhelming that I had a stroke and died in despair. In this new life, I want to see how they plan to scheme against me when the child is already gone.

Two years after we marry, my husband moves his sister and her family into our marital home. The four of them settle down and refuse to leave. So, I quit both my jobs. I laze around at home all day and splurge on various things. I have so many parcels delivered that they pile up by the door. Occasionally, I ask my husband and his sister for allowance. When the management office sends someone to chase for our maintenance fee, my husband breaks down so loudly that everyone in the building can hear him. He asks me whether I've lost my mind—who will support the family if I don't work? How will we survive without money? Am I going to allow our family to starve? So, it turns out he does know that we'll starve without anyone generating income. Why does he and his sister stay at home and plot to take away all my money, then?

Layla Miles lives in a posh upper middle-class neighborhood, married to a neurosurgeon, and has a beautiful three-year-old daughter. The only thing missing is Layla’s past memories. When Layla and Damien decide to host a charity event to raise their profiles in Tampa’s high society, two men from her past pop up out of nowhere. With no memory of her former life - or them, she sets out on a mission to finally discover who she is and what had happened on that fate changing night in New York City four years prior. One woman. Three men. What will be the outcome? Warning: This work of fiction contains sexual scenes and graphic language.