Chord Imagination

The woman my husband never got over and I were rushed to the hospital after the same car accident. The hospital's plasma supply was dangerously low. To get her into surgery as quickly as possible, my husband, Maxwell Gallagher, chose to draw my blood. What he did not know was that I had hemophilia. That single decision drained the life from me. My body failed first. My heart followed, quietly and completely. "Once Josie is stable, I'll make it up to you," he said, forcing the promise through clenched resolve. I smiled faintly as I listened. By then, everything inside me was already dead. Just as my existence was about to be erased, the Neural Outcome Determination Engine took my place and returned to my body. I thought Maxwell would never realize the truth. But the moment he looked into "my" eyes, he broke down completely.

The zombie apocalypse had arrived, and pets could transform into guardians to protect their owners—each person was allowed no more than three. My best friend had spent a fortune on three Tibetan mastiffs. The landlord cleared out a fish tank to raise a crocodile. My boyfriend? He had stormed the zoo and dragged a lion home. And me? I only had three stray cats. The eldest was blind, the second one limped, and the youngest had just turned one month old. The moment the apocalypse system announced that pet slots were locked, I knew I was doomed. I tried to hide with my three disabled cats, hoping to survive quietly. Day one of the apocalypse: terrified… Day two: helpless… Day three: my cats sauntered over, tails swishing, carrying some unidentifiable object. "Mama, I bit off all the zombie heads on this street. How's that? Solid enough?" I was rendered speechless.

I'm the female protagonist of a spicy novel. One day, the system tosses me into an innocuous novel to be reformed. What a joke! I turn to the male protagonist. "Hi there. Want to make out?" He has me thrown behind bars and accuses me of molesting him. Much later, he does even naughtier things than the male protagonists in spicy novels do.

A security guard caught a snake in our apartment complex and delivered it straight to my door. I was just about to scream when floating comments cut in. [The male lead got dumped and turned back into his real form just to spy on his girlfriend, and he actually got caught? This is funny as hell!] [He got dumped, and his girlfriend hates him. He's probably gonna cry himself to sleep!] [Aww, poor little snake can't curl up on his girlfriend tonight.] The big black snake looked pitiful in the guard's hands. It secretly sized me up with its slit pupils. I tried holding out my hand, and the black snake stared in disbelief. Two seconds later, it obediently rubbed its head against my fingers.

My show-quality service beastkin doesn't like me. He only wags his tail for my sister. I then bring home a low-grade venting beastkin. But he's now so upset that he's nearly in tears. "Layla Manfred, there can only be one hound, and that's me!"

My boyfriend's childhood sweetheart bound herself to a transfer system: everything she ate would be redirected straight into my stomach. She opened a streaming account and broadcast herself eating for twelve hours straight. She earned a fortune. Meanwhile, I collapsed with acute pancreatitis and was rushed to the hospital. When I explained the situation to my boyfriend, he only stared at me like I was insane. "How could something that absurd exist? If food could really be transferred, no one in the world would ever starve. You're just jealous that she's making money from streaming." After that, every time his childhood sweetheart went live, I ended up hospitalized again. I kept hovering between life and death. I sought medical help, but the doctors couldn't explain my condition. Some even wanted to commit me to a psychiatric ward. Then, one day, in order to outdo her rivals in a PK match, she devoured ten pounds of rice in a single sitting. At that very moment, my spleen and stomach ruptured, and I bled to death on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of her very first livestream. This time, I was prepared. I rushed out and bought twenty takeout meals. "This time," I said, "I'll eat first."

At our college reunion, I let slip about the three great catches I was dating online. One ran a successful law firm, the other was a researcher at a leading institute, while another was an up-and-coming tech mogul on the Forbes list. My so-called best friend, Cassie Young, paused halfway through her plate of ribs. Giving me the side glance, she voiced her sarcasm. “I feel sorry for your future husband. Of all the women he could have, he had to marry someone with a rich history.” I took a sip of my juice and responded, “Honestly, I’m pretty stressed about the whole thing. They are all amazing. I can’t decide between them. Cassie, does anyone tickle your fancy? You can have one.” As her cutlery clattered on the table, Cassie widened her eyes. “A-Are you for real?”

After the fire, my younger brother, Ethan Harper, and I have become comatose. Our own parents choose to deliver us to the rebirth trial. If we pass the trial, we'll regain consciousness and be granted a brand new life. The sensory caps are attached to our heads and soon connected to our brainwaves. Ethan chokes out, "Since Mom and Dad loves you so much, you'll definitely receive their votes, Emma." I turn to look at the judge instead. "After I'm reborn, can I request a new pair of parents? It's fine if the answer is no. My parents will still die, anyway."

As I fought a stray dog for a loaf of moldy bread, distinguished guests arrived at the orphanage. They'd come to find the long-lost heir of a wealthy family. After confirming their choice, they donated $100 million to the orphanage and handed out chocolates to every child. My mouth watered as I reached for a box, but glowing messages flashed before my eyes. [Lawrence, show your locket! They're here to bring you home!] [Don't let that impostor steal your birthright. It's yours!] They revealed the truth: the elegant couple were my biological parents, and the poised girl beside them was my fiancée. Yet I clutched my chocolate and ran, aware of their true purpose: they'd come here just for the fake heir. Even if I revealed my locket, they'd not pay me any attention.

I sell burritos in a horror game. All the ghosts would come to my place and buy a tasty burrito after they got off work. That was until one day, my ex-husband, who was obsessed with abusing me, joined the game as a player. He brought a group of people to my store and trashed the place. They ruined all the ingredients I had. When the Bosses finished their overtime and saw their pre-ordered burritos on the ground in pieces, their eyes became dark, and they were immediately infuriated. The Patchwork Monster was so angry that the stitches on its body were beginning to break. It started ripping the players apart. The Eight-Armed Maiden’s hair fanned out and pierced many players. The Wedding Dress Maiden suddenly became a giant and started eating the players one by one. The Bosses were willing to work overtime and maintain the operations of the dungeons overnight just so that they could have a burrito. That night, all the players were sleeping when they were forced to join a horror game.