Cool Manga

Quando eu tinha sete anos, o papai trouxe pra casa uma mulher bonita. Ela me deu uma caixa de mangas. Naquele dia, enquanto eu comia as mangas toda feliz, a mamãe assinou o acordo de divórcio e se jogou do prédio. Desde então, manga virou o meu pesadelo. Por isso, no dia do meu casamento, eu disse pro meu marido, Ivan Ribeiro: — Se algum dia quiser se divorciar de mim, basta me dar uma manga. Ele me abraçou em silêncio. Desde então, manga também virou o tabu dele. No quinto ano de casamento, na véspera de Natal, a amiguinha de infância dele, Rafaela Lima, deixou uma manga em cima da mesa do escritório. No mesmo dia, Ivan anunciou o fim da amizade com Rafaela e a demitiu da empresa. Naquele momento, eu achei que ele era o homem da minha vida. Mas meio ano depois, voltei do exterior com um contrato de um bilhão fechado. Na festa de comemoração, Ivan me entregou um copo de bebida. Depois de meio copo, Rafaela, a mulher que ele havia expulsado da empresa, apareceu atrás de mim, sorrindo: — Tá gostoso o suco de manga? Olhei pro meu marido, incrédula, enquanto Ivan tentava segurar o riso: — Não fica brava, a Rafaela insistiu pra eu fazer uma brincadeira com você. — Eu nem te dei uma manga de verdade, só um suco de manga. — Mas olha, acho que ela tem razão, o seu problema com manga é exagero! — Você estava bebendo toda animada agora há pouco! De cara fechada, levantei a mão e joguei o resto do suco no rosto dele. Depois, virei as costas e fui embora. Algumas coisas nunca são brincadeira. Manga não é. E o meu pedido de divórcio também não.

Hera seorang siswi SMA berbadan gendut, mukanya berjerawat, dan berkulit sawo matang. Walaupun begitu, tetapi dia pintar. Dia menyukai salah satu pria tampan di kelasnya namun cintanya bertepuk sebelah tangan. Di sekolah mau pun di luar sekolah dia selalu mengalami body shaming oleh teman temannya terutama sekelompok gadis yang berada di sekolahnya dan juga orang orang sekitar karena fisiknya. Dia bertekat untuk kurus dan mempercantik dirinya agar tidak mengalami body shaming lagi oleh orang orang. Dalam melakukan hal itu, dia di support oleh seseorang yang dia tidak dia bayangkan sebelumnya akan mendukungnya sejauh itu. Siapakah dia? ...

"Mars adalah pria, Venus adalah wanita. Mereka dipisahkan oleh Bumi dan Bumi adalah sebuah keegoisan."Seratus tahun kedepan, Bumi akan sesak dan penuh oleh umat manusia. Akhirnya pemerintah memutuskan memisahkan pria dan wanita di planet yang berbeda untuk mengurangi laju pertumbuhan. Namun, mereka tidak sadar bahwa mereka sudah melanggar hukum alam. Mereka mencoba memperbaiki segalanya, tetapi segalanya tak akan berjalan dengan mudah. Umat manusia yang sudah dipisahkan dan tinggal di planet yang berbeda, memiliki pemikiran yang berbeda pula.Penduduk Mars adalah makhluk yang menghargai kekuasaan, keterampilan, efisiensi dan prestasi. Sementara wanita adalah makhluk yang menghargai cinta, komunikasi, hubungan dan lingkungan. Sifat yang saling berbeda, harus bisa bersatu tanpa berubah.

My wife was gone for 6 months on a business trip. The day she returned, however, she was not alone. Hand in hand, my wife showed up with her lover—my client. This was not even the worst part—she was also 3 months' pregnant. My client, in all his beer-bellied arrogance, hurled the contract at my feet, smirking. "Mr. Carter, your wife has gone to so much trouble for this partnership. Truth be told, I would never, not even in a million years, have agreed to partner with you if it wasn't for her!" My wife caressed her pregnant belly and said smugly, "I was the one who successfully got Mr. Lewis' business! I'll let you have it, though, as long as you agree to get a divorce!" I tore the contract into shreds and roared, "You want a divorce? Fine! I'll give it to you, but I'll never sign this!"

Late one night after getting off work, I was scrolling through my company group chat when a colleague shared a piece of news. The headline was horrifying. "Night-Shift Courier Murdered During Delivery, Police Suspect Robbery." I zoomed in on the crime scene photo that had been partially pixelated, and a chill ran straight down my spine. Lying in a pool of blood, the courier who had been hacked to death was unmistakably me. I had scrolled into news of my own death. Almost at the same time, my delivery app began vibrating violently. "Urgent pickup! Destination: Unit 704 Hawthorne Ridge Apartments, Building 7. Time limit: 15 minutes. Penalty for timeout: Death." As I stared at the notification that read "Pickup failed three times", the searing pain of my brutal death surged through my body. So that was it. I had already died three times. When I forced open the half-closed security door of 704 for the fourth time, a thin delivery envelope lay quietly inside. I tore it open. A photograph slipped out. It was a picture of my dismembered body. The timestamp showed tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. On the back was a single line written in fresh blood: "Next time, remember to pick it up on time." At that moment, the red indicator light on the hallway surveillance camera suddenly went dark. I looked up. From the ventilation opening in the exact same spot, a single eye was staring straight at me. The mole at the corner of that eye was identical to mine.

Noong pandemic, para kumita ng mas malaking pera para magbayad ng bills, bumalik ako sa aking dating part-time na trabaho bilang bulag na masahista. Subalit, hindi ko inasahan na sa top floor ng office building, merong tagong special service na inaalok. Ang unang customer ko ng pumunta ako sa top floor para magtrabaho ay ang magandang CEO sa aking full-time na trabaho, si Rosaline Dunne. Humiling siya ng espesyal na masahe mula sa akin…

On the one-year anniversary of the company's public listing, my wife, Susan Lynn, publicly announced that she was gifting a supercar worth millions of dollars to her childhood friend, Charles Baker. Charles, with his arm around her shoulder, raised his glass and said, "Thank you, Susan. Here's a toast to our friendship!" I let out a derisive laugh and walked away. Susan, feeling upset, chased after me, shouting, "Angus, what's your problem? What's wrong with me giving the top salesperson a supercar? You're just a useless waste of space, and you still dare to throw a tantrum!"

By month four of my IVF treatments, my husband's childhood sweetheart posted a picture of herself cradling her baby bump. The caption? [Having a happy ending with my first love. A family of three.] And there he was—his hand in the shot, making a cutesy heart with hers. Oh, and the cherry on top? He was still wearing his wedding ring.

A week after my engagement, I was delivered an unusual engagement gift. My phone chimed. I glanced down and saw a push notification from a social app. [Fell in love with a female livestreamer right before my engagement. I feel guilty toward my older girlfriend who's about to become my fiancée—how should I deal with this?] The user ID was "SimonLovesClaire." The profile picture showed a melancholy side view of a man wrapped in a gray scarf. I recognized him instantly. It was my fiancé, Simon Aldrich. That limited-edition scarf was the birthday gift I had given him last year.

Ean's face twisted with anger as he grabbed me by the arm, dragging me toward the old, rusted freezer in the corner of the warehouse. "You're going to feel what Helen felt," he spat. "Maybe that'll teach you not to mess with her." I struggled against him, panic rising in my chest. "Ean, this is insane! It was an accident! Let me explain—" He wasn’t listening. He shoved me inside the freezing metal box and slammed the door shut. The echo of the lock clicking into place made my heart pound in my ears. I banged on the door with my fists. "Ean, please! You can’t do this!" I screamed, but the sound of his footsteps grew fainter as he walked away. He left me with nothing but a single bowl of water, like I was some kind of prisoner. I slumped against the cold metal, shivering. The temperature plummeted almost instantly. The hum of the freezer kicked in, and I realized too late—it wasn’t broken like he thought. It was working, and I was trapped. My body shook uncontrollably as the cold seeped into my bones. I screamed for help until my throat was raw, clawing at the walls in desperation. My bloody handprints smeared across the icy surface, a silent plea for mercy that no one would hear. Seven days passed. When Ean finally returned, the look on his face was one of smug satisfaction. He had expected me to beg, to apologize. But when they pried open the freezer, all they found was my frozen body, stiff and silent, my suffering long over.