Cut Me Some Slack Origin Novels & Stories

he said. She stood. “The committee has approved the proposal,” he said. “With conditions relating to the drainage plan and a phased occupancy schedule.” He paused. “Congratulations.” She held his gaze. “Thank you,” she said. He went back in. The corridor was quiet for one second. Then Marcus made a sound that was loud and wordless and entirely Marcus. He turned to Damon. Did the handshake-into-hug thing without it being about him at all which was somehow the most Marcus thing.

That's why I intervened—before their tension escalated into another screaming match. "A foot massage?" I arched a brow. "When did that happen?" "You beat me three times sparring last week," Phoenix leaned against the counter. "Pay up, Wilder." I crossed my arms. "Before you cheated with the leg sweep." "Illegal move," Jack muttered, drying an already clean plate with sudden interest. "Hence my reparations offer!" Phoenix spread his hands. "Come on, you know you want to." He was wrong—but the exhaustion weighing me down (three missed MMA classes felt like withdrawal) finally won over pride. "Fine," I exhaled. "But wander those hands, and I break fingers."

"Ma'am, are you guys mistaken? This apartment was sold to me just yesterday. I have the title deed right here. The previous owner's name was Kathleen Holloway. She told us she doesn't have any family left. Are you really her mother?" "Kathleen Holloway is our daughter!" Mom yelped. Dad, finally snapping out of it, grabbed Marcus by the collar. "She's my daughter! Did you trick her into signing a contract? My mother left this apartment to us. Kathleen's just a young girl. How can she possibly sell this apartment without our permission?" Marcus' face flushed red from how tightly Dad was grabbing him. He shoved Dad away with all his strength before brushing off his shirt in disgust.

Sam asked, his voice cracking. "Because the Aethel-Group uses a 'Master Frequency' to control the Slates," I explained. "But if we can get enough 'User Devices' to broadcast the 'Origin Code,' we can jam their signal. We can turn the Slates back into raw, unformed plastic!" Sam turned the camera toward his own face. "You heard her! If you’re watching this, open the Aethel-App! Hit the 'Sync' button! We’re taking the world back!"

The blue Origin-Code vein flared to life, syncing with the beat of his heart. Dax flexed his fingers. The movement was entirely frictionless, completely silent. "I integrated the Shogun’s shunt-drive into the sub-ether matrix," I explained, tapping the silver hourglass component on my desk. "You can't freeze time that takes too much ambient energy. But if you push the Origin-Code into the knuckles, you can trigger a micro-shunt. A localized burst of hyper-acceleration. Your left hook will literally land before the enemy's optics can even process that you threw it."

They thought by making a fuss, they could turn this benefit into cash. What they never considered was that this benefit was never theirs to claim—it was a gift I had paid for from my own pocket. "Impossible!" Keira screamed. "You're lying! You're a greedy capitalist who's trying to take all the money for yourself!" "Believe whatever you want," I said expressionlessly. "And one more thing—because of the recent public backlash, the company's reputation has taken a serious hit. As a result, our largest partner has just frozen all cooperation with us."

Black The Origin Chapter 20: Disqualification. "Alkhun Berhalksawn have to be disbanded for the sake of the Tradition the Berhalksawn Family." "Alkhun was a shame to us." Everyone was silent at the sudden declaration Marlo have made. "What makes yous support that claim? Marlo?" Kepler asked that draw the attention of the contestants.

Everyone said Alice Foster was heads over heels in love with me. Even when my father and I were kicked out of the house, she still insisted on keeping her marriage vows. She even rehearsed them ninety-nine times because she envisioned a perfect wedding for us. Little did they know, all the best-men at the wedding were picked among a list of the ninety-nine lovers she kept around her. “Oliver, you're already my husband. It’s not too much to ask to let them attend the wedding, is it?” I numbly accepted the box of cash she handed me before rushing to the hospital. The wedding was supposed to be for me. That was, until I saw her walking onto the stage with the child my mother birthed out of

I blinked a few times, shifting my gaze toward an apple that had smashed to pieces on the floor. Looking up at Ethan, I offered a submissive smile. “You misunderstand,” I said. “I was merely preparing your breakfast. Please do not worry. A stab wound to the abdomen like this won’t kill me.” Ethan looked visibly shaken by my words. Just as he was about to ask me something else, Hudson called out to him, “Ethan…”