Dengarkan Shawn Mendes #imagination

On New Year's Eve, my older brother, Casper Shaw, attempted to expose me as a fraud and announced that Jenny Ford was the real heiress to the family. He pulled out a paternity test result and threw it in my face. "Open your eyes and take a look! Jenny is the Shaw family's real daughter. You're just a fake who has taken Jenny's place for so many years, yet you still have the nerve to sit here and eat New Year's Eve dinner with us!" Then, he pushed Jenny in front of us, revealing a face that looked exactly like my mom, Theresa. Everyone froze. I lunged for the report, but suddenly, a stream of floating comments rolled past above Jenny's head. [Is the female lead finally going back to her rich family and starting a sweet romance with her fake older brother?] [Not yet. Right now, they still think they're siblings. They only get together later, once the misunderstandings are cleared up.] [Am I the only one who feels bad for the female supporting character? She's the biggest victim in the whole book. She takes all the female lead's hatred that should have gone to her fake brother, and she gets treated as the fake heiress and sent to the Ford family to suffer on top of that.] I looked at Jenny's face and compared it to my own—we almost looked like twins. I checked our ID cards again, confirming that our dates of birth were exactly the same. "Seriously? Ever think that you might be the real impostor here who was switched at birth?"

Ang life trial system na “If You Think You Can Do Better, Prove It” ay sumabog sa eksena na parang isang naglalakbay na circus na nagpapangako ng magagandang bagay. Ang ideya ay plain. “Kung sa tingin mo ang buhay ng ibang tao ay magulo at tingin mo kaya mong mas gawin ito ng maganda, sige at patunayan mo. May reward na naghihintay kung magawa mo.” Bago ko mapagtanto, ang buong pamilya ko na tinuturing akong hanggal sa gitna ng palabas. Nandyan ang ina ko, nangangarap na gawin akong inahin. Ang asawa ko, na naglaan ng mga taon umiiwas sa nararapat na hati ng bigat ng pamilya. At ang anak kong lalaki, naaawa pag nakikita ako. Tinulak nila ako sa “judgement seat” na para bang kontrabida sa isang kwento. Bawat isa sa kanila ay sumumpa, sa pwesto ko, maayos nila ang buhay ko kaysa sa kaya ko. Ang pusta? Well, kung magawa nila ito, ang consciousness ko ay mabubura—mawawala, binura na parang pagkakamali sa chalkboard—at gagawin nilang personal na katulong. Dagdag pa dito, maglalakad sila palayo ng may isang milyong dolyar. Pero kung hindi nila magawa? Kung gayon ako ang siyang makakakuha ng tatlong milyong dolyar. Ngayon iyan ay pustahang kaabang abang, hindi ba?

I somehow became the "dream girl" of a cold, dangerous villain straight outta a novel. Well—technically, it was my mini burritos that did the damage. Hot, cheap, and hit like a hug. The year his whole world crashed, Rory Roth showed up scrawny and wrecked, clutching three crumpled bucks. "Can I get one mini burrito?" I stood there with a spatula in hand, staring at the kid who'd one day become some criminal mastermind genius. But right now? No threat, no swagger—just a shivering kid with wary eyes. "I'm not tryna scam you. If it's not enough, I'll wash dishes, mop floors, help with customers—whatever. Once I make up the rest, c-could you make me a mini burrito then?" That's when it hit me. This so-called villain... was just a starving, beat-down kid.

In the dead of this frozen apocalypse, the shelter's fusion core was on the verge of overload. I grabbed my repair kit and sprinted for the basement, only to have the guard captain's girlfriend, Miranda Dunn, step right into my path. "Everyone, come look! Zach’s about to dump poison into the vents. He's gonna kill us all!" Her voice cut through the air as she shrieked. "I didn’t approve a private room for him two days ago, and now, he wants us all dead!" The guards didn't bother asking questions. They slammed me hard against the freezing metal door. "Zach, are you going to kill us all over a room? We're taking you in for interrogation!" I stared at the control panel, its readings spiking into the red, and shouted, "If the core blows up, none of us will make it out alive!" But they were too busy trying to impress Miranda and brushed off my warning, thinking I had lost it. Nineteen minutes remained before the core exploded.

I was the daughter of the Azurez Sect’s leader and its next heir. Unfortunately, on the eve of my succession ceremony, an accident occurred while I was descending the mountain to eliminate vengeful spirits. At a critical moment, my powers spiraled out of control, and I succumbed to demonic backlash. The spirits wounded me, and in an instant, all my cultivation was destroyed. My fiancé, Julian Zackman, ventured alone into the spirits’ lair to save me. He battled them for three days and three nights before finally bringing me back. However, in doing so, he lost an arm and a thousand years’ worth of cultivation. From that day on, he could no longer wield a sword. I was consumed with guilt. I even convinced myself that I would leave everything behind and live in seclusion with him, living a simple life together. However, by chance, I overheard a conversation between him and my father. “I know what I did to Queenie was wrong, but she was too powerful. I had no choice but to slip some of the delusional powder into her sachet to make her go astray. I needed to make sure Wendy could become Sect Leader.” My father looked at Julian’s empty sleeve with regret. “I understand your intentions, but you didn’t have to sacrifice your arm. You are my most gifted disciple. Without it, how will you ever wield a sword again?” “Master, don’t worry. It was only an illusion to deceive her. Once Wendy takes over the sect, I’ll arrange a place for Queenie at the foot of the mountain. Without cultivation, she’s worth nothing to Azurez Sect. She might as well live down there, farming, raising chickens, and living as a peasant woman. At least she’ll have a stable life that way.” My heart sank. Everything he did had been a lie. It was all to force me to give up my place. If the world had turned its back on me, I would tear it down in return.

Dario Morello came from old money in Santria City—but his family was cursed. Every guy in that bloodline dropped dead before twenty-five, like something sucked the life out of them. The only way out? Marry someone with a rare fertility gene. In my last life, my adopted sister Serena jacked my wedding dress and took my place at the altar. I exposed her right there in front of everyone. She became Santria's biggest joke. Then she killed herself. My parents said I was heartless. Cut me off without blinking. Dario? He hated me too. On the anniversary of Serena's death, he locked me in a basement, strapped me with explosives, and snapped, "That fertility gene lie? You made it up for clout and cash. Serena was pregnant with my kid. You killed them both. So now—you're going with her." Next thing I knew, I was waking up on the morning of the wedding. This time? I helped Serena with the veil and wished them a perfect life.

I was reborn before I signed up for a scientific expedition tour to the South Pole. My boyfriend’s adopted younger sister used a system to forcefully exchange my physical senses with hers. She deliberately went out to do something good on a day with a temperature of 107.6 °F, like delivering water to the outdoor workers. On the other hand, I got so hot in a 60.8 °F air-conditioned room that I fainted from heat stroke. I begged Wendy Little to stop, but she feigned innocence. “You must make a good excuse if you want to lie like that!” Max Little sounded disdainful. “How selfish! You’re quite lucky to enjoy yourself in air-conditioned rooms every day. You can’t tolerate Wendy doing something kind.” Wendy took her time and basked in the sun for a month outside. People took photos of her and put them on the internet. Countless netizens were moved by her. But I died from heat stroke in an air-conditioned room. Nobody even found my corpse. If that was how it was, I wanted her to enjoy the coolness of -184 °F in the South Pole.

When I was ten years old, both my parents passed away. My sister, Brianna, and I only had each other left. We were tormented at the orphanage before the Larsons adopted us. They doted on Brianna and me, and even allowed their daughter, Vivian Larson, to get engaged to me when I was 20 years old. It was a wonderful tale of love. Vivian didn't let any of us down. She would have given me the moon if she could, and she loved me with all her heart. During the ten years we spent with the Larsons, Brianna and I led a good life and never suffered at all. The night before we got married, Vivian took out a treasured bottle of vintage wine. It was to be served at our wedding. However, I poisoned the wine and killed everyone in the Larson family, including my own sister.

The whole world got sucked into a survival horror game. While everyone else was grinding mobs and trying not to get wiped, the system bugged out and tagged me as an NPC. My role? Takeout girl. I cruised around on my busted scooter, dropping food at boss lairs. If my rating dipped under 9.0, I'd keel over instantly. I figured I was just some unlucky idiot skating on death's edge. Then a pack of dumb players tried to jack my ride. That's when the scariest bosses in the game roared at once: "Who the hell thinks they can touch my crew?!"

Brielle Davenport tells me to test out rat poison on her childhood sweetheart, Trevor Whitlock's live stream, just so the popularity can be boosted. "All you lose is a life, you know. Meanwhile, Trev has always dreamed of becoming a popular streamer." Then, Brielle hands the rat poison to me. I don't turn her down. Instead, I lift the rat poison to my lips and drink it right in front of the camera. Naturally, my actions boost Trevor to the top spot of the platform, making him the most popular male streamer. The delighted Brielle is quick to throw him an afterparty to celebrate his success. The next day, when Brielle opens the door to the studio, she notices my stiff figure on the floor, my lips still bluish-purple from the poison. She has always been cold and aloof, and yet, she crumbles from anxiety on the spot. I used to come back to life within two hours after my death. Yet, this time, I show no signs of life. Brielle keeps calling out my name. Later on, she can only listen in disbelief as the doctor pronounces my death. Meanwhile, I've already stirred awake in my original world and started my life anew. The truth is, I've transmigrated into this book eight times in a row. In the first seven times, Brielle had saved me seven times, but she also hurt me that many times. In the eighth attempt, I return seven lives to her. Finally, I'm able to leave this world once and for all.