Does Bakugo Actually Die Novels & Stories

Madeline Crawford gave Jeremy Whitman everything. Twelve years of love, loyalty, and quiet devotion, and he repaid her with a prison sentence she did not earn. She watched him fall in love with another woman through the cold glass of a window she was visiting. She swallowed her tears every single night in a six-by-eight cell. She learned, slowly and painfully, how to rebuild herself from nothing. Five years later, she walks back through Havenport's gilded doors not as the broken girl Jeremy once discarded, but as a woman the city will not soon forget. She has money now. Connections. A plan. And a rage so cold and precise it could cut glass. She is going to ruin every single person who helped put her there, starting with Jeremy Whitman himself. But then something goes wrong. Jeremy stops being the enemy she remembers. He becomes something far more dangerous: a man who is sorry. A man who is fighting for her. A man who, in front of the entire city, drops to his knees and kisses her feet and says, 'Madeline, I was wrong to love another. From now on, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.' And Madeline looks down at him and feels nothing she expected to feel. She says, 'I will only forgive you if you die.' What she does not say is this: she is not sure she means it anymore.

In the third year of my relationship with Jason Chase, he told me he wanted to give me an unforgettable birthday. I never expected that that would mean pressing me onto the icy ground and letting other men humiliate me. I lifted my head with difficulty, trembling as I clutched at the hem of his pants. I asked, "Jason… why?" He looked at me with contempt and kicked me away without any hesitation. He said icily and ruthlessly, "Christine Light, this is for Lisa. I've been waiting a long time to avenge her." I closed my eyes as my heart shattered into a million pieces. Later, just as he wished, I decided to end my life. But then, he broke down in tears, begging me not to leave him.

A hell-recycle world within the modern world, designed for death or near-death individuals. With the greenhouse effect resulting in instability in hell, access to hell becomes restricted, and the game keeps the new souls busy while offering them a second chance to return to their lives before death, depending on their performance. A six-digit cash prize is awarded to the winning participants, with rewards ranging from reversed choices and time manipulation to wealth and more. The 100 Doors Challenge System was designed purposely for this world, to keep the growing audience (already existing souls) entertained. Chosen participants must die beautifully at each door. The fancier and more tragic the death, the higher the views. The story alternates between real-world broadcast control rooms, digital death arenas, and fragmented dreamlike worlds designed from Author Willa’s traumas, fears, and regrets and those of the participating ghosts. 100 Doors: Die Fabulously for the Audience. This story contains graphic adult themes, including explicit sexual content, psychological tension, dark humour, trauma, and scenes of coercion and moral ambiguity. It explores mature, disturbing, and emotionally intense situations within a fantasy-system setting. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

Bianca White's new assistant, Jesse Collin, is very temperamental. All Bianca does is put some food on my plate at the dining table, and Jesse is already so pissed that he's smashed all the cutlery at home. Then, he threatens to fake his death and terminate his citizen status so that he can vanish from Bianca's world forever. Upon hearing the threat, Bianca flies into a state of panic. She instantly abandons me, the patient who's about to undergo a surgery that can treat my lung cancer, and speeds down the highway just to pursue Jesse. When the clock shows 3:00 pm, it's time for my surgery to be carried out. That's when Bianca calls me on the phone apologetically. "As the boss, I'm obligated to ensure the safety of my employees. Once I've tracked down Jesse and brought him back safely, I'll definitely head over to the hospital and accompany you throughout the surgery. Then, I'll organize a wedding trip to make it up to you." But I don't want to wait for Bianca anymore. "Let's get a divorce, Bianca."

After getting back together with Tabitha Stark for the fifth time, she sets three rules for me to follow. Rule number one: Whenever I see Jordan Corke, I need to greet him respectfully. Rule number two: I need to have my blood drawn every day, for it's a necessary catalyst in Jordan's medication. Rule number three: I can no longer bond with my biological son, Anthony Fordham. I nod immediately instead of nitpicking every single detail as I did before. Whenever I see Jordan, I'll always greet him humbly and wait for him to leave. Whenever I see Anthony, I'll always take an alternate route to avoid him. Even when Tabitha finds out that she's pregnant and intends to get rid of the unborn baby, I can deliver her the miscarriage-inducing medicine without a falter in my expression. Her face contorted in disbelief, Tabitha smacks the bowl off my hands before roaring at me, "Have you gone nuts, Hugo Fordham? Since when have you become like this? "Haven't you always wanted a child with me again? How dare you agree that I go through the miscarriage right now! Tell me why!" I can't be bothered to answer her questions. At the same time, the system's voice grows louder in my mind. [Congratulations on completing all of the main quests as the villain. Please perish three days later. Your rewards will be issued to you shortly after that.]

Seven days after my twin sister Bianca suffered cardiac arrest and slipped into a coma, my fiancé Matteo De Luca sat beside her ICU bed, holding her cool hand through the night. “So you were telling the truth.” “If I don’t marry you, you really will die.” “Bianca, wake up, and I’ll marry you immediately.” After his promise, her pulse quickened on the monitor, and Bianca opened her eyes. Everyone called it a miracle. Only then did I learn that Bianca was a Contract Holder, and the man she had been assigned to win was Matteo—the man I had loved for five years and was about to marry. His promise had only stabilized her. According to Bianca, the contract would not be complete until the marriage became legal. That same night, our two mafia families rewrote the wedding plans. The De Luca chapel remained booked. The reception, guest list, and priest stayed the same. My mother placed the De Luca heirloom veil that had been fitted for me on Bianca’s head, my father ordered the lawyers to replace my name on the marriage documents, and Matteo slid my engagement ring onto her finger. They were relieved that Bianca had survived and assumed I could wait. Standing outside her room, I watched Matteo kiss her hand as the system spoke inside my mind. 【Target individual is preparing to marry another Contract Holder.】 【Original task entering failure countdown.】 They did not know I was a Contract Holder too. Bianca and I had received the same task, with the same man as our target. She was awake. Now I was the one marked for erasure.

I'm the human shield Daniela Falcone—the underworld queen—personally chose to protect her first love, Luca Bianchi. We're three years into our marriage, and this is already the eighth time her rivals have kidnapped me. Daniela arrives with her men to rescue me, but we're not even five minutes into negotiations when Luca calls. "Dani, I lost at Truth or Dare. I'm supposed to kiss some woman here, but I want to save my first kiss for you. Can you come over?" The second Daniela turns and walks away without a single backward glance, a knife plunges deep into my stomach, and blood splatters everywhere. Just like the last seven times, her right-hand man, Carlo Marino, tosses some cash around to clean up the mess. Then, he has me sent to the hospital. In the ambulance, I hear Daniela's men guessing whether I'll live long enough to see Luca stand on his own two feet. They roar with laughter. I'm the only one crying. The mission to save the underworld queen has failed, which means the System will wipe me out soon. I think to myself, "Daniela, I won't live to see that day."

Sera Quinn had one job. Marry a dying man, keep her head down, and wait. Nobody told her that Damien Voss did not die on anyone's schedule but his own. She was twenty two years old when her stepfather sat her down at the kitchen table and explained her options. Her mother was sick. The bills were swallowing everything. And the most powerful billionaire in the country was lying unconscious in a private hospital ward with his family desperate enough to pay a small fortune to any woman willing to stand beside him at the altar. All Sera had to do was say yes. She said yes. She had no other word left. She moved into his mansion and tried to be invisible. She talked to him in the dark of his room every night because there was nobody else and because she was sure he could not hear her. She told him things she had never told anyone. She told him she was scared. She told him she was pregnant. Then she overheard four words that changed everything and she ran before the sun came up. Four years later she had rebuilt herself from nothing. A career. A spine. Twin children with their father's eyes. A case file she had been building alone, one quiet hour at a time, that connected a road barrier report to a name that would put people in prison. She had one rule. Stay away from Damien Voss. Then her four year old daughter hacked into his private server and left him a message. Damien was already in his car before Sera found out what her daughter had done. He was not coming to talk. And Sera Quinn was finally done running.

Since my bone cancer is already terminal, my doctor asks me if I wish to receive an amputation. My breath is lodged in my throat. After hesitating for a few moments, I end up texting my husband, Jordan Parker. "If I undergo the amputation surgery, I'll get to live for another year. Do you want me to take up the surgery?" One minute before I'm scheduled to undergo the surgery, my phone finally buzzes. "Best wishes." It's the same response as the one I've been receiving for every message I've sent him over the past three years. Of course, Jordan has responded by transferring me money and a note that says "best wishes". I put down my phone quietly. Ever since I've borrowed 500 thousand dollars from him on our wedding night, Jordan has already determined that I'm a gold digger, just like what his friends have been saying about me. That's why Jordan transfers me money when I go through a miscarriage. When I beg him to attend my dad's funeral, he gives me money as well. Half a year ago, I'm diagnosed with bone cancer. The thought about having to live my life with tubes inserted into various parts of my body while lying on my sick bed and waiting for Death to grace me with its presence in the near future triggers a mental breakdown immediately. With tears rolling down my cheeks, I send 97 long audio messages to Jordan. In return, I've received 97 money transfers. Now, I'm about to get amputated just so I can extend my life span, and here Jordan is, fusing beads with his childhood sweetheart, Camille Laurent. As I stare at Camille's romantic social media post and the barrage of comments that wish her and Jordan well, I pluck out the needle with a bitter smile on my face. There is once when Jordan has told me in a tone filled with hatred and resentment that his biggest regret is his decision to call off his engagement with Camille over a gold digger like me. Well, I hope that this time, he won't have any regrets anymore.

On the day before the college entrance assessment, my three childhood friends have gone missing collectively. Because of that, my phone is swamped with phone calls. The parents of my missing friends keep wailing to me, "We've worked so hard our entire lives just so our sons can get into a great university!" My homeroom teacher, Mr. Levinski, begins pressuring me. "You're the class president, so you must find them! The college entrance assessment is a vital event that can determine how one's future will turn out!" Even my classmates and my neighbors keep texting me for more updates. But what they don't know is that I've already hung up on my friends' phone calls for help by using my revision for the assessment as an excuse. In my previous life, my childhood friends had already gotten bewitched by Lucille Reyes, a delinquent. They insisted on celebrating their coming-of-age ceremony at a nightclub because of her. I accidentally overheard Lucille plotting with her delinquent friends that they intended on taking nudes of my friends and extort money from them so that they couldn't attend the college entrance assessment the next day. So, I did everything I could to stop my friends, only to get kicked to the side. "Don't stop us from pursuing true love!" For the sake of my friends' future, I informed their families at once and had them brought into the exam venue by force. Finally, all three of my childhood friends got into prestigious universities. But Lucille, on the other hand, got beaten to death by the delinquents because she couldn't pay her protection fees due to her scheme getting foiled. My friends broke down mentally because of her death. They then decided to pin the blame on me. On our freshman year, my friends treated me to some drinks out of "gratitude", only for them to spike my drink. Later on, they tossed me to the same group of delinquents, who violated me in an alley. They even had the gall to record everything from the alleyway while keeping an eye out for the police. Thanks to them, my future was completely ruined. My parents committed suicide out of despair. To rub salt onto my wound, those friends showed up at the hospital with the video and backed me into a corner once again. "You owe Lucy this much!" In my despair, I ended up jumping off the rooftop. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day before the college entrance assessment. As I watch my friends excitedly discussing the nightclub party behind my back, I can't help but smile. In this lifetime, I choose to lock my door and sign the guaranteed admission agreement meant for Mephton University, the most prestigious university ever, without any hesitation. As for my so-called friends, they can enjoy their coming-of-age ceremony in hell.