Dragonball Rebirth Novels & Stories

My girlfriend's schoolmate is being hounded by creditors. In my past life, the same incident had unfolded before my eyes. I was worried that my girlfriend would provoke these ruthless creditors, so I'd advised her not to meddle. However, her schoolmate later overdosed on sleeping pills. Later on, my girlfriend acted as if nothing had happened and continued preparing for our wedding. But after she got drunk one day, I found her caressing his picture tenderly—before stabbing me in the heart with a knife. She claimed that if not for my indifference and selfishness, her schoolmate wouldn't have taken his own life. Now that I've been reborn, I'll grant her wish and let her help him pay off his debts. Presently, I say, "He's your schoolmate. If you can help him, go ahead. I won't object."

When I returned to the corporate research and development press conference, I knew Tyler Zach would step forward to accuse our team of plagiarism, yet I chose to turn a blind eye. In my previous life, Tyler’s accusation had caused Nelson Corporation to instantly lose ten percent of its core interests. Back then, I stepped up and single-handedly saved the day. Not only did I ensure the press conference ended smoothly, but I also used the opportunity to elevate the company’s reputation to new heights. However, I was eventually betrayed. My first love, Rosie Nelson, fabricated evidence against me and sent me to prison. Even the results of my project were falsely credited to Tyler. I refused to believe it. I bombarded her with questions and demanded answers. Rosie’s eyes were filled with guilt, but she only replied, “Evan, Tyler came from humble beginnings. He can’t afford to lose this once-in-a-lifetime chance to make a name for himself! “Don’t worry. We’ll get married once you’re out.” I fought desperately to appeal, but I was beaten to death in prison. I wondered if Rosie could handle the company’s losses without me fighting tooth and nail to turn things around this time. I did not expect Rosie to turn to me at the most critical moment of the conference with panicked eyes and urge me desperately, “Evan! Why aren’t you on stage explaining everything yet?!”

Love is both salvation and torment. If Bella Ramsey were given another chance, she swore—she would never fall in love with Seth Rogan again.

On the night before our engagement ceremony, Jeremiah Clarke's childhood sweetheart, Kylie Yates, used the opportunity to set an explosion in my marital home while I was out on a gathering with my best friends. She insisted on having a candlelight dinner at home. Before she left, she didn't turn off the gas, nor did she blow out the candles. A short while later, the concentration of gas in the atmosphere exceeded the safety limits. The moment it made contact with naked flames, the entire house went up in a ball of flames and hot air. That was how my parents and my younger sister, Aurelia Shaw, died in their sleep. I rushed to the scene like a madwoman. The moment I did, I saw three charred bodies getting carted out of the wreckage. Heartbroken, I bolted over to hug Aurelia's skinny and frail corpse. Finally, I broke down and wailed at the top of my heart. But Jeremiah, on the other hand, just hugged Kylie gently. "Don't be scared, Kylie. This is just an accident. I'll protect you." With an enraged shriek, I rushed over to attack Kylie. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to rip her apart. But Jeremiah shoved me away, causing me to fall to the ground. "That's enough, Olivia Shaw! This is just an accident! It has nothing to do with Kylie!" Later on, Jeremiah had the audacity to destroy all the clues related to this incident just so he could protect Kylie. Overwhelmed by despair, I used the same method to take down Jeremiah and Kylie with me to hell. When I open my eyes again, I've actually returned to the day before my engagement! This time, I quickly arrange for my parents and Aurelia to stay in a hotel instead. Unexpectedly, an explosion still occurs at night. Three charred bodies are still found at the explosion site. This leaves me feeling very confused. Who are they? What are they doing in my home?

In my past life, I casually bought a lottery ticket at the corner store and won 80 million dollars. Three days later, my pregnant housekeeper, Lily Hall, jumped off a bridge and killed herself. Before she died, she left behind a suicide note and a video recording. She claimed I had verbally abused and beaten her for months, and that I had falsely accused her of trying to seduce my husband, Jayden Sanders. In the video, my voice rang out crystal clear as I hurled insults at her. "You little tramp, why are you using a mop? Get down on your hands and knees and scrub it inch by inch. If it's not spotless, don't even think about eating tonight." I called Jayden to vouch for me. However, he insisted I had always been arrogant and cruel, constantly screaming at people or hitting them. He even lifted his shirt to show off the purple bruises covering his body. I could not defend myself and ended up being the villain everyone wanted to see locked up. Eventually, the entire 80 million dollars went to Lily's younger sister, Emma Hall, as compensation. I spent the rest of my life rotting in prison, never understanding why sweet, gentle Lily would frame me and then take her own life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I won the lottery.

When my husband Jason Carter’s first love, Renee Lynn, showed up at our doorstep heavily pregnant in my past life, I still refused to divorce him. She was soon accidentally pushed down the stairs by debt collectors, killing both her and the baby. Ever since then, Jason hated me to the core. Not only did he cheat and keep a mistress, but he also conspired with her violent, mentally unstable brother to kill me. Before I took my last breath, he sneered, “You owe Renee a life. It’s time to pay up.” Fine. I must have been blind. After my reincarnation, I decisively signed the divorce papers, abandoned my savior complex, and stopped meddling in others’ fates. If he wanted to be a pathetic simp, I would let him be.

There was an unspoken rule in high society. When families arranged marriages, the woman chose her partner through an auction. I had chased Zayn Farrell since I was young. At the auction, I did not hesitate. I bid at the highest tier and chose him. Not long after our engagement, my parents died in a car accident, and my family fell from power. I thought Zayn would take the chance and leave me, but he still married me. He doted on me and turned me into the woman everyone in Ravenwood envied. I believed I had moved his heart, until his first love, Yara Xavier, returned. The first time I met Yara, she brought her luggage into the Farrell family villa. Soon after, someone threw all her belongings out. The servants later said I had ordered it. I tried to explain, but Zayn did not believe me. He locked me outside and made me kneel in the rain for the whole night. The second time, Yara tripped and fell down a steep slope. She said I had pushed her. Zayn lost his temper and punished me. He made me climb a rough mountain path in high heels. He did not stop until he saw that I was covered in blood. My legs were bruised and swollen. The third time, I found out the truth by accident. My parents died because Yara found out about my engagement to Zayn and had orchestrated it. Zayn married me to keep me close so he could watch me and make sure Yara would never go to prison. My world collapsed. On the day I finally got the evidence and went to the police, Zayn drove his car into me and killed me. When I opened my eyes, I was back at the auction. It was the day I chose my fiance.

The day I go into labor, my husband's student, Yasmin Holden, storms off in a rage. She climbs the mountains alone while heavily pregnant. For the next three days and nights, my husband disappears to look for her. Meanwhile, I suffer a difficult labor and hemorrhage badly. I'm rushed into the ICU. When I finally wake up, the doctor hands my husband a critical condition notice. He hands me divorce papers. "Yasmin is my most promising student. I can't let her do anything foolish. You're about to be a mother, so you need to be strong!" In my last life, I refused to sign. As soon as I left the maternity ward, I reported their affair to the university. Yasmin lost her graduate school recommendation and was torn apart by public scandal. In front of me, she slit her own throat. By the time my husband arrived, Yasmin was already gone—along with the baby. He quietly handled her funeral and said nothing. Then, he returned to me as if nothing had happened. I thought that meant I was finally going to have a happy ending. But one day, he drove our car off a cliff with me and our daughter inside. That day was Yasmin's death anniversary. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day I give birth.

The moment my best friend, Patrick York, rushed ahead of me into the convenience store and asked for a lottery ticket with that specific string of numbers, I knew he was in the same boat as me. We were reborn. In the past life, Patrick and I were shortlisted for an interview at a Fortune 500 company, but there was only one opening. The day before the interview, I had a sudden urge to buy a lottery ticket. However, because of that, I missed the interview and Patrick got hired. Surprisingly, I got the winning ticket and won 50 million dollars. After my graduation, I enjoyed an easy life by living off interest from the bank. Meanwhile, despite getting hired, Patrick was paid a low wage and suffered daily abuse from his colleagues. In the end, he took out his frustrations on me by pushing me off the rooftop, killing me on the spot. After my death, my girlfriend, Emily Hayward, committed perjury for his sake. She claimed that after a prolonged period of staying home with nothing to do, I was in a bad mental state and leaped off on my own. The two of them profited off my death and became trending influencers, making it big. When I opened my eyes once more, I realized I was back to the day I purchased the lottery ticket.

To save his childhood sweetheart, who had a congenital heart condition, my husband tricked me into signing an organ donation agreement. Then he got into a truck and ran me over right in front of the hospital. Barely clinging to life, Elliot Carter tore my heart from my chest. When my body was wheeled out of the operating room, Alan Yates came crashing to my side like a man gone mad. Seeing the gaping hole where my heart used to be, he screamed and wept: "I'm sorry… I was too late… If there's another life, I'll never let you suffer like this again…" Tears fell exactly where my heart had been, and somehow, I even felt a flicker of warmth. He spun around and ran back into the operating room. When he came out again, Elliot and Jessica Foster were lying in a pool of blood. Alan, meanwhile, had slashed his own wrist to die with me. On his deathbed, he ordered that we be buried together. Then I opened my eyes. I had been reborn. Before me stood Elliot, dressed in a wedding gown, holding a bouquet, and proposing. I flung the flowers in his face and turned to embrace Alan in the crowd. However, only a year and a half into our marriage, he changed. Alan began openly pairing up with Jessica, letting her move into our home. Worse, he claimed that our cat's mating season had disturbed Jessica's sleep, and so he allowed her to run over the cat I had raised for seven years. I could not believe it. This was not the man who had loved me so deeply in my previous life. My eyes blazing, I demanded, "What's wrong with you?" However, Alan's gaze was icy. "Nothing. I just don't love you anymore."