Emperor Of Mankind True Form

It's my first time celebrating the holidays with my biological parents after I get reunited with them. The fake heiress, Stella Knight, suggests that we spend the holidays on an overseas vacation. But as soon as we arrive in the foreign country, Stella burns my passport while my parents are away getting a massage. Before I can even fight back, I find myself getting pushed into a scamming den. With a twisted smile on Stella's face, she spits out, "Trash like you don't even deserve to fight with me!" As I gaze at the people who are approaching me, I suddenly find them familiar-looking. I found the emblem of my adoptive parents' company. I've spent the last 20 years being pampered by my adoptive parents before I finally made up my mind to reunite with my biological parents in order to fulfill my wish. I never expect to be sent right back into my adoptive parents' territory.

"You're no daughter of this pack," my mother hissed, her golden eyes flashing in the firelight. "If you can't support your Alpha sister, then get out." I should have seen it coming. In the Ashveil Pack, family means everything—unless you're me. Vera Darkthorne, the disappointment. While my perfect sister Eris got the love, the title, even my mate Cain, I got a mating ceremony where nobody showed up. Not even the man who swore he'd always be mine. That night, I ran. Now I've built a new life in Berlin's underground werewolf syndicate, where strength is the only law that matters. I've learned to fight, to lead, to make wolves twice my size back down with just a look. But when a message comes that Eris's dying, the pack demands my return. "Come home, Vera," my father's voice crackles through the phone. "Your sister needs you." I almost laugh. After everything? But this time, I'm not the weak wolf they left behind. This time, I have fangs of my own. And when wolves hunt you down, you don't run—you rip their throats out first.

I'm dying at seven months pregnant, and the one behind it is my husband. Hearing that a premature baby's blood can save my sister, he conspires with a shady clinic to take the baby out through surgery. After draining the baby's blood, he walks away—leaving my fragile preemie to die. Later, my parents say, "You owe Yvie. It's time to repay her." My husband says, "We can always have another child. A baby's life can't possibly be more important than Yvie's, can it? The overwhelming rage and grief cause me to bleed to death. My soul floats above them as I watch them prepare my sister's surgery. They don't even bother to change me into clean clothes. No one mourns me. No one loses their mind over my death. Without a care, they wheel me into the morgue and celebrate Yvonne's recovery. When I open my eyes again, I've gone back three months earlier—to the day my whole family forced me to divorce.

After eighteen years of wandering alone, I looked like a tomboy covered in dirt when I was found and brought home. Just as I was about to shower, there was a loud scream in the bathroom. The fake heiress rushed out. She pushed me down before she threw herself into Mom’s arms and cried. “He… He peeped on me while I was showering. He even tried to touch me inappropriately!” Mom was furious, and Dad raised his arm to punch me. My brother was so enraged that he even wanted to throw me out! However, I was a girl! Did they forget that the child they lost was a girl?

My parents have found their birth daughter. They're reunited thanks to her face, which is almost identical to my mother's. After weeping in my mother's arms, she slowly raises her head and looks at me. Her gaze is filled with hostility. "You've enjoyed what's supposed to be mine for so many years. Don't you think it's time to give it back?" She doesn't bother concealing her hatred for me. My parents are still bawling their eyes out over being reunited with her. In the next second, their sobbing abruptly stops. She doesn't notice it, though.

I was working overtime at the mall on New Year's Eve, only to witness my boyfriend proposing to the broke student, whose scholarship was funded by my family, on the biggest screen in the place. I was about to step forward and confront him when she, with tears in her eyes, accepted the proposal. "Being confessed to in my family’s own estate… is so romantic and meaningful. Thank you for loving me so wholeheartedly for five years." As soon as those words left her mouth, the two embraced, sharing a deep kiss amidst the cheering crowd. They even won the "Best Couple" award for the night. I didn’t cry or make a scene. Instead, I volunteered to present them with their prize. I couldn’t wait to see what fate had in store for two pieces of trash standing together.

Ivory Stone has tried and failed to seduce her stoic steward 999 times. She thinks that maybe Wilson Quill doesn't have a heart. Maybe he won't ever fall in love with anyone. But one day, she catches him pleasuring himself with a bracelet belonging to the fake heiress who stole her life.

The maid's daughter, who grew up in my home, had the nerve to act like an heiress. On her birthday, she invited every kid from school for a full-on rager at my family's villa. When I suggested they take it to a hotel, she lost it. "You don't get to tell me what to do! My friends can party wherever they want!" She added, "The ten-layer cake my parents ordered for me is on the way. Why don't you park yourself by the door and wait for it, huh?" Her crew circled up, laughing and pointing at me. But I'd lived through this before. Nothing about her little act rattled me. I turned to the butler and told him to lock the gate. Then, I went to Rambo's cage. "Hey, buddy," I said, opening it up. "See those trespassers?" I pointed at the crowd. "I'm counting to three. If they're still here, don't let a single one get away."

The human traffickers were apprehended, and after DNA verification, the police returned me to my affluent parents. My parents gave a cold nod, thanked the officers, and instructed the butler to make me comfortable. Two months after returning home, the fake heiress, Irene Burrel, secretly signed me up for a wilderness survival course. My parents gently stroked her head. “Since you want to play, let her accompany you.” They did not care one bit if I died out there. Irene smirked triumphantly at me. “What does it matter if you’re the real heiress? I can still do whatever I want with you! “Survival training is my daily routine. I’ll make sure you leave that competition on a stretcher!” When we arrived at the wilderness training grounds in the mountains, I laughed. I grew up in these very forests. Did she think I did not know this place?

With every end, there is a new beginning. These are the unaltered cycles that have raged on for century after century. Each century had its collection of civilizations. Each one more advanced than the last, and yet none have survived the test of the Earth. This might as be well the last cycle that Mankind will ever see!