False Hero Game Novels & Stories

“Why are you calling him Mr. Caleb? You should call him your precious son.” As he joked, he kept watching my face, waiting for my reaction. I didn’t say anything. But our classmates crowded around us, gasping and shouting. Phone cameras were already raised, their lenses flashing under the lights. “Oh my God, Caleb Moore, isn’t that your family’s housekeeper, Mrs. Zimmer?” “The real heir and the fake heir have been right next to us this whole time?” “Hurry, record this!” Countless looks of disgust landed on me. It was as if I really were the fake heir from some drama, the one who had stolen someone else’s place and used his parents’ love to get away with anything.

"It's a game! It's a GAME here! It is still a game, even though it is completely real! He was able to recognize the kind of circumstance he was in thanks to his senses. There was no real corpse in this. It was merely a simulation of a game. He needed proof to calm down, but the realism in front of him, the stench of blood, and the rotten smell of the body convinced him otherwise. “Character!” Added Mike. He had become quite accustomed to gaming controls through his part-time job at the blacksmith's. Fortunately, this underground game was not exempt from some of the rules and controls. A Character Attributes Window that he and only he could see appeared in front of him as his voice rang out.

She shoved past my parents, who were still clamoring for cash, and stumbled closer to me. Her eyes shimmered with tears, her voice a desperate roar. "Answer me! All that care, the notes, and the help were fake?" The lobby went dead silent, all eyes locking on me. I didn't explain or get mad. Under everyone's stare and her despairing gaze, I nodded gently. "Yeah." That one word shattered the last glimmer of hope she was holding onto. She staggered back, drained and ashen. "So, you never liked me? Not even a little?"

"More than what he's offering. All I ask is that you persuade your husband to tell the truth—for his own sake and for my mother's justice. Your husband didn't do it in the first place. The real culprit is still out there, living freely." At last, she nodded. She would speak to her husband. I hadn't expected it to go so smoothly. Maybe three thousand dollars wasn't enough to buy someone's conscience after all. Zach's offer was laughably stingy—an insult to anyone who still had a shred of dignity left. When I returned to the villa, a breaking news alert flashed across my phone screen. Tensions between Zach, Matt, and Kayla had reached a boiling point. Zach had refused to invest in Kayla's bran

"What a coincidence. We meet again." I stared at her, and something clicked. The car crash. Their car. My "death." It was all too perfect. "Hey, newbies. Need a rundown?" A guy with a seasoned look walked over. "Name's Marcus. A-class player." "Wait." I held up a hand. "Let me get this straight. Are we dead?" Marcus nodded. "Technically, you're in a near-death state. You only get your life back if you clear the game."

“I’m not asking for forgiveness. Once I left Ashford, I’m basically nobody right now. I don’t exactly have anything impressive left to offer you.” “What are you planning to do then?” Marcus exhaled. “Go back to what I actually liked in college. Game engineering. I started a company with two old classmates.” Allison remembered. The game he built in college—won the national university game design competition. And that wasn’t even his major. He’d entered just to grab some extracurricular credits. Ended up taking first place. “Congrats,” she said quietly. “Glad you found something you actually want.” “So when I said all that just now, I wasn’t fishing for a yes. I just wanted you to know where I

“Let’s play a game, it will be fun.’ This particular text caught me off guard. My finger froze on the screen. If it was before now or any other normal day I wouldn’t read meaning into it. My brain starts reverberating the buzzes about a certain online game that’s now on trends. The game is said to be very horrible and deadly. It's claiming the lives of many people in numbers yet people are still engaging in the game. But the mysterious part of it is that there’s no record of reductions of people, I mean with the vast majority of people playing this so-called game. There should have been such news. Which only means it’s all false. The game might be real but those rumors following it are simpl

He was worried that Zane would have figured out it was me with Luka last night, which is why he was going to have an NPC pretend to be me. I guess it was a good thing that Luka designed Alish to look exactly like me. The plan had been for me to pretend to be logged into the game, so I could let Luka know if Zane came looking for me. We hadn’t known when it would happen, but I was glad it happened when it did. If it had taken any longer, I would have fallen asleep. As soon as Zane left my office when I had been pretending, I saw him log into the game. Alerting Luka about what was going on, he informed me that he was with the NPC and waiting.

I might as well have some fun. "I'll tell you if you promise not to get an inferiority complex," I said sweetly. I ticked off the names my favorite celebrities. "Nate Reynolds, Asher Donovan, Rafael Pessoa..." Dante looked unimpressed. "I didn't realize you were such a big soccer fan." Asher Donovan and Rafael Pessoa both played for Holchester United in the UK. "I'm a soccer player fan," I corrected. "There's a difference." I'd watched a total of three sports games in my life. l'd only mentioned Asher and Rafael because l saw them in an ad campaign yesterday and they were fresh on my mind.

Avery’s breath hitched, her body locking up as her final defense mechanism crumbled to dust. Cole stopped just two feet away from her, leaning down until his amber eyes were level with hers. There was no arrogance in his expression—only a deep, profoundly dangerous respect. "You played me," Cole whispered, a sharp, dark smile cutting across his features. "You played the entire university. You’re not a human, and you're certainly not a victim. You carried an alchemical neural block, you systematically targeted the Crown Prince of the Crescent Pack, and you neutralized him perfectly. You're an assassin, aren't you?"