Good Samurai Novels Novels & Stories

A text message popped up in the class group chat. A student had been in a car accident and had been rushed to the hospital. She urgently needed a donor with a rare RH-Negative blood type. Wanting to help, I went to the hospital and donated 800 milliliters of blood. Afterward, I passed out from blood loss. When she woke up, she claimed she was pregnant and said the baby was mine. Everyone accused me of crossing a line despite being an educator and professor in college. They said I had slept with a student and got her pregnant. I went to confront her, but she acted like she was the victim. "Your blood is in my body now, and in the baby's body too. What's wrong with saying the baby is yours? From now on, my baby and I are depending on you. You'd better take good care of us and make sure we don't suffer, or I'll sue you for seducing me and dumping me!" Furious, I shoved her. She rammed her stomach into the corner of a table on purpose and miscarried. The internet decided I was a scumbag who had killed the baby on purpose. "How can someone like that exist? How can someone like that teach at all!" I lost my job. I was doxxed and harassed over the phone. Someone even threw acid on me and destroyed my face. I lost everything. My wife, who was eight months pregnant at the time, believed me and defended me, only for the internet to turn on her too. They accused her of helping a monster to hurt others. The stress caused her to have a serious hemorrhage, and she and the baby both did not make it. Crushed by guilt and grief, I jumped off a building and killed myself. That student, however, profited from my tragedy and became an influencer with a million followers overnight. When I opened my eyes again, I had regressed to the day I saw the message in the group chat.  

"I'll leave the decision-making to our children. Girls, do you want 100 million dollars, or your mother?" On the day our parents get divorced, Mom looks at us with tears in her eyes. My older sister, Camila Walker, kneels before Mom while looking very emotional. "I want to stick with you, Mom! I don't want money—I just want you!" As she looks at me, she smiles confidently, as though she's won something. In my previous life, Camila didn't hesitate to choose Dad, who had inherited 100 million dollars. But he lost all of his fortune to gambling to the point that he had to sell Camila just to pay off his debts. Left without a choice, she was forced to take her own life. As for me, I chose to be with Mom, only to find out that the "poor security guard" she had married turned out to be the richest CEO in the city. Thanks to the marriage, I became the spoiled and pampered heiress whom the entire city envied. Camila thinks she's stolen my good luck. Little does she know that I died in my previous life as well.

The High-Ed Aptitude Test (HAT) was fast approaching. My father had reserved the entire hotel next to my exam venue so I could study in peace. While I was registering my accommodation with my school's HAT committee, I overheard Ashley, my roommate at the school dorm, giggling with her friends. "You know who has more money than IQ? Regina Fairfax. That's who. She's soft in both the head and the heart. If I tell her I'm worried about leaving her alone in the hotel, she'll immediately invite me to stay there too, no questions asked! "I've had it all planned out, girls. I'll be staying in the presidential suite for free, and I'll throw a party there! Talk about getting a return on my amazing social skills! "Now, any of you who can pay me 80 bucks can secure a spot at my fabulous party!" She was talking about me! How dare she?! I immediately called my father. "Dad, cancel the reservation. Shutting down the whole place isn't good for business. We should be making more money!"

My father died in the line of duty during a confidential assignment and received the highest national honor. I retrieved his ashes and escorted him home for burial. As soon as I reached the entrance of the residential area, I collided with a woman. The urn fell to the ground and injured her dog. In the next second, her palm struck my face. “You lunatic, you killed my dog! Can you afford to pay with your worthless life? Hand over the urn while kneeling so my dog can rest in peace!” I stood there in shock. Her dog had run into me without a leash, yet she tried to blame me. “There are security cameras here. Call the police if there is no other way. The box holds my father’s ashes. Watch your mouth.” The woman laughed as if she had heard the biggest joke. “He is a nobody. My dog was flown in from France. Can you afford to compensate me? If you know what is good for you, hand over the urn. My hubby is Ethan Stanford, the heir to Stanford Group. Can you afford to offend me?” I froze. I had no idea my husband had another wife.

My best friend and I married the Luther brothers. I married the older brother, a legendary specialist in childbirth. My best friend, Autumn, married the younger brother, the CEO of a pharmaceutical company. On my birthday, my husband’s crush, Kirsty, scared me into early labor by sending me the carcass of a rotten, dead cat. Autumn rushed me to the emergency room. The doctors had their hands tied as I went into premature labor with a case of amniotic fluid embolism. With the last of my strength, I turned to my husband for help. Instead, I was berated. “So I missed your birthday. Do you have to make a big deal out of it? Why are you lying to me? Kirsty’s pet dog is having puppies. I need to help with the birth, so stop getting in the way!” Later, Autumn took charge and operated on me. I managed to pull through, while my baby was rushed to the ICU. Autumn tearfully called her husband, pleading for the specific medication produced by his company. “Kirsty’s dog is struggling in labor. I’m making a nutritious meal for it. You sure are good friends with Bella to take turns stirring up a fuss. Don’t you have anything better to do than act out in jealousy?” In the end, I lost my child. My heart shattered into pieces. “I want a divorce, Autumn.” “I’m with you! The cheating bastards don’t deserve wives.” We filed for divorce, and the brothers panicked.

The new security guard watching over the neighborhood is a university student named Jake Gould, who happens to be sponsored by my wife, Jenna Hudgens. My mother-in-law's illness suddenly gets triggered for no reason. But Jake has the audacity to have my car clamped over the excuse that I've illegally parked it. I'm worried that my mother-in-law's condition will take a turn for the worse, so I quickly call an ambulance. But as soon as I leave the apartment block, I see the ambulance's tires getting clamped down as well. Furious, I yell, "How dare you clamp an ambulance! If anything happens to Mom, I will never let you off the hook! Now unclamp the ambulance right now!" Jake looks at me with an aggrieved expression. "Mitch, I was just doing my job according to the policy. Can you please not make it difficult for me to do my job?" Jenna begins shifting the blame to me coldly. "Jake is a newbie, which means he must be listening to his boss' instructions. Why are you acting like a madman for no reason? "Besides, your mom seems to be in good health. Why does she even need an ambulance, to begin with? From the way I see it, she's just kicking up a fuss!" At that moment, the doctor suddenly yells, "The patient's heart has just stopped! She won't make it if we don't go to the hospital right now!" Jake's expression goes stark white immediately. He then rushes off to remove the clamps.

Three months after my husband, Josiah Erikson, disappears in a skiing accident, I spot him in a bar. He's laughing freely with an arm slung casually around his "best friend", Monica Jones' shoulders. "Good thing you came up with the idea. I'd almost forgotten what freedom feels like." One after another, his buddies clink glasses with him and ask about when he plans to reappear. He looks down and thinks about it before saying, "In a week. I'll show up once she's gone completely crazy searching for me." Standing in the shadows, I watch him savor his freedom, then call my friend who works at the state vital records office.

My grandfather, Marvin Vega, arranges a blind date for me. The guy, Hugo Crawford, comes from a well-respected scholarly family. Wanting to make a good impression on Hugo, I put extra effort into dressing up. But I have barely taken my seat when Hugo's self-proclaimed "gold-digger detector" childhood friend, Marlene Welch, comes charging over. She crosses her arms and sweeps a disdainful look over my outfit. "You're covered in designer brands from head to toe. How much are you planning to squeeze out of Hugo?" Hugo helplessly pulls her back and explains apologetically to me in a low voice, "She just went through a breakup, so she can't stand women who wear designer brands. Please don't take it personally." I smile and say nothing, figuring it's best not to make a scene at a first meeting. But Marlene starts criticizing me again, "You put on this whole pampered heiress act with the designer clothes and jewelry just so men will willingly bankroll you. "All this designer stuff must be from some ex-boyfriend you bled dry, right? Since I was little, I've seen plenty of fake socialites like you who'll stop at nothing to marry into money and bleed a man dry." I let out an exasperated laugh at hearing such vicious, prejudiced remarks. I then glance at the Patek Philippe on my wrist. Even in ten years, she still won't be able to afford what I'm wearing right now.

The intern secretly submitted a voluntary pay-cut application on my behalf. As a result, my salary dropped from $10,000 to $2,000. When I found out and confronted him, my boss and colleagues all defended him. "The company is not doing great right now. Oscar was just trying to save costs for us. Do you have to nickel-and-dime over this?" With my salary so low, I couldn't afford the special medication for my chronic migraines, and one day I passed out at my desk during an attack. But the intern snuck a video of me unconscious and posted it on the company's website. He even whipped up a detailed 100-page slideshow breaking down how I was slacking off on the clock and dumping all my work on him. Overnight, I was labeled a workplace bully. My boss gave me the cold shoulder, and my colleagues whispered about me. Even worse, some extreme "anti-workplace-bullying" activists tracked me down to my home, showed up with two cans of gasoline, and burned me and my parents alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that very day when the intern had submitted my pay-cut form. In this second chance at life, I would make sure everyone saw the intern for who he truly was.

I was dying soon. However, both of my childhood friends, who swore to protect me forever, did not realize that. It was because they were busy throwing a celebration party for their junior from the research lab. I went through hardships and got infected by this incurable virus to retrieve this special seaweed from the deep sea. However, that junior claimed that she was the one who got the seaweed! My childhood friends, whom I had known for decades, believed her. Due to their accusations, I became the evil senior who was taking credit for a junior’s work. I wanted to explain, but they said, “Mandy Smith is a good kid. Why would she lie?” “You’re busy playing tricks and acting like a pick-me girl instead of focusing on your research. Trust me, I’m going to get you removed by our supervisor.” After I was discharged from the hospital, I left the research lab and disappeared just like they wanted. However, they started to desperately look for me.