Jin Ho Solo Leveling Novels & Stories

When my husband once again chooses to abandon me to celebrate his true love's birthday, I finally let go. He takes his true love stargazing; I don't cause a fuss. He buys her an expensive scarf, but all I do is smile. I even tell him to buy another hat—it's pretty cold. He thinks I've finally learned to be obedient. However, he has no idea I've secretly renounced my citizenship to join Doctors Without Borders. By the time he comes to his senses, I've vanished without a trace.

In order to protect my father, I was tortured for ten hours, but my father was busy celebrating his adopted daughter’s eighteenth birthday. With my dying breath, I called my father and said, “Dad, it’s my birthday today. Could you wish me a happy birthday?” “You crazy monster! You got your mother killed in order to celebrate your birthday! How could you still ask me to celebrate your birthday? You should just die!” With that said, he hung up. The next day, my corpse was placed in different flower pots and put in front of a police station. My father was in charge of inspecting my corpse, and he could immediately tell that the murderer did this for revenge. What they did to me was cruel and made a mockery of the police’s authority. But he did not manage to tell that the deceased was the daughter he hated.

I’m just a farmer’s wife, yet I’ve been suffering from an unbearable addiction. The frequent flare-ups have thrown our entire autumn harvest into chaos. With no other choice, I followed my husband, Tom Reed, to seek help from the new young town doctor, Dr. Cole Carter, but his method of treatment completely broke me…

"Stop it, Dad! I'm your daughter-in-law!" Ever since my husband fails to get his willy up due to an accident, I keep bawling my eyes in the middle of the night. My father-in-law, Anthony Clarke, climbs into my bed at midnight out of sympathy toward me. "Natalie, you'll only hurt yourself if you keep using those toys. Here, let me help you." After that, he lifts my legs roughly.

I'm a campus belle who's addicted to carnal pleasures. The frequent triggers caused by my addiction have heavily affected my and Michael Buckley, my boyfriend's lives and studies. Left without a choice, Michael and I can only head over to the campus clinic to undergo treatment that helps me cut down on my addiction. The one administering treatment to me happens to be a well-built doctor. The way he treats me shocks me to no end. Later on, he straps me to the examination table. I'm so frightened that I keep begging him to release me with tears running down my cheeks. But he responds by lifting my legs roughly.

My name is Haley Dixon. Ever since I was young, I knew I was different from other women. Other women have only one passage, but I have two—and both are extremely narrow. I'd heard that my mother was originally pregnant with twins, but a genetic mutation during the pregnancy caused my twin sister to die in the womb. I absorbed the part of her body that became my second passage, along with all of her estrogen. That was why I had a stronger desire than other women. As a teenager, I could use my little toys for up to four hours and still want more. For a while, I was almost proud of myself. I thought a rare treasure like me would be cherished and fiercely loved by any boyfriend. But after five consecutive boyfriends—every single one of them—bolted at the final moment, terrified by what they saw in my pants, calling me a monster and worrying I'd suck them in, I finally realized: maybe this wasn't being "different." Maybe this was a disease. But going to the hospital didn't help. Instead, they told me that my long-term use of foreign objects had led to an addiction disorder. I cried. Why did a monstrous woman like me have to suffer from this? Still, I didn't have time to wallow in misery, because the addiction tormented me day and night, stealing my peace and my sleep. So I went online and bought the largest set of toys I could find. Within just half a month, I'd broken them all—and my mild addiction had become severe. The toys were useless. It seemed I needed a man. But I no longer dreamed of finding a boyfriend. As long as someone could give me relief, any man would do. I signed up for a hookup app and chose the username: Double-Hole Slut.

I get undressed and hide in my husband's dorm at work to surprise him. Yet it backfires on me—instead of my husband coming, his three colleagues are the ones who show up. They're thoroughly aroused by my lingerie and have their way with the cooking lady on the kitchen counter. It's such a raunchy scene that desire burns within me. I pleasure myself while watching them but accidentally moan out loud. The men turn to look at the closet where I'm hiding…

When my best friend died, his wife, Mia Lewis, was eight months pregnant. Mia said she didn't want her baby growing up without a father. I owed my best friend my life. He saved me, literally pulled me from death's door. So I stepped up, marrying Mia and raising their son as my own. Mia loved her career, so I quit mine. Traded my job for diapers and school runs. For seven whole years, I cooked, cleaned, folded laundry, and handled the housework. Rain or shine, sickness or health, I was there—every single day. Mia, though? She stayed cold, distant. Her warmth only surfaced in the bedroom—and even then, it was a flicker, never a flame. Just soft sighs and breathy murmurs, like she was playing a role she couldn't wait to finish. Afterward, she would quietly check the condom, as if she couldn't trust me. Then came New Year's Eve. A snap. A tear. A broken condom. Her fury struck like a thunderclap. She locked me out on the balcony, left me standing in the freezing rain, soaked to the bone as the wind howled like a wounded beast. Teeth chattering, I shivered as I watched the door like a dog, waiting to be let in. Then I saw him. Our boy, Ethan Bailey. Six years old. My son, at least in name. He came running with an umbrella in his hand. For a second, my heart leapt. 'Maybe, just maybe…' But he didn't even look at me. Just walked past in silence and handed the umbrella to the nanny heading out. Right then and there, something inside me cracked. I knew it was time to go.

I am the most hated wolf in the Crescent Claw Pack. Branded curses. Shunned for the sins of my bloodline. But fate is cruel. During the Moon Rite, I didn’t find one mate. I found two. Caelum Veylor—billionaire Alpha, cold as steel, who swore my family ruined his life. Darius Thornveil—war-Alpha, ruthless and untamed, who lost his brother because of me. They despise me. They reject me. Yet the bond refuses to break. Dragged into their world of power and vengeance, I’m forced into a dangerous game where obsession burns hotter than hatred. Their touch makes me weak, their wolves refuse to let me go, and secrets from the past whisper that my curse is more powerful than anyone knows. Two Alphas. One cursed mate. And a prophecy that says I’ll either unite them—or destroy us all.

He was the weakest omega in the Red Moon Pack, mocked, despised, and left to endure every cruelty silently. But what the pack didn’t know was that he was the strongest wolf of all—a wolf blessed by the Luna Goddess herself. His mother’s dying warning echoed in his mind: never reveal his true power, or it would invite mortal danger. For years, he suffered in silence within the pack, hiding his strength beneath a mask of weakness. Until the enigmatic Lycan King appeared—a man whose eyes held storms, whose presence commanded the wild, and whose touch awakened instincts long buried. The night the king claimed him, the omega’s life shifted irreversibly, igniting a dark, intoxicating bond that neither could resist. Secrets would unravel, loyalties would be tested, and love would burn amidst danger, betrayal, and the shadows of the Red Moon Pack. In the end, only one truth would matter: he belonged to the Lycan King.