Kazuma Face

Following an army mission, I ended up spending three years in a coma. After regaining consciousness, I request a temporary leave from the hospital. I sneak over to the army base where my wife, Major Alicia Connor, is stationed. With my heart bursting with joy, I prepare to give her a surprise—only to spot her on the training grounds, cradled in the arms of another man while he does his squats. The newly recruited soldiers cheer them on, saying, "Kiss her! Kiss her!" I figure they're just joking around, but Alicia proceeds to kiss the man without any hesitation. Still clinging to hope, I tell the soldier on guard to tell Alicia to come out and see me. Instead, it's that man, Steven Greene, who shows up. He gets the other soldiers to press me in the mud, snarling menacingly, "He's the monster who kept stalking Alicia three years ago and took advantage of her when she was drunk!" He stomps on the bouquet of asters I bring with me, driving them into the mud as well. "How dare a scar-faced cripple like you set your sights on Alicia? She's the youngest female major in the history of the army! "I'm going to make it clear to you today that Alicia isn't someone a loser like you can get any ideas about!" Blood sputters from my mouth as they give me a good thrashing. The bones in my already injured leg split and fractured even more. But what Steven doesn't know is the fact that, without me, Alicia can't even remain in the army, let alone be a major.

After my friend Josh Yates fell deep into gambling, he showed up one day wearing a wide, excited grin, insisting on taking me to Macoria. "I just won big," he said. "My treat. We're staying at the most luxurious hotel." However, the moment we landed, he led me straight into a private room buried deep inside a casino. "The truth is, I lost 7.5 million," he admitted. "If I can't pay it back, they'll sell me off to the Mykar Borderlands… "However, the woman who runs this place is looking for a man with a crescent-shaped birthmark. If they find him, all debts are wiped clean. "You've got one on your stomach. I saw it when you were showering. I'm sorry, man… I really don't want to die." Four men pinned me down on a sofa. That was when I noticed a child's drawing hanging on the wall. I had made it for my mother before I was taken from her. She cherished it, said she would keep it for the rest of her life. An icy smile tugged at my lips. Josh, Josh… this time, you really did place the right bet, I thought. Too bad the winner would not be you.

When Roxy showed up at my engagement party to Ian, wearing a dress from the same collection as mine, I knew the marriage wasn’t going anywhere.  The daughter of a homewrecker, Roxy would steal Ian from me just like how her mother took my dad from my mother. However, I'm not letting her get away with it.  Before anybody knew, I trashed my own engagement party and skipped town. I was done playing games.

To defuse the bomb strapped to the hostage, I had no choice—I cut off all her clothes. My clueless new wife, Dana Poole, blasted it online. She cried as she faced me. "Why not at least leave her underwear on? You were saving her, I get it—but did you have to take everything? Doesn't a girl's dignity matter? With cameras everywhere, how is she supposed to live after this? You couldn't even cover her up?" The backlash exploded. The unit benched me to calm things down. So I stopped caring. I followed procedure, no improvising, no extra effort. Then one day, at the busiest mall in the city, Dana's mom got strapped into a brand-new linked bomb. This time, the whole unit panicked.

Eight years of loyalty—wiped out by three days of her batting her lashes. At the bonfire, I swore the Alpha would finally mark me. Instead, I watched him fasten a sparkly little pendant around her neck. When the fire broke out, he ditched me—flames snapping at my heels. Said I could "handle myself," then played hero carrying her out. She showed up at my herb shop all smug, called me a "mutt no one wants." Then he showed up—Alpha on his knees outside my door, begging for another shot. I nodded toward my shelves. "These heal every wolf in Stormborne... except the Alpha who couldn't see what was right in front of him."

I'm the female protagonist of a spicy novel. One day, the system tosses me into an innocuous novel to be reformed. What a joke! I turn to the male protagonist. "Hi there. Want to make out?" He has me thrown behind bars and accuses me of molesting him. Much later, he does even naughtier things than the male protagonists in spicy novels do.

When I'm taking Mom and Dad to experience the cable car ride, an infinite display of fireworks suddenly bursts from the bottom of the mountain. Soon, they form a sentence in the air. "Our romance will never fade away, even if we die. Yvonne Shaw, my heart belongs to you always." Right away, I realize that my husband, Henry Glover, has specifically prepared the fireworks display just to please his childhood sweetheart, Yvonne Shaw. Under the powerful attacks of the fireworks, the cable lines begin to shake and tremble violently to the point they are about to snap. My fingers tighten around my phone so much that they've turned white. I scream into the speaker, "Henry Glover, have you gone nuts? Stop it! Mom and Dad are still in the cable car!" But he merely chortles in return. I can hear Yvonne's delicate voice egging him on in the background. "Why should I stop? When Yvonne's parents were lying in the ICU and waiting for help three years ago, you screwed up their life-saving surgery despite the fact that you never failed a surgery before! "Today, I want you to have a taste of what it feels like to lose your loved ones as well!" After that, the bodyguards' responses echo from the other end of the line. Henry orders, "Add another huge batch of fireworks and aim them at the cable car. Just keep firing at it!" Yvonne's titters are like poisoned honey. She continues egging on Henry. "You're amazing, darling! Make those two bastards turn to ash!" The cable car sinks all of a sudden. Mom and Dad are so frightened that their complexions turn deathly pale. With bloodshot eyes, I use all of my strength in roaring at my phone. "Henry Glover, your own parents are the ones trapped inside the cable car right now!"

I was known all throughout high society as the perfect, obedient daughter. Suitors lined up at my door in droves, yet I insisted on marrying Grayson Thatcher, whose family fortune had crumbled, all because of a promise we made when we were young. I thought we would be partners building a life together, but he fell deeply in love with his childhood sweetheart, a girl who spent her days running wild. The night before our wedding, he went street racing with her and they both got arrested, causing him to miss the ceremony entirely. The scandal made it everywhere. On New Year's Eve, he left me to organize the family banquet alone while he ran off with his childhood sweetheart to some crowded plaza. To see a different display of fireworks, they set fire to balloons people had released into the sky and triggered a massive blaze. Once again, I exhausted every connection I had to get him out of the mess. I cleaned up 999 of his reckless mistakes and kept the Thatcher family's business afloat, making sure he could live without a care in the world. I thought that eventually, he would at least remember some small part of what we meant to each other. Yet when I fell critically ill and needed a heart transplant, he took the only available donor heart and gave it to his childhood sweetheart instead. That was the first time I broke down and demanded answers. He stared at me, cold and unmoved. "You have the nerve to ask me that? If you hadn't forced yourself on me, I would've gotten together with Maeve years ago. You're as stiff as an old lady. How could you ever compare to someone like her? She's full of life. "I've let you play Mrs. Thatcher for over a decade. I was more than generous. Maeve is going to be my wife now. When she dies, we'll be buried together. You won't even get that much." I died consumed by bitterness and rage. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the matchmaking event. I picked up the marriage proposal the Thatchers had sent and tore it to pieces. Then, I reached for the one from the wealthiest family in the room and smiled. "Dad, if I have to get married anyway, I might as well marry the man with the most money and power."

Three years after our breakup, I ran into my ex-girlfriend, and she had her new boyfriend by her side. "Hey, isn't that Henry the expert?" Diego Stanley taunted with a smirk. "Three years post-breakup, and you're slumming it here playing with clay?" I furrowed my brow, ignored them, and carefully moved the Victorian-era porcelain musician figurine onto its preset base in the display case. When I wasn't biting, he reached out to grab the figurine from my arms. "What's this junk you're treating like gold? Let me take a look." Cynthia Wyatt frowned, her voice laced with that familiar arrogance. "Henry, I've given you three years to shape up, and you're still the same loser? Come on, hand over that clay doll to Diego. Don't kill the vibe. If you play nice, I might even reconsider our old engagement." As Diego's hand neared the figurine, I dodged quickly and barked, "Hands off! It's a historical artifact!" Diego got pissed off and shoved me hard. "Some flea market find, and you're acting all high and mighty?" In the ensuing scuffle, I lost my balance, and the figurine slipped from my grasp, crashing to the floor. That sealed their fate. This entitled pair was about to go bankrupt trying to fix it.

While I was seeing patients in my clinic, Ellie Wilson, the most beautiful girl from my college class suddenly rushed in and dropped to her knees in front of me. "My dad has early-stage cancer. Please, you have to save him. I know you're an expert in this field." Out of kindness, I agreed. Then she begged me to front the cost of the surgery, saying her family was poor and she would repay me in installments once she started earning a salary. I agreed again. However, the day before the operation, her father, Sebastian Wilson, died in the hospital room. The police stormed into my office and arrested me on charges of murder. Faced with what they claimed was irrefutable evidence, I couldn’t defend myself. In the end, I was sentenced to death and died in prison. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Ellie knelt before me in my clinic.