Kurama Rebirth

After winning 800 thousand dollars, the first thing I did was rush to the hospital to pay for my daughter's surgery and treatment. Then, out of nowhere, a colleague called. "There's an extremely urgent situation at the company. You need to come back and handle it right now!" My husband took the bank card from my hand and, with thoughtful understanding, said, "Tell me the PIN. I'll go pay for Alicia's surgery. You head back to the company and focus on work." In my past life, I trusted him without hesitation and hurried back to the office. Before my daughter could even make it into surgery, I received a police summons instead. It turned out my husband had conspired with my colleague to file a report against me, pinning the crime of embezzling company funds—money my colleague had actually stolen—on me. With no money for treatment, my daughter died in the hospital. My parents, shattered by grief, suffered heart attacks and passed away. I ended my own life in prison, consumed by bitterness and regret. After death, my soul drifted to where my husband was vacationing abroad. I heard him say to my colleague with my own ears, "That stupid woman wins such a huge jackpot and only knows how to waste it on that worthless daughter's medical bills, dragging me into a life of hardship! "Now their whole family's deaths have bought us endless wealth and luxury. Consider it that idiot woman's compensation to me. Hahaha!" When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very moment my husband took the bank card from my hand. This time, I still told him the transfer PIN.

My husband and mother-in-law fell off the cliff in my past life. I was pregnant and fell into a coma. I could not take the blow and had a miscarriage. A few days later, the neighbors informed me that my child could not be saved and urged me to see him for the last time. The corpses of my husband and mother-in-law were nowhere to be found. A year later, our house was demolished. However, I accidentally consumed paraquat. I saw my husband and my mother-in-law when I was dying. "Finally, we got rid of you. My grandson and my daughter-in-law can finally marry." Next to my mother-in-law was Jessie Charles, the girl next door, and a little boy.

Brandon Fenton, a scholarship student my father had been supporting, was drugged one night. After some consideration, I chose to lie beneath him. I had loved him for ten years. Giving myself to him felt like something I had long decided, something I owed to that love. But everything fell apart the moment Melissa Giles, his childhood sweetheart, walked in on us. Before she could even process what she saw, she ran out in a panic and was struck by a passing car, killing her on the spot. Brandon held me afterward, telling me it wasn't my fault. He even proposed to me. Because of that, Dad placed the entire company into his hands. But the day before our wedding, he set his plans in motion. He deliberately caused a car accident that took Dad's life. When I was at my lowest, drowning in grief, Brandon took me deep into the woods. There, he drove his car over my body, crushing me repeatedly just so I could feel the same agony Melissa had suffered before she died. "If you hadn't drugged me, why would I have ever touched you? If not for you, Melissa would still be alive! I hate you. All of you deserve to die!" And then, after the pain reached its unbearable peak... I opened my eyes and found myself back on the very day Brandon was drugged.

Liam Dunlap, my girlfriend's junior apprentice, bragged that he could defuse a bomb with one hand. Then he slipped. The timer began to race. Terrified, he dropped his tools and ran. I stepped in at great risk and saved the hostage. For that, I was commended. Liam, on the other hand, was condemned across the internet and faced severe disciplinary action. My girlfriend tried to speak up for him, but I stopped her. "If you defend him now, not only will your promotion be revoked—people online will come after you too." Later, unable to bear the pressure, Liam jumped to his death. Every line of his suicide note blamed my girlfriend for not standing by him. She said nothing. She simply burned the letter in silence. After that, she rose step by step from a frontline officer to a model figure in the police force. On the day I was kidnapped by criminals, she came in person to defuse the bomb strapped to me—using only one hand. She looked coldly at the device on my chest and said, "See? It can be done with one hand. Why did you all have to drive Liam to his death back then? If I had protected him at the time, the one in my position today… should have been him." The bomb detonated. I died on the spot. After I opened my eyes again, I saw her running around desperately for Liam. She didn't know—the hostage was the mayor's son.

Grandpa Arthur Bennett was taken to court after being accused of using violence and coercion to commit rape. Yet I lounged at home, idly scrolling on my phone while watching a livestream. In my previous life, determined to uncover the truth, I had volunteered to serve as the plaintiff’s lawyer and investigated the case in depth. I had even contacted my brother, Ethan Bennett, praised as a genius lawyer, and urged him to defend Grandpa. But he believed the story I told was absurd—a lie meant to stop him, my best friend, and my mom from going on their trip to Moonlake together—and he blocked all my contact information. In the end, Grandpa was sentenced to life in prison and suffered a fatal heart attack in the courtroom. My family believed I had deliberately helped the plaintiff and disregarded my own kin. They blamed Grandpa’s conviction and death on me. When my Mom returned and saw Grandpa’s body, she collapsed in grief. Overcome with emotion, she got into her car and drove it straight into me, killing me. When I awoke with a start, I realized I had returned to three hours before Grandpa was taken to court.

I had been married to my husband for 27 years, but the love between us had faded long ago. Even our children could see it, and they were the ones who tried to persuade me to get a divorce. "Mom, you and Dad are still young. You still have time to pursue your own life." "Yeah, Mom. You shouldn't force yourself to live like this anymore. We'd support you if you got divorced." With their encouragement, my husband and I finally ended our marriage. My daughter even helped introduce me to someone new. Not long after the divorce, I began a new relationship. But just as I was preparing to remarry, my ex-husband suddenly sued me. He accused me of cheating during our marriage. My own children appeared in court and testified against me. They confirmed his accusations. No matter how hard I tried to explain, no one believed me. In the end, I walked away from the divorce with nothing. My new boyfriend and I were dragged through the mud online. [You shameless old woman. One foot in the grave and you're still chasing another man!] [At your age, you’re still getting divorced? Hope you and your little side piece stay together.] A few self-righteous, extremist internet vigilantes broke into my home. They tied my boyfriend and me to a bed, poured gasoline over us, and set us on fire. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my children first tried to convince me to get a divorce.

Back when I was 15, I gave my extraordinary luck to Whitney Johnson. Six months later, her wealthy parents showed up at the orphanage and took her home. At 18, I stopped her from dating the school heartthrob, who later died in a car accident. Whitney blamed me for his death. She tore up my admission ticket for college entrance exam, made me miss the test, and completely ruined my life. I ended up homeless, yet it wasn't enough for her. She pushed me into the river and drowned me. Now, as I open my eyes, I realize I've been reborn and returned to when I was 18. This time, I'll never give her my extraordinary luck again.

Oscar Miller was Shirley Bishop's personal bodyguard, but when she got attacked on her birthday, he shielded her foster sister, Myra Bishop, with his own body. Shirley got cut three times—once across her face, once on her arm, and a third that stabbed her lower abdomen, leaving her unable to have children ever again. But even after all that, she still wanted to marry him. Later, Oscar did marry her—but he never touched her, not even once, all the way until his death. At his funeral, the insurance company showed up. "Mr. Miller purchased a large insurance policy before his death. The beneficiary is Ms. Myra Bishop." That was when Shirley realized that after all these years, Oscar had never gotten over Myra. Now, she had been reborn to when her father asked her to choose from four men she had grown up with to be her husband. This time, she decided to fulfill his wish and picked someone else.

After being reborn, the very first thing I do is schedule a hysterectomy. In my past life, my boyfriend's first love started a livestream channel to build her image as a brilliant OB-GYN. The moment she saw me vomiting, she deliberately claimed on livestream that I was pregnant. Right then and there, my boyfriend insisted that he had never even slept with me. I tried to explain, but she handed me medication to help sustain the pregnancy. She even told me to take care of myself and take them on time. Viewers made fun of my boyfriend, saying I had cheated on him. Furious, he broke up with me. Later, my personal information leaked, and countless men began harassing me for hookups. I couldn't take it anymore and jumped to my death. Meanwhile, his first love rode the fame wave of her brilliant OB-GYN persona, gaining followers and being idolized by her fans. But this time, I don't even have a uterus. Let's see how she plans to fake a pregnancy scandal now.

The second Zoe reset her life and landed back at the Elite Match Gala, she swapped her token with her half-sister's. No hesitation. Because in her previous life, Connor had married Zoe, but she had died helpless and unloved. It was only on her deathbed that Zoe finally knowed the truth: Connor had loved her sister all along. Now, Connor grabbed the bouquet meant for Vicky, eyes lighting up."Vicky, you're it for me. My one and only." Then he turned to Zoe—and the warmth vanished. "Zoe, you've always been like a little sister to me. Don't even think about stepping into Vicky's place." That hit like a slap. Cold, sharp, humiliating. Everyone thought she was pathetic. But this time, Zoe wouldn’t beg for his love. She would bless them instead—marry the man her father had chosen for her, and never look back.