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Hellfire's Wrath

Hellfire's Wrath

The new reporter intern deliberately falsified the situation at the fire scene to secure a full-time position and create a headline. Because of her, firefighters who rushed in to fight the fire and nearly a thousand company employees were killed in an explosion. There were no bodies left to salvage. My husband, who was also my superior, gave false testimony for her sake and claimed I was the one who had made the decision. I lost my job, and everyone cursed me, telling me to die. On the day of the trial, a grieving family member of one of the victims threw a bottle of acid at me. I died in unbearable pain as the acid ate me alive. Meanwhile, my husband was busy comforting the intern. "Don't be afraid. She deserved this." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she made that false coverage.
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Let Her Wail

Let Her Wail

Even knowing that wailing at an Eravalen aristocratic funeral was considered disrespectful to the deceased, I let my husband's adopted sister make a scene anyway. In my previous life, my husband, Robert Baker, had a distant relative among the Eravalen aristocracy who passed away. A lawyer informed him that he stood to inherit the estate and invited him to attend the funeral. His adopted sister, Mia Carter, insisted on tagging along to see how the privileged few in another country lived. She wanted to rub shoulders with nobles and make herself look important, even planning to wail dramatically in front of everyone. I rushed to stop her. "Public mourning is taboo among Eravalen nobility. Forget inheriting anything. We'll all be thrown out!" Yet she burst into tears, accusing me of looking down on her and thinking she was not good enough to mingle with aristocrats. She stormed out and was killed by street thugs in a random attack. I thought Robert would fall apart, but he stayed silent through the entire funeral and collected his inheritance without a hitch. Six months later, on our wedding anniversary, he took me to the snowy mountains for a photoshoot. The moment we reached the peak, he shoved me into a sleeping bag and tied it shut. "If you hadn't blown everything out of proportion, Mia never would've run off and gotten herself shot." He buried me alive in the snow. I froze to death, and he used that aristocratic fortune to become the CEO of a publicly traded company. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Mia insisted on wailing at the funeral.
Short Story · Rebirth
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Second Life, Second Chance

Second Life, Second Chance

On my 50th wedding anniversary, I took my worn, crumbling marriage certificate to City Hall to renew it. The clerk glanced at it—and froze. “This certificate is fake. Our records show you’ve never been married.” I stared. “Impossible. I’ve been married to Damien Slater for fifty years.” The clerk pulled up his file. “Well…Yes, Mr. Slater is married—but his wife’s name is Vanessa Grant.” Vanessa. His widowed sister-in-law. A military doctor who’d spent decades living among the troops. My hands shook as I returned home and confronted Damien. He didn’t even try to deny it. “I’ve treated you well all these years. Isn’t that enough? Vanessa is my true love. I only ever wanted her—our children, our life.” My son counseled me and said, “To spare your feelings, my parents kept it a secret their whole lives. You’re getting old now. What more do you want?” Only then did I learn the truth. The child I had raised with my own hands was never mine by blood. Decades ago, Vanessa and I gave birth on the same day. To ensure her child would grow up with intellect, privilege, and a future that I could provide, Damien switched our children. My own son? Damien drowned him in the pond the moment he drew breath. And I—fool that I was—raised Vanessa’s boy as my own. I even got him all the way to Claremont University. The truth broke me, and I collapsed. When I opened my eyes again—I was back. Back to the day I went into labor.
Short Story · Romance
2.9K viewsCompleted
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The Day We Got Our Marriage License, His Childhood Friend Claimed I’d Been Sleeping Around for Years

The Day We Got Our Marriage License, His Childhood Friend Claimed I’d Been Sleeping Around for Years

My boyfriend, Sam Gibson, had a childhood best friend named Tina Lincoln. She was a star medical student. On the day Sam and I were supposed to get our marriage license, Tina took one look at the tight top I was wearing and flat-out claimed I had been sleeping around for years. She pointed at my chest with obvious disgust. “If men hadn’t been all over you, there’s no way your breasts would be this big.” Sam believed her completely. He started cursing at me, calling me a slut who had sleep with anyone, and refused to go through with the marriage license. I tried over and over to explain, but Tina just sneered at me. “People may be more open-minded these days, but that doesn’t mean you can sell your body and make your chest that big.” She used me as some kind of “example,” started a livestream to lecture people online, and exposed all my personal information. After that, strangers kept sending me disgusting, harassing messages, asking how much I charged for a night. Some even followed me and tried to force themselves on me. I begged her to clear things up for me, but she just shrugged and said, “If you never did that kind of thing, why would people be asking you?” In the end, I was assaulted and killed. And she went on to become a nationally famous influencer doctor, gaining fame and money at the same time. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I was supposed to get my marriage license with Sam.
Short Story · Rebirth
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Ninety-Nine Times Does It

Ninety-Nine Times Does It

My sister abruptly returns to the country on the day of my wedding. My parents, brother, and fiancé abandon me to pick her up at the airport. She shares a photo of them on her social media, bragging about how she's so loved. Meanwhile, all the calls I make are rejected. My fiancé is the only one who answers, but all he tells me is not to kick up a fuss. We can always have our wedding some other day. They turn me into a laughingstock on the day I've looked forward to all my life. Everyone points at me and laughs in my face. I calmly deal with everything before writing a new number in my journal—99. This is their 99th time disappointing me; I won't wish for them to love me anymore. I fill in a request to study abroad and pack my luggage. They think I've learned to be obedient, but I'm actually about to leave forever.
Short Story · Romance
10.8K viewsCompleted
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Hiram na Asawa

Hiram na Asawa

Patong-patong ang mga problema ni Maria Averie Salvador. Bukod sa kailangan niya ng malaking halaga para sa chemotherapy ng kanyang Tatay, hinahabol din siya ng kanyang mga pinagkaka-utangan. Ubos na ang listahan ng mga taong pwede niya pang utangan at kahit pagtitinda niya ng isda sa palengke ay hindi maisasalba ang buhay ng kanyang ama. Ang masaklap, sa isang kisap mata ay tinangay siya ng mga armadong lalaki.Ngunit hindi niya alam na iyon ang babago sa kanyang buhay lalo na't nagimbal siyang makita ang babaeng kamukhang-kamukha niya. Isang Francheska Morales ang kumidnap sa kanya at nais nitong magpanggap siya bilang ito at gampanan ang pagiging asawa sa isang kilalang mabagsik na negosyante ng kanilang bayan. Kailangan nitong lumayo upang mabuntis at maibigay ang tagapagmana ng nag-iisang Sebastian Loki Inferno.Pikit-mata niyang tinanggap ang misyon kapalit ng malaking halaga. Ngunit binalot siya ng kaba matapos makaharap ang lalaking kinakatakutan ng buong bayan nila. Kaya niya bang maging pekeng asawa ng isang Sebastian Loki Inferno?"If you cannot give me a child, you better be dead," — malamig na bungad nito sa kanya.
Romance
9.8809.0K viewsOngoing
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Took Revenge On My Horrible Landlord

Took Revenge On My Horrible Landlord

After three years of renting, the landlord kept raising the rent, so I decided not to renew the lease. I hired cleaners to thoroughly clean the entire place, inside and out. There was not a single scratch on the furniture or appliances. I figured the landlord would not return the deposit easily, but I never imagined she would come out swinging with such outrageous demands. “This dining table cost me 25,000 dollars! You got it dirty, and we can’t clean it. You owe me 25,000! “How did this living room lamp get so dusty? Don’t you know how to clean as a girl? We’ll have to deduct 1,500 from your deposit! “There are hooks on the wall. You damaged my walls! 2,000 for that! “This mattress... Hmph. You live-streamers probably brought home who knows how many men. This one’s ruined anyway. There goes 15,000! “Why are there strands of hair in the bathroom? How am I supposed to rent this out to the next tenant? Five hundred for cleaning fees!” She tapped away at her calculator, then thrust it in my face. “You’ve lived here for three years. I’ll give you a friend’s discount. I won’t charge extra for the other damages. Pay me 50,000 dollars, and we’ll call it even! “Otherwise, I’ll expose you online and make you lose followers!” I glanced at the live stream that had 50,000 viewers at the time. When I looked up again, my face was only a mask of smiles. “Ms. Lane, let me think about it. I’ll give you an answer in two days.”
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Who's the Real Detective Here?

Who's the Real Detective Here?

I quit and dipped. City threw a parade. Only Jenna Blake—my oh-so-gifted junior who claimed she could "see through killers' eyes"—lost it. At her celebration banquet, she went full drama queen: "I owe everything to Kate Mercer. Please, bring her back!" I laughed. Cold. Not happening. Last time around, I was the hotshot detective. But every clue I found? She dropped it first like she read my mind. People started saying I was washed. So I went all in—three months, no sleep, cracked a massive trafficking ring. Led the raid myself. She beat me there. Again. Place was cleaned out. Boom. She's the city's golden girl. I'm the clown with no game. Pressure got ugly. My head snapped. I died chasing the last scumbag. Then—bam. I woke up. Same day. Raid morning. Round two.
Short Story · Imagination
2.9K viewsCompleted
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The Pain-Transfer System

The Pain-Transfer System

After I was reborn, the first thing I did was bind my daughter, Maia Howell, and a seriously sick pig to a pain-transfer system. In my last life, when Maia was born, her skin was covered with sores. This caused her so much pain that she would often cry all night. My husband, Bruno Howell, told me he'd found a pain-transfer system that could save Maia, but it could only bind to another woman. For my daughter, I didn't hesitate—I bound the system and shifted Maia's rotten wounds onto myself. When Maia regained her health, Bruno dragged a stranger to me and said, "Claire is the one I've always loved. The part about the system only binding to women? That was a lie to trick you!" Maia shoved me to the ground in disgust and joined them. "Look at you, all covered in sores—how could you even be my mom? I’ll let you in on a secret. The night your daughter was born, Dad swapped me with her. To make you willingly bind to the system with me, I had to call you 'Mom' for ten years! Makes me sick even thinking about it!" They left me locked in the house to starve to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment Bruno was convincing me to bind to the pain-transfer system.
Short Story · Imagination
3.2K viewsCompleted
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Jackpot Heist: Tearing Down the Thieves Who Raised Me

Jackpot Heist: Tearing Down the Thieves Who Raised Me

When I turn 18, my family suddenly strikes gold. Dad makes a fortune in business. We move into a huge house with a driver and a housekeeper. My younger brother, Vincent Becker, is sent to study in Basmar. After that, he graduates and marries a rich heiress. Their partnership makes our family's business soar. I'm the only one who misses my college entrance exam because of stomach cramps, and my parents marry me off to a lonely man in some rundown countryside. He locks me in a basement and hurts me every single day. I crawl my way back home, half-alive, but my parents only look at me with disgust. "Useless brat! How did you not die out there?" Vincent says that he'll take me out to clear my head. Instead, he shoves me in front of a truck. I'm rushed to the ICU with nearly every bone in my body broken. Right before I die, he leans down in his designer suit and whispers in my ear. "Let me tell you the truth before you die. Our family didn't get rich from business. We got rich because of the hundred-million-dollar lottery ticket you bought. "We cashed it behind your back and never told you." I die full of resentment, and right after my death, they sell my organs for 120 thousand dollars. I open my eyes, and suddenly I'm there again—to the very day I bought the lottery ticket.
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