Male Rivals Yandere Simulator

I've invested in my cousin, Jack Glenwood's farm. His net profit is more than four million dollars per year. On the day I'm supposed to receive my bonus, Jack tears the contract stating that I get a 55% profit share right in front of my family. After that, he transfers 40 thousand dollars to me. He even has the audacity to pat me on the shoulder with a smile on his face. "Noah, you never did anything throughout the year. Since I'm giving you 40 thousand dollars, that means I'm treating you well, right?" I just smile as I look at Jack's greedy and despicable expression. Then, I accept the 40 thousand dollars without saying anything. The next day, I cut off the secret formula to the farm's feed and travel overseas to carry out a new round of investments. This time, I want to see how Jack will fare without my secret formula.

During my vacation, I'm in the middle of a riverside stroll with my wife, Wendy Summer, when I suddenly hear someone screaming. "Please! Save my drowning son!" Before I can regain my senses, Wendy, who's pregnant, quickly pushes the crowd apart and rushes toward the center of the conflict. "I'm a doctor, so I can help save the patient. I'll perform CPR on him right away." As Wendy speaks, she moves to lean over the patient. But that's when I grip her by the wrist tightly. "You're not allowed to save him. If you dare administer CPR to him, we'll get a divorce." Wendy stares at me in shock. "Have you gone nuts? Healing the sick and treating the injured is a doctor's duty! You're a doctor as well, Rowan! How could you say such things?" The onlookers begin admonishing me. "If you don't heal the sick and treat the wounded, then what sort of doctor are you? You're just an unethical bastard!" "I can't believe doctors like you still exist! You have no right to remain as a doctor! I'm going to record your actions and upload the video to the Internet!" I say firmly to Wendy, "We shall not be discussing this matter. If you save him, we'll get a divorce right away!"

I'm a medical miracle by nature. My blood is a natural antidote that can cure various poisons. When Miriam Wiley, the unmaterialistic heiress of the upper crust, gets bitten by a venomous snake, her life goes into countdown. At the critical juncture in my previous life, I slit my wrist and bled in order to help her cure the poison. After saving Miriam's life, I found out that whoever saved her would become the future son-in-law of the Wiley family. But the first thing Miriam did after inheriting her family fortune was to drain me of my blood. "Back then, Cedric was already rushing to me with a special drug! If I could wait for five more minutes, I'd be able to marry him! "You just had to interfere with my plan by stealing the position of the son-in-law from him! You made him slit his wrist and take his own life out of despair! "You claimed that your blood is an antidote to all the poisons in the world, right? I'd like to see how many antidotes I can actually produce from your blood!" After I got my blood drained, I was tossed into a cage filled with predators. My corpse ended up being battered and broken. As for my parents, they took some poison and ended their own lives after the Wileys forced them into bankruptcy. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Miriam gets poisoned. Her mother, Verna Seymour, looks at me expectantly. "I heard that you're a medical miracle. Are you willing to save my daughter's life?" I quickly turn her down. "Those are just rumors, Mrs. Wiley. Besides, it's unsanitary to use blood as a form of antidote. You don't have to worry, though. I heard that Mr. Campbell is rushing toward this place with a special drug as we speak. Surely Ms. Wiley will live to see the day!" I'm starting to look forward to the outcome. Without my antidote, Miriam can forget about inheriting her family fortune. In fact, it'll be a miracle if she can live for an extra month.

"Quinn, I accidentally hit someone when I was driving earlier. I think… I think it was your son!" The day after my friend, Owen Jolin, gets his driving license, he insists on driving to the kindergarten to pick up his son by himself. I advise him to spend a few more days practicing his driving skills, seeing as that road is always packed with trucks. But he just rolls his eyes at me. "Don't worry about me. I'm super good at driving, you know!" After that, he stomps on the gas pedal and speeds away in his car. But a short while later, he calls me on the phone, and he sounds extremely frightened. He tells me that he has hit someone outside the kindergarten. He said the child is completely drenched in blood, and he somehow looks like my son, Elliot Shelby. I'm stunned, to say the least. Elliot has come down with a fever today, so he's skipped school for the day. Then… who on earth did Owen kill?

When I'm on my break, I decide to help my neighbor, Yvonne Cook, fix the gas valve, which has been leaking gas. But she instantly lodges a report, saying that I've gone against the rules. She demands compensation for the shock that she's suffered as well. I don't bother defending myself. Instead, I just write a reflection report. After that, my squad leader sentences me to disciplinary confinement. Yvonne wastes no time gloating in the tenants' group chat. "It's time to teach these power-abusers a good lesson, anyway!" Three days later, a fire breaks out in Yvonne's apartment. Thick plumes of dark smoke keep rising from the burning apartment. Yvonne wails as she bangs on my door and pleads with me. "Please crack open the door and put out the fire!" I can only sigh from behind my front door. "I'm under disciplinary suspension right now, so I can't break protocol. You should wait for the fire truck instead."

One day, I come across a post on the Internet. The original poster keeps boasting about the fact that all three children belonging to his older brother are actually his spawn. "The funniest thing is, there was once when he suspected the origins of his children. So, he got someone to take the children to take a paternity test. "Guess who he ordered? That's right—it's me, his most trusted younger brother! I get to sleep with his wife whenever I want. The money he earns all goes to my sons. This means he's working for me for the rest of his life! "Just the thought of that makes me happy to no end! Ahahaha!" But the thing is, I'm the older brother who's mentioned in the post.

On our seventh year anniversary, my girlfriend, Rachel Winters, forces me to drink a glass of drugged champagne before dumping me onto the bed of an 80-year-old widow. "It's Bryon's first time attending a business meeting. He's still pure and oblivious, so he doesn't know how to satisfy an older widow's insatiable desire. "I have no choice but to ask you to seal this business deal on his behalf. Think of this as your way of helping me repay Bryon's family for raising me since young. "Don't worry, Corey. No one will know about this." After that, Rachel turns off the lights and leaves the room while ignoring my pleas for help. But the next day, the video of me and the widow going at it is spread across the Internet. My colleagues look down on me for resorting to such underhanded methods just to get promoted. They can't believe that I'm able to stomach the idea of sleeping with an 80-year-old widow. Thanks to the video, the company's reputation is greatly affected. Rachel holds a press conference immediately to address the issue. I thought she'd defend me, but I didn't expect her to change her tune. "I've already discussed this matter with the Dalton family. Corey Dalton shall take responsibility for what he's done to the widow. As for me, I will get engaged to Bryon Parson." I feel as though lightning has struck me on the spot. I've founded this company with Rachel and has stuck by her side through thick and thin, resulting in us rising as the new-time business moguls. But in the end, she decides to ditch me. "Corey, if you really want to stay by my side, you can remain as my side piece. In exchange, I'll help you shake that old woman off your tail." As I meet Rachel's smug gaze, I shake my head decisively. "I've already thought things through and decided that I'll be marrying the widow."

My in-laws, Melvin Gardner and Sharon Murphy, kept it a secret from us and traveled all the way to Metoville to surprise their daughter, Vivian Gardner. I brought them to the restaurant where Vivian worked as head chef, thinking she would give them a proper welcome and a great meal. However, Vivian called over her favorite pretty-boy apprentice, Tyler Lambert, and had him handle a batch of wild-harvested oysters from the deep sea. These rare specimens were notorious because they may carry Tetrodotoxin if not purged with extreme precision—a high-stakes task that even the seasoned chefs usually avoided. Tyler frowned and whined at her, "Oh come on, Chef, these oysters are so tricky to prepare. I'm not sure I can handle them..." Vivian just laughed it off. "Just give them a quick rinse, and you're done. They're just a couple of old country folks. There's no need to fuss." Melvin and Sharon ate the oysters. Within ten minutes, they were foaming at the mouth and collapsed on the table. When Vivian rushed over, she did not even bother to look at the two elderly people. Instead, she was busy comforting Tyler, who had gone pale and fallen into her arms. She said, "If they got food poisoning, send them to the hospital. But make sure they sign a liability waiver before they leave." She glanced at me casually, her tone suggesting the poisoned elderly couple had nothing to do with her. "Your parents are from the countryside, so they're probably not used to city food. Don't try to pin this on the restaurant or Tyler!" It hit me that she still had not realized the people who had collapsed at the table were her own parents. I looked at her helplessly and confirmed, "Are you sure you want to clear 'Tyler' of all responsibility?"

On the day I get buried alive by the avalanche, my biological older sister, Whitney Linder, cuts off the safety rope wrapped around my waist in order to save Cameron Linder, the fake heir who has replaced me all these years. The snow is about to cover my head, and I can feel my warmth rapidly draining from my body. In despair, I begin screaming at Whitney. "Don't leave me behind, Whitney! Otherwise, my adoptive father's subordinates will settle the score with you by blasting the entire mountain into pieces!" Over the years since I get accepted back into the elite Linder family, I've been keeping up a cowardly and docile facade. Never have I ever mentioned my adoptive parents, who live abroad. Because of that, the Lindens have no idea that the married couple who have adopted me are actually the leaders of an international mercenary squad. My adoptive dad is a legendary sniper, whereas my adoptive mom is a demolitions expert. I'm the apple of the entire squad's eye. But Whitney pulls back the severed rope with a cold chuckle. "Keep dreaming, Skylar! You're just a country bumpkin who lies all the time, so you definitely don't have any powerful subordinates! You should be grateful to me for taking you here for a skiing trip without complaining about how much you embarrass me in public! "To think that you actually have the guts to fight for a chance of survival with Cameron! Don't you know that he mustn't suffer from any shock at all?" After that, Whitney leaves with Cameron in tow. "Since your adoptive parents are that amazing, why don't you get them to fly over in a helicopter to rescue you?" When the light above my head vanishes, I use what little strength I have to press the red button on the satellite-based GPS. What Whitney doesn't know is that she will die in the mountain once the signal is sent out.

On the day we decided to get a divorce, I saw Miranda’s account book while I was packing up my stuff. Aside from our daily expenses, Miranda had also set up a scoring sheet for me. Miranda had taken notes of all the things I had done ever since we started dating. Some of them were such miniscule things that even I had forgotten. She took note of them all with a red pen, and she scored them by either awarding me points or deducting them. However, the further down the sheet, the more points were deducted. In the end, I saw Miranda add one line in black ink. [He’s no longer the Henry Jones who used to love me: -100]