Manga System Novels & Stories

As the male lead, Henry Johnston, forces himself on me, a row of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Henry is about to misunderstand and think Aria drugged him! The angst is about to begin!" "I'm thrilled just thinking about Henry regretting dearly after Aria dies!" "Keep up the act, Henry. After she dies, you'll be hugging her corpse and crying every day." That is when I realize that I am the tragic female lead in a story where I am destined to be tormented until I die. The readers treat my death as a highlight to push the plot forward. They are counting down to my death. As I look at Henry, who is panting on top of me, anger courses through me. I grab a table lamp and smash it into him, killing him on the spot. Who says that the one who dies in a toxic romance story must always be the female lead?

I opened my eyes to a dark, windowless room. Overhead, a voice crackled from the speakers. “Welcome to The Judgment Room. Each player will state the crime they committed. Do not lie. After all six of you speak, you will vote. The one with the most votes will be eliminated. “The game starts now.” In this deadly game, whose sins weighed the least?

I have an ability in which I can see the countdown to someone's emotional departure. The day Dad's countdown hits zero, he leaves behind divorce papers and abandons Mom and me. The day my best friend's countdown hits zero, she finally dumps her jerk of a boyfriend. I'm always terrified of seeing a countdown appear above Levi Hammond's head. But thankfully, seven years into our marriage, his head is still clear. I am thankful every day that I married a good man. However, when he picks me up from work last month, I look up and see bright red text burning into my vision. [702 days, 14 hours, 22 minutes.] That's less than two years from now. My heart clenches, and I frantically search for answers in my head. Have I done something wrong? Has he changed his mind? Things don't fall into place until our anniversary, when we run into his intern, Belinda Manning, outside his office building during a torrential downpour. She's soaked to the skin, but she still has a bright smile on her face. Levi hands her a pack of tissues to dry off, his face unreadable. However, in that instant, the countdown suddenly jumps. [327 days, 4 hours, 47 minutes.] The number of days has dropped by more than 300. The sound of rain is deafening in my ears. But I know now that I have found the reason for it.

Nathan Carter was famous in high society for being completely devoted to his wife. All because I had an almost obsessive need to control him. Not only did he have to video call me every five minutes to check in, but every morning when I woke up, I expected a five-thousand-word love letter waiting for me. The first time he was a minute late checking in, my paranoia spiraled out of control, and I bombarded him with ninety-nine voice messages, threatening to kill myself. He transferred me one million dollars, dropped to his knees, and swore it would never happen again before I reluctantly forgave him. His voice softened as he leaned closer, trying to kiss me. Suddenly, a flood of comments exploded across my vision. [Exactly! Once Quinn catches HIV, he should dump her. A villainess like her deserves to get sick, lose the baby, and die a miserable death!] [Who could put up with a crazy woman like her? If she hadn't pushed the male lead so hard, he never would've slept around and contracted HIV!] [When is the female lead finally going to show up? I can't wait for her and the male lead to heal each other and get their happily ever after!] I looked at Nathan, who had already taken off his shirt, his breathing heavy. I hurriedly grabbed a towel from the side and wrapped it around myself. "Honey, I'm suddenly not feeling very well. Don't you have a meeting to get to? You should go. I don't want to keep you from work."

His urge to sleep with any beauty he laid his eyes on, never stops. He loves women's body. He loves to explore and the reactions his pleasuring brings from them, makes him feel whole. He's a Playboy, a jerk, the worse boyfriend ever. He knew all this himself, but couldn't stop. ****** "The last thing I remembered was being stabbed in the stomach by my girlfriend, but now where am I? Why am I inside the body of a baby? What language are they speaking? "Congratulations host, you're chosen by the pain and pleasure system. I'm happy to embark on this journey with you" "Okay, now what is that voice in my head?" ****** His wish came to pass, because now he got a system who will make all his wish to experience pleasuring, come to pass. His wish to play around, but this comes with punishments after each failure. That's where the 'pain' comes in. It comes with adventure and involves completing seduction mission. Would he be up to this task? Would he realized it was more of being punished than how he finds it as sexual paradise? ***** Explore this crazy idea with me if the story is up to your taste. **** Join Author discord server: https://discord.gg/Q7tY3F8

To stay by the side of award-winning actress Victoria Quinn, I gave up the system's one-billion-dollar cash reward. I also drained every last one of my luck points to make her paralyzed legs heal. The price was that my life became bound to her loyalty. If she ever betrayed me, emotionally or physically, my soul would be ripped from my body and erased completely. At the moment of binding, I hesitated. But when I looked into her eyes and saw the depth of her love, I believed her. I believed her when she said, "Out of all the people in the world, I only want you." So I chose to become the man who stood silently behind her, giving everything without complaint, and I pressed confirm. For seven years, we loved each other as deeply as we had in the beginning. Hand in hand, we weathered every storm together. Until our wedding anniversary. I was in the kitchen making her favorite soup when I suddenly coughed violently and spat out a large pool of black blood. Then I looked down and saw my fingers slowly turning transparent, so faint that I could no longer even touch the glass in front of me. At the same time, a piercing alarm rang through my mind. "Warning. Bound target's love value has fallen below the critical threshold. Erasure protocol activated..."

In the third year after my death, the one who remained faithfully by my wife's side was still the bionic robot I had painstakingly designed. It looked exactly like me and carried within it every detail of my mannerisms, speech, and habits. The only difference was that it never lost its temper with her. Because of that, my wife never sensed anything amiss. Yet each night, she brought home a different man, deliberately testing "me," desperate to see the wild jealousy and rage I once wore so vividly. Then, one day, her childhood sweetheart and first love, shoved "me" off the balcony. It was only then, in her horror, that my wife realized… "I" didn't bleed.

I suspected my husband was a detached ascetic. Every night, he'd skip to the backyard, muttering prayers under the stars instead of sharing our bed. When I slipped into something slinky, he'd frown and clutch his prayer beads like a lifeline. Now I was done with the cold shoulder, slapping a divorce agreement in his hands. That was when his thoughts started leaking into my head. "She touched me. Her hands are like silk. I'm dying to kiss her. When is she gonna be okay with me being a snake? I just want to cuddle her." "A snake?" I thought. "Does that mean he's packing two things? I have to find out." I leered at his chiseled frame, practically drooling. Before divorcing, I needed to test his things and my limits. I tripped purposefully and fell onto his toned pecs, ready to test the waters. "Whoops!" I gasped, setting the stage.

I had been dating Lily Foster for three years, and she strictly insisted on splitting every expense. When my mother needed surgery and I was short twenty thousand dollars, she looked troubled. “Aaron, we agreed on financial independence.” I went everywhere trying to borrow money, while she turned around and bought her brother a Ferrari outright. When I confronted her, she answered without a hint of guilt. “That’s my money. What does it have to do with you? “And besides, you’re a man. You can’t always expect a woman to support you, right?” Her brother drove the sports car right up in front of me, showing off. “My sister said it herself—your money is her money, but her money is still hers.” I laughed. Because just a moment ago, I had activated the “Malice Cashback” system. For every trace of hostility someone directed at me, I would receive a hundredfold cash return. Lily stood in front of me, frowning in disgust. “What are you laughing at? You look like an idiot.” [Ding! Received 20 hostility points from Lily Foster. Cashback of $2,000 has been credited.]

I have the potential to win the championship of the math competition, and yet I hand in a blank answer sheet during the exam. In my previous lifetime, I was known as the math prodigy. But no matter which competition I participated in, my boyfriend's childhood friend, Alyssa Ford, would always score an extra 20 marks more than my score. I refused to believe that Alyssa could best me all the time, so I performed extraordinarily well in the math competition. Just as I thought I'd come out as the champion, Alyssa still scored 20 marks more than my current score. Thanks to her outstanding results, she stole the title that was supposed to be mine. Since I couldn't become the champion, I lost the prize money the school had promised to give me. Naturally, I broke down emotionally because I planned on using the money on my parents' life-saving surgery for their cancer. My parents ended up dying in the end. Unable to handle the blow, I took my life shortly afterward. Even when I breathed my last, I could never figure out why Alyssa could score 20 marks more than my scores no matter how hard I tried. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day before the math competition is to take place.