Marinette Chat Noir の小説・ストーリー

I worked as a caregiver at a psychiatric hospital. One day, during a quiet shift, I came across a post from my husband's widowed sister-in-law. [Just launched my first AI-generated short drama! Hope you'll check it out and support me!] I tapped on the video attached to the post. The villain's face was identical to mine. I immediately messaged her and demanded that she take the video down. Instead, she posted our chat in the family group. Then she added: "If it really bothers you, I'll delete it. It's just a shame my first attempt at starting a business has already failed..." My husband replied almost instantly: "Don't delete it!" Then he tagged me. "So, what if you played a vicious villain? That's called making sacrifices for art." "This is the first business your sister-in-law has ever started. Stop being so dramatic." My mother-in-law chimed in as well: "Your sister-in-law is trying to build something of her own. What's wrong with supporting her?" "What do you mean she used your face without permission? We're family. Why make such a fuss over something so trivial?" "She used all of our faces, and none of us complained. What, do you think your face is worth more than everyone else's?" What they didn't know was that I was an undercover investigative journalist. So yes, my face really was worth more than theirs.

I had always been a little dizzy by nature. My head was often muddled. Three years ago, in that same haze, I picked up a drunk woman and brought her home. She woke up and stared at me for a while before suddenly saying, “Let’s get married.” I did not think much about it. I just nodded and thus became the rich husband of a powerful family. They gave me a credit card that I could use however I liked, and I could live in a luxury house without any limits. We had a son, but alas, he was kidnapped. It took me two years, but I managed to find him again. I was about to tell my wife when she handed me a divorce agreement. “I’m bankrupt. This is my last sum of money. Take it and leave.” At that moment, a few chat messages suddenly appeared in front of me. [Wow! The female lead’s crush, the male lead, has returned to the country!] [She is probably pretending to be bankrupt. She wants to get rid of the male supporting character to go back to the male lead!] [She got drunk back then because the male lead left. The male supporting character was just a stand-in!] What? So I was a replacement? I nodded slowly. “Oh. Then let’s get a divorce.” The light in her eyes went out at once. I looked at her and felt that I had forgotten to say something. Whatever. I would say it when I remembered.

Late one night after getting off work, I was scrolling through my company group chat when a colleague shared a piece of news. The headline was horrifying. "Night-Shift Courier Murdered During Delivery, Police Suspect Robbery." I zoomed in on the crime scene photo that had been partially pixelated, and a chill ran straight down my spine. Lying in a pool of blood, the courier who had been hacked to death was unmistakably me. I had scrolled into news of my own death. Almost at the same time, my delivery app began vibrating violently. "Urgent pickup! Destination: Unit 704 Hawthorne Ridge Apartments, Building 7. Time limit: 15 minutes. Penalty for timeout: Death." As I stared at the notification that read "Pickup failed three times", the searing pain of my brutal death surged through my body. So that was it. I had already died three times. When I forced open the half-closed security door of 704 for the fourth time, a thin delivery envelope lay quietly inside. I tore it open. A photograph slipped out. It was a picture of my dismembered body. The timestamp showed tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. On the back was a single line written in fresh blood: "Next time, remember to pick it up on time." At that moment, the red indicator light on the hallway surveillance camera suddenly went dark. I looked up. From the ventilation opening in the exact same spot, a single eye was staring straight at me. The mole at the corner of that eye was identical to mine.

I've had a crush on Don Luciano Damiani for ten years. Heck, I even agree to his request to sleep with him a thousand times before we finally get to announce our relationship to the world. The locations vary, be it Luciano's private shooting range or the VIP lounge. He uses every trick up his sleeve just to groom me into his personal plaything. Every time we do it, Luciano will kiss me while coaxing the answer out of me. "Do you want our relationship to go public, babe?" I've answered him "yes" 999 times. Of course, he disappoints me 999 times as well. But on the thousandth time, Luciano says, "Cecilia, let's announce our relationship on my birthday, which will be held in two days." Excitement washes over me at that moment. But that's when my best friend, Valentina Fiore, starts a video chat with me. "I lost to Luciano in a racing competition. Yesterday, I had to go to the City Hall to get our marriage registered there. "But he still intends to keep you as his mistress. That's why we shall fight for his affection to the best of our ability on fair grounds. "The next two days shall be our contending period. We'll bet on who matters to Luciano more. The loser will travel to the Republic of Azamir as a war correspondent, whereas the winner gets to attend his birthday party and announce their relationship to the world."

On the Memorial Day weekend, Mason Hayes, the student my wife, Abigail Sullivan, had been sponsoring, insisted on riding with me back to his hometown. My car was small, the drive was long, and the trunk was already packed. There was no way to fit another adult, so I turned him down as politely as I could. That night, Abigail came home and stayed quiet for a long time before finally saying, "He ended up walking along the highway. His feet were torn up." I frowned, trying to make sense of it. "It's a holiday weekend. There are Ubers everywhere. He could've booked one in minutes." She nodded softly, the same gentle expression she always wore, and poured me a glass of water. I drank it. The next thing I knew, everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing under a brutal midday sun on an empty stretch of highway. Abigail leaned into Mason's shoulder, holding her phone up as she livestreamed. There was a faint smile on her lips, but there was nothing warm about it. "You said getting around was easy, right? Why don't you try walking home yourself?" The livestream was packed. The chat flooded with messages, people placing bets on how far I would make it. I looked straight into the camera, ran my tongue over my cracked lips, and said, "Done enjoying the show? Now come and pick me up."

It has been a year since our mate bond formed, but my fated mate Damon Borden has never lost control around me. Even in the height of desire, he will only use toys to help me find release, but he always refuses to let me help him. Despite how much my heart aches, I plan to let him go. Even though he is my fated mate, he doesn't love me. I get a potion from Helena Craw, the witch. This potion will dissolve our mate bond. However, the night before I'm about to take it, I stumble upon Damon in the study, using my photo while venting his desire. He does it again and again while murmuring my name and saying that he loves me. I'm shocked. I want to record the scene with my phone, but I accidentally take Damon's old phone. I tap on his chat records with Helena. "I'm the fated mate of the woman I love, and I love her very much. However, I'm far too strong. What if I hurt her while making love to her?" "How can I restrain my desire and control my strength to please a female wolf?" "If my mate runs off with someone else, how can I overcome my possessiveness and continue to love her?"

I've infiltrated into a private group chat called "The Domestication Project". The group owner is in the middle of spamming her experience of her destroying her husband's mental willpower. "I've secretly swapped out my husband's anti-depressants for something else. Every day, I keep telling him that he's a useless, pathetic loser. Once he's hopelessly dependent on me, I'll have him thrown into a mental hospital and take over his company naturally." All the group members keep praising the group owner for being a total professional in gaslighting her husband. Soon, they start asking for her methods and experience. I tap on the photo of an experimental journal that the group owner has just sent. To my shock, the name listed on the mental health report with a diagnosis of severe depression is actually my own! As for the haughty group owner, she's Sophie Hayes, my wife of ten years! Yesterday, that woman told me with red-rimmed eyes that she'd rather go bankrupt just to cure me of my depression! It turns out that her devotion and love toward me for the past ten years is nothing but a grand yet cruel plot to murder me slowly! Since Sophie wants me to get reduced into a lunatic who has lost all of his marbles, then I shall put on an insane show for her. After that, I lock the doors in the mansion and dump the gasoline that I've just bought all over the living room.

THIS BOOK CONTAINS VOLS. 1 AND 2. THE FIRST IS A YOUNG ADULT BULLY ROMANCE AND A GOOD GIRL, WHILE THE SECOND IS A BILLIONAIRE CEO AND STRIPPER ROMANCE. -- BOOK ONE He owns the school. I barely survive it. When my best friend Matt chooses my bully over me, something in me snaps. Then Lucien Knox Ravenscroft steps in. Heir to Ravenscroft Academy, dangerous, untouchable, and very aware that she is his ex. He offers me a deal: a fake relationship that turns the school upside down. I want Matt to regret everything. He wants revenge for being replaced. Then comes his bet. If Matt notices me again, I win. If not, I’m Lucien’s for as long as he wants me. The more we fake it, the more real it feels. And Lucien never plays soft. BOOK TWO: Aurora Harrison never planned to become Barbie Noir, the most coveted stripper in New York’s elite underground club. But when her mother fell sick, and her father cut her off, she did what she had to survive. Five years later, she dances in the shadows, praying the ghosts of her past never find her. But some ghosts always return. Kai Mercer is no longer the golden boy she once loved. At thirty, he is a billionaire CEO with a secret empire built on desire, power, and sin. The world sees a polished businessman, but behind closed doors, "It's been a long time, Aurora." He rules the city’s most forbidden club, hidden from his father and the public… and from the girl who broke him. Until Aurora walks into his private suite for a twenty-thousand-dollar dance. One look. One whisper. One spark. He wants her back—obsessively, dangerously, completely.

I set up a company cafeteria for employees with an abundant meal daily worth 150 dollars per person. Meals are prepared by a world-renowned master chef. Every day, I only ask my employees to contribute a token of one dollar. Instead of gratitude, all I get is their envy of the neighboring company. "I wish we had that. Their healthy lunches cost them nothing, and the company covers everything." "Yeah. Free salads always seem to taste the best." Before long, this chatter spreads through the office, and the new hires carry it into the company's group chat. "Mr. Shaw, can we switch things up? All this rich, heavy food is just too much for us!" A few of the senior employees quickly jump in. "Yes, Mr. Shaw! We're not asking for anything extravagant. We only want something like the healthy lunches the other company gives out for free!" Perfect. They ignore my lavish 150-dollar meals that cost them almost nothing, yet they pine over the neighboring company's modest lunches. I scroll through the chat, feeling nothing but sharp irony. I immediately send a company-wide email. "Attention, everyone! By popular demand, and so you can all experience a truly free lunch, the cafeteria's daily meal is reduced from abundant to simple starting today. "Snacks and fruit options are discontinued and replaced with the same healthy lunch set offered by the neighboring company. The company will cover the full cost. Enjoy your meal!"

The day I was about to quit the game, countless floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Finally! The villainess is quitting!] [Now Janet Cole doesn’t have to worry about getting exposed for using her account to flirt online.] [The heroine is so smart–she always uses voice chat in-game. The villainess has no idea.] [Janet is living the dream–using her max-level account to juggle five top-tier players at once!] [At 2 PM today, she’s meeting her 'No.1 catch'–the cold, untouchable campus heartthrob Cedric Barnes!] [Assassin god tomorrow, rich scion the day after… her time management is insane!] The Janet they were talking about… was the fake heiress who had taken my place in my own family. She had been impersonating me–using my account to flirt with five elite players at once? Then more comments appeared… [Why hasn’t the villainess left yet? The male lead is already waiting.] [This is the first sweet date between the leads–can’t wait!] I turned to look at Janet, touching up her makeup in front of the mirror–and suddenly, it all clicked. The 'villainess' they were talking about… was me. So the real heiress–me–was nothing more than a disposable side character, a stepping stone for the fake one? A faint smile curled on my lips. If she could impersonate me online and play the field, then me showing up in person and stealing everything... wouldn't be too much, right?