Masamune Kun No Revenge Novels & Stories

Well, I was always surrounded by guys since they were instrumental in our vengeance plotting, but I was not really interested in any of them. I recall from my childhood that I had to devote my time and energy to exercising and increasing my stamina on a daily basis. Boys were never only a source of disruption in our plans. I couldn't allow myself to be disturbed. All of a sudden, a hazy memory of my very first rejection came flooding back to me. “Kick harder, Av! How would you kill a bear with that kick? Harder!”

We were lovers before but now everything changed. The moon goddess gave me another chance to come back to life to heal and survive, to avenge my death and my grandmother's. "Get your filthy hands off me, you fool," I said but he refused to take his hands off. He smiled at me and he looked just like a monster. A devil. "I miss you." He whispered and brought his lips closer. Gross! Why is he trying to kiss me? I spat on his face and he moved away immediately m Spitting was my only form of defense now. My only defense mechanism. What was he thinking? That I would allow him to molest me? To assault me?

Seeing him with the ridiculous ex-girlfriend of the man she'd been in love with, a woman she clearly considered inferior to herself in every way, as that recording had made very clear, must be like death to Suzan's ego. Yep, Logan couldn't have been more correct when he'd said they'd be bothered to see them together. And, more than that, she herself didn't expect to feel a little pleased to see those expressions on their faces. It was still far from lessening the pain caused by everything they had done, by everything she had heard, by all those horrible feelings that still haunted and overwhelmed her, making her feel like she was nothing... But there was still, yes, a bit of contentment in k

The sympathy Camille felt a moment ago was long gone. Warriors came closer in case anyone would like to attack their Queen. - I can see you are doing great. - Camille smirked. Her words made a few witches hiss, but she did not bother to look at them. - You had your fair share in bringing us to this state. - The witch who spoke about revenge looked at her. - I am sorry, but who are you? - Camille glanced at her with curiosity. This one could be the most dangerous. - Callista. - There was a short answer.

Reborn At Eighteen A smile appeared on her face as she waited for the pain. THUD! As her body collided with the ground, Amira suddenly gasped and woke up from the bed. She wiped the cold sweat from her forehead and stared at her hands in disbelief. She clearly died from the fall and could still feel some lingering pain in her bones. How could she be completely fine now?. Wait a minute. She looked around and found that the room looked familiar. The old bookshelf, the broken window, the old bedbug-infested bed—this was her home in the small village where she lived with her grandpa.

I could see the gears turning in his mind, as if he was calculating the next move, trying to figure out how he fit into this puzzle of revenge I was laying out. He took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing slightly. “So, since you’ve made up your mind about this revenge thing,” he said, his voice calm, but I could sense the weight behind his words. “Do you have a plan to accomplish it, or are we flying blind here?” I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I have a plan… sort of,” I admitted, biting my lip. “Before I was reborn, the Moon Goddess told me a few things. She gave me some guidance, a path to follow.”

"Then I'm going to start from scratch. I'm going to build my way up and make sure I get my revenge. I'm not just going to sit around and wait for them to catch me again while nursing their betrayal." She sighed. "Fine. What are you planning to do?”

Samarth said, his voice low and even, yet laced with a hint of menace. Kumar's face twisted in dismay. "This is wrong, Samarth. You're letting your desire for revenge consume you." Samarth's expression turned glacial, his voice roughening. "I'm not here to be lectured, Kumar. I know precisely what I'm doing." Kumar recognized the futility of reasoning with Samarth, whose eyes blazed with an unyielding thirst for vengeance. His hands seemed to tremble with anticipation, as if craving the warmth of blood coursing through his veins.

Serena sneered coldly, staring at the face she once loved so deeply. It had been love at first sight back then. But now, when she looked at him, her heart was calm—untouched, unshaken. The greatest sorrow is when the heart dies. The true opposite of love isn’t hate—it’s indifference. And that’s exactly what she felt for him now. No anger. No pain. Just silence. The Art of Revenge was never about rage—it was about letting go. She didn’t need to destroy them. Her joy was the masterpiece. And they would suffer, helplessly, watching her shine.

Greedy. He stole my father’s idea and ordered my parents’ deaths. I hate him. And everything that revolves around him. I wanted to kill him. I still do. But my uncle told me that the best way to hurt someone is to take revenge on their loved one. Xander Black is the apple of his father’s eye—his weakness. And the key to destroying him.