Modern World-system

On my birthday, Rowan Shore ditches me for the 99th time to run to his suicidal true love. I tell the system, "I'm done with this mission. I've had enough." For years, I have tried every trick in the book, but I can't win Rowan's heart. The system says that if I die in this world, I'll return to my original one. The first time, I slit my wrists in the bathroom. Rowan kicks the door down, sends me to the hospital, and berates me for using self-harm to snare his attention. The second time, I swallow an entire bottle of sleeping pills. He bursts in at the last moment and sobs while holding me. He says he knows he messed up. There's still a third time, a fourth time, and more, right?

To cure our daughter's pancreatic cancer, I made a deal with the System, trading the rest of my life for a miracle drug. My husband called me insane to my face, but secretly gave the medicine to his mistress to treat her facial scar. When I was falling apart in despair, he had the audacity to explain: "Vicky has dreams of becoming a star. She's already 24, she can't wait any longer. "Besides, didn't you get that drug by sleeping around? How could a housewife like you possibly get such high-end medicine on your own? If you want to save our daughter, why don't you go whore yourself out again? It's not like it'll kill you, right?" But the truth is, I really don't have another life to trade for another dose.

Caleb Finley tells me he wants to have a child with me during the year when our love is at its strongest. I agree, but that very same night, I fake my death and make my escape, becoming his first love who meets an early death. Six years later, the system seeks me out, on the verge of a breakdown. "Ms. Rockworth, Mr. Finley told me to let you know that your son has just entered the operating room. Do you want to visit him?" "I never gave birth to his child," I answer calmly. The system breaks down even more. "He lost his mind and suddenly turned evil on the night you faked your death. To maintain the balance of the world, we gave him a child who has both your genes. "Now that he has completely gone insane, he told me to tell you that you must meet with him today. If you don't, he'll remove your son's oxygen tube."

My girlfriend, Clara Sutton, had severe mysophobia. Before every intimate moment we shared, she required me to disinfect myself thoroughly in advance. She even set strict rules about how often we could kiss or sleep together, and how long it could last. Without her permission, I was not allowed to touch her. I had always believed she treated everyone this way. I even secretly felt relieved, thinking that I must have been somewhat special to her. Then came that night at the bar. During a party, her childhood friend, Ethan Ford, drew a dare in a game of truth or dare. Then, in front of everyone, he leaned in and kissed Clara. Although it was supposedly a punishment for losing, they kissed deeply for a full five minutes. Our friends laughed and jostled one another as they turned to look at me. Only then did I realize that Clara’s obsession with cleanliness had never been a universal rule. It had existed simply because she did not like me. Disheartened, I asked for a breakup. But Clara soon regretted it. With reddened eyes, she begged me not to leave.

The day Kris Flynn forced me to sign the divorce papers, a self-destruction system wired itself into my brain. The system ordered, [Slap him hard. Then, tell him to get out.] It startled me. Kris was ruthless by nature. If I dared to get in the way of him getting back together with his first love, he would make my life a living hell. Unfortunately, the system threatened me. [If you don’t start sabotaging your life this instant, you’ll die right now.] Without any choice, I slapped him. Fear overtook me as soon as I did it. I bolted straight out of the house. Then, the system gave me a command to smash a police car by the roadside. I was convinced the system was trying to get me killed. However, after I shattered the police car’s side mirror, I realized something. It was not my life that the system wanted me to ruin.

Ich hieß Alaya, und ich war nichts weiter als ein Mädchen wie viele andere, geboren in den Gassen eines Viertels, in dem die Armut dich von Geburt an vergiftet. Meine Mutter war krank. Sie hatte nur mich … und ihre Schulden. An jenem Abend kamen sie. Sie klopften an die Tür. Drei Männer in Schwarz. Kein Wort. Nur ein Umschlag … und ein eiskalter Satz: — »Du bist doch noch Jungfrau, oder? Der Chef zahlt teuer dafür.« Ich hatte keine Wahl. Er hieß Santino Ricci. Kalt. Magnetisch. Gefährlich. Das Oberhaupt einer der mächtigsten Mafiafamilien Italiens. Er sah mich an, wie man eine kostbare Ware ansieht. Dann sagte er: — »Du wirst meine Frau. Egal, was du fühlst.« Und ich unterschrieb mein Urteil. Diese Hochzeit war keine Verbindung … sondern ein goldener Käfig. Ich lernte, inmitten von Schlangen zu überleben. Ich sah Tote. Ich sah Blut. Ich hörte die Schreie von Mädchen, die, genau wie ich, verkauft worden waren. Aber was sie nicht bedacht hatten … war, dass die kleine, zerbrochene Jungfrau am Ende zurückbeißen würde.

In the year 2020, the world faced Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome Coronavirus 2, and took several years to slowly recover from its immense effect. Thirty years after, another virus rose and affected the world's population in just a few weeks. The health workers couldn't determine what exactly the virus is, its type, and the way it is being passed from person to person despite the advanced and improved technology. Because of this and the sudden virus outbreak, the World Health Organization assigned Richforte Medical Team for a research mission for the virus and find a cure for it as soon as possible. Would they be able to accomplish this mission if, in the next few hours, the world would have what they called Zombie Apocalypse?

Everyone in Oceanton knew that mob boss Jared Pierce was deeply in love with me. No one feared my disappearance more than he did. Even if bullets were raining down on him, he'd still find a way to contact me, just to make sure I felt safe. But on the night before our wedding, he didn't come home. When he finally returned, he dropped to his knees, a bruised and weakened woman cradled in his arms. "Rosalia! Melody took the drug just to save me! I can't just watch her die! So I had no choice but to sleep with her." Terrified that I wouldn't forgive him, Jared drew six wounds into his arm. Blood soaked through his shirt in an instant. As soon as the wedding banquet ended, I heard his men chuckling and teasing. "The boss didn't even take off his wedding outfit before rushing to see Melody. Just how seductive is his lover?" Jared’s low, sultry voice followed. "Last time I stayed with her, I didn’t come back for three days and nights. Take a guess." In shock and despair, I called out the system. "I want to leave this world!" The system's cold voice replied, "After your exit, this world will erase all traces of your existence. Counting down… Seven days."

In the tenth year of my pursuit of Henry Stone—the profoundly devoted deuteragonist in the novel—he arranges a lavish, extravagant wedding on my behalf. I still feel uneasy even though Henry continues to love me deeply after we get married. This is because the mission progress bar displayed by the system has never moved past zero. On our wedding anniversary, I happen to stumble upon a hidden diary in Henry's desk drawer, which reveals a very shocking truth—Henry has been reborn. He possesses full knowledge that this world is a novel and that I am the antagonist who poses a threat to the protagonist, Renee Schmidt. He puts on a careful act of profound love toward me, strictly for the purpose of shielding Renee, the person he truly cares for. I have just gotten the gist of the whole situation when the system's warning goes off. "You have failed your romance mission. Your existence will be terminated within 48 hours."

Once I became pregnant, I was hailed as the most precious woman in the underworld. My husband, the new Don of the Jenkins family, shut down an entire private hospital wing for my check-ups, while my father, the Collins Don, summoned every Michelin-starred chef in New York to the estate, just so I could pick whatever I craved. The baby I carried was destined to be the sole heir of the two most powerful mafia families. But on the day we were to sign the papers securing my child's inheritance, they both vanished. "An urgent family matter came up," my husband, Vincent, said, kissing my forehead. "We can finalize the child's inheritance when we get back. There's no rush." Shortly after they left, I received a link to an anonymous live stream. My father's voice came from the video, colder than I had ever heard it. "You're saying your marriage contract with Evangeline was never valid. Doesn't that make the child a bastard?" Vincent, lounging in a club, blew a smoke ring. Cradled in his arms was my half sister, Sarah. "Evangeline has always had all the love and affection. Her child will want for nothing." "Sarah has been mocked for her status for years. I have to make things right for her, give our child a legitimate name." In that moment, my heart seized, and I could barely breathe. Then my phone vibrated again. It was a text message: "Welcome home to the Gallo family, my queen." "Just give the word, and the child you carry will bear the Gallo name and become the most powerful heir in the American underworld."