Nintey Nine Lives Novels & Stories

I had a dream while I was sleeping that night. I dreamed of a young girl starting a list of times she was being overlooked in a brand new journal. She wrote down the number "1" on the first page. As she wrote it down, she muttered, "Once this reaches the 99th time, I won't want Mom, Dad, Jeff, and Annie anymore." After that, the girl stared at the number "1" in contemplation, hesitated before changing it to "0.5" eventually. The entries read, "Mom and Dad came back from their business trip and bought me and Annie new clothes, but they got my size wrong. It was too small. My arms and legs were sticking out, and all my classmates laughed at me. I felt so sad."

His condition was stable enough for him to wait till then. Therefore, the so-called 99 final wishes were nothing more than a big fat joke, but so what? Someone was willing to indulge in his whims. "The deposit paid during the initial hospitalization covers the bill. You can collect the remaining balance at the cashier," Jeremy said evenly. Camilla could tell he was telling her to leave. He didn't even want to spend a single second longer with her unless necessary, huh? Well, it wasn't like she was dying to stick around either.

Adrian's breathing became shallow. His eyes reached the final line. Never allow anyone to assemble the Ninth Cipher. If the Ninth Cipher is completed... History will not change. It will be erased. Before he could process those words... His phone rang. Unknown Number. He answered. Silence. Then a calm male voice spoke. "We've been waiting for you, Dr. Vale." The line disconnected. At that exact moment, every television in the apartment turned on by itself. Every screen showed the same image. A black background.

I nodded and agreed. On the last piece of paper, my handwriting was so messy that it was hardly legible. It was as if I'd used up the last of my strength to write it down. "The system told me I'd failed to win Quinn's heart. I have three days left, but that's fine. I can finally stop trying." Quinn's hands shook violently. The papers slipped from between his fingers and scattered all over the floor. It turned out I'd made 99 attempts. Every time, I started off filled with hope. And every time, he personally squashed out that hope.