Novel System Novels & Stories

A hell-recycle world within the modern world, designed for death or near-death individuals. With the greenhouse effect resulting in instability in hell, access to hell becomes restricted, and the game keeps the new souls busy while offering them a second chance to return to their lives before death, depending on their performance. A six-digit cash prize is awarded to the winning participants, with rewards ranging from reversed choices and time manipulation to wealth and more. The 100 Doors Challenge System was designed purposely for this world, to keep the growing audience (already existing souls) entertained. Chosen participants must die beautifully at each door. The fancier and more tragic the death, the higher the views. The story alternates between real-world broadcast control rooms, digital death arenas, and fragmented dreamlike worlds designed from Author Willa’s traumas, fears, and regrets and those of the participating ghosts. 100 Doors: Die Fabulously for the Audience. This story contains graphic adult themes, including explicit sexual content, psychological tension, dark humour, trauma, and scenes of coercion and moral ambiguity. It explores mature, disturbing, and emotionally intense situations within a fantasy-system setting. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

One day, billions woke up on an endless highway. One vehicle each. One life each. No exits. Others got scooters, bicycles, or tractors. Jake Maddox got a beat-up motorhome. Level-one zombies have 20 strength. Humans have 5. And Cthulhu monsters lurk in the mist. This isn't a game—it's a slaughter. But Jake has a cheat: Gold Mods. He glances at his status screen and smirks. "Not enough stats? Gold mods to the rescue." [Fuel Tank] + [Infinite] = unlimited fuel. Floor it and leave everyone choking on dust. [Tires] + [Indestructible] = unbreakable, unshakable, unstoppable. No attack gets through. [Motorhome] + [Spatial Folding] = a mobile fortress that fits it all — storage, pool, villa, armory, and more. [Windows] + [One-Way Transparent] = armored steel to the outside, panoramic views from within. Total safety, zero claustrophobia. While others shiver and barter their souls for half a bottle of gas, Jake sits in his climate-controlled motorhome, eating a steaming-hot chicken pie, watching a Cthulhu boss try to break in. His calm response? "That tentacle would taste pretty good grilled." … From Lv.1 Beater Motorhome to Lv.100 Ark of the Old Ages—as long as Jake can imagine it, no mod is off the table. Gold mods. Show me your limits.

When my boyfriend claimed he was the final boss of a horror game, I laughed it off. What kind of terrifying final boss spends every day at home doing laundry, cooking meals, handing over all his money, and constantly clinging to his wife for affection? Then, one day, I entered the horror game myself. The infamous final boss, the one every player feared, pinned me against the headboard, slowly testing the limits of my body. He leaned close to my ear and whispered, “So? Do you believe me now?”

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?

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?

At my wedding with my childhood sweetheart, Zoe Sutherland, I see live comments in front of my eyes all of a sudden. "This is so funny! The male supporting lead doesn't even know that the bride is a fake one! The actual female lead, Zoe, is actually keeping the male lead company in the hospital!" "It doesn't matter who the bride is! The female lead just wants to get married for the sake of her company's funds! After all, this story is about childhood sweetheart losing to the true love who's come out of nowhere!" "The female lead will end up screwing the male supporting lead's life over. Jeez, now I feel a little bad for him." Concealing the shock in my eyes, I go through the rest of the wedding while pretending to be kept in the dark about the truth. I don't want to become the stepping stone that will tie the two main leads together as the cannon fodder who dies a horrible death. Since Zoe doesn't want to marry me at all, I might as well marry the fake bride for real.

In order to stay by Samuel Hudson's side, I decide to give up on the one-billion-dollar reward offered by the system. At the same time, I've used up all of the luck I've accumulated just to trade for a chance to fully heal Samuel's legs. But the price I need to pay is that I have to bind my life force to Samuel's devotion toward me. If he cheats on me physically or emotionally, my soul will be extracted from my body forcibly, leading to my eventual destruction. The moment I go through with the binding process, I find myself hesitating for a moment. But the sight of Samuel kneeling on one knee while proposing to me lovingly makes me believe him. I believe him with my whole heart when he promises to stay devoted to me forever. Because of this, I'm content with being the woman who will endure everything for her lover's sake. So, I tap the "confirm" button firmly. For the next seven years, Samuel and I continue to love each other as passionately as ever. Together, we've overcome countless challenges and survived many low tides together. But on our wedding anniversary, while I'm making soup for Samuel in the kitchen, I begin coughing violently all of a sudden. Soon, I spit out a huge glob of dark blood. Then, I look down to see my body starting to become transparent. In fact, my fingers can no longer touch the glass on the counter. At the same time, alarm bells begin ringing in my mind. [Warning! Samuel's affection level has dropped below the critical threshold. Destruction protocol is now activated.]

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."

On the eve of our wedding, my fiancé, Steven Cooper, suddenly appeared before me with his arms around his first love, Molly Hart. “I love you, and I love Molly too. I’ll still give you the wedding you’ve always wanted, but Molly is the one I’m going to marry.” A sharp pain struck my heart. Just as tears were about to fall, I heard Molly’s thoughts. “What a joke. He keeps offering things that don’t even matter. If he loves me so much, why doesn’t he give me money or buy me a house? “If the system weren’t forcing me to collect affection points from scumbag men, I wouldn’t bother standing here acting out this villainess role with him. “And seriously, with a demand this outrageous, she’s not actually going to agree to it just because she’s head over heels for him, is she? “Even if this is only a pre-wedding test, once she gives in, he'll keep trampling over her boundaries. In the end, she'll be destroyed emotionally and physically, and both she and her baby will lose their lives.” My eyes widened in shock, and the tears instantly disappeared. Maybe I was a little lovestruck, but I definitely didn’t want to die.

I'm the female protagonist of a spicy novel. One day, the system tosses me into an innocuous novel to be reformed. What a joke! I turn to the male protagonist. "Hi there. Want to make out?" He has me thrown behind bars and accuses me of molesting him. Much later, he does even naughtier things than the male protagonists in spicy novels do.