Overactive Imagination Novels & Stories

It was the twentieth year of the zombie apocalypse. Resources were scarce, but I still used half of my savings to buy flowers to propose to my girlfriend. However, she turned around and linked arms with my brother, telling me arrogantly, "You're just a poor loser who stole someone else's superpower. You're not worthy of me. I'm marrying the real owner of the superpower. He's really strong, so get lost, you simp." I was stunned. The "real owner" she was talking about was my own brother. He could only use his spatial power because I shared it with him. Watching them shamelessly mock me in front of other people, I silently unlinked my brother from the superpower sharing system. Let's see how strong he could be now!

At our college reunion, I let slip about the three great catches I was dating online. One ran a successful law firm, the other was a researcher at a leading institute, while another was an up-and-coming tech mogul on the Forbes list. My so-called best friend, Cassie Young, paused halfway through her plate of ribs. Giving me the side glance, she voiced her sarcasm. “I feel sorry for your future husband. Of all the women he could have, he had to marry someone with a rich history.” I took a sip of my juice and responded, “Honestly, I’m pretty stressed about the whole thing. They are all amazing. I can’t decide between them. Cassie, does anyone tickle your fancy? You can have one.” As her cutlery clattered on the table, Cassie widened her eyes. “A-Are you for real?”

On the day Steven, my husband, died in battle, Luke, my only son, was kidnapped by human traffickers. Wendy, my mother-in-law, cursed at me. My parents blamed me for it. Even the villagers said I deserved it. While I was consumed by grief, Wendy suggested I take in an abandoned baby to continue the family line. Just as I was about to agree to it, words suddenly appeared in front of me. [The villainess wouldn’t ever expect the male protagonist to actually be alive, right? Does she know that he’s with the female protagonist?] [That’s right. Even the news about her son being kidnapped was fake!] I was confused. Before I could make sense of it, I saw more words. [Honestly, the villainess is pretty pitiful. Her husband faked his death because he likes her sister! Even her son isn’t her own flesh and blood.] [That’s not all. The abandoned baby is actually the protagonists’ son! When she brings up the boy and sends him to university, the protagonists will reunite with their son and be a happy family.] [It can’t be helped. It’s her fault for being the villainess. She can only be a stepping stone for the protagonists.] I was stunned. I was only to be a tool for the happiness of Steven and Margaret, my sister? As I carried the abandoned baby I had picked off the road, I sneered. If they wanted me to be their stepping stone, then they could not blame me for playing a little substitution trick.

An unregulated app called "Goddess Hunter" had started spreading through our college. Photos of every young woman in our university had been posted there. Anyone could anonymously rate them and leave comments. I had stumbled upon it by accident. That was when I found out I was ranked first on the "Hunting Board", and under my photo were obscene comments and bets. Worse, the app had real-time location tracking! No matter where I went, a group of young men would follow me around, whistling and pointing at me. I reported it to the university's administration, but nothing came of it. They simply said they couldn't find the developer. The next day, my "Hunting Quest" was posted. [Quest Target: Rip off Sinead Hill's skirt. Reward: One thousand dollars.]

I'm a bad-luck magnet in showbiz. Every guy who gets paired with me for publicity ends up with his image wrecked and career destroyed. And somehow, I still just want to fall in love. I finally landed a romance game endorsement, but I had no idea I'd accidentally wandered into a horror game. During the beta test, I threw myself straight into the BOSS's arms—a general. "My love, I missed you so much!" He froze in shock, his mangled hand moving toward the sword at his waist. I shyly stopped him. "Wow, slow down. We literally just met, and you're already trying to take your pants off?"

Just when I was about to step through airport security for my Around-the-World trip, I heard the twins in my womb, a boy and a girl, shouting. 'Mom! Can you stop thinking about going to have fun? The whole world is going to become a frozen block of ice in a month! You're still thinking about flying around at a time like this? Don't be silly!' 'My brother's right! Hurry home and stock up on food and medicine already! Renovate our mansion! Turn the garden into food storage! Turn the swimming pool into a reservoir!' My heart skipped a beat, and the milk in my hand spilled all over the floor. The passenger behind me urged me impatiently, "Can you hurry up? You're holding everyone up." I ignored him. Instead, I turned around and called my assistant. I also gave him another order. "Get me ten thousand pounds of grains and five thousand pounds of pork belly. The ones with the skin on. I want them now!" From that moment on, Kirsten, the woman in Harbor City who only knew how to burn money and fly all over the world, changed. She became Kirsten, ruler of the frozen wasteland.

I have just fallen asleep after working around the clock, but my mom insists on dragging me to the supermarket first thing in the morning. Having mistaken us for sisters, the cashier compliments Mom for her youth and looks. But after Mom explains to her smilingly that we're mother and daughter, the cashier's eyes go wide in disbelief. With mixed feelings, she says, "You… You look more like the daughter, though…" That remark leaves me shell-shocked for a moment. Then, I turn around to stare at my and Mom's faces in the mirror. Mom has such smooth and supple skin that she looks like a 20-year-old college student. Meanwhile, there's me, looking like a 50-year-old hag because of the freckles and dark spots covering my face. Mom's smile vanishes instantly. "How dare you speak that way! Are you saying that my daughter looks old?" Since I don't have a good night's sleep, I become uncontrollably pissed. Just as I'm about to curse at the cashier, I catch a glimpse of the crow's feet around Mom's eyes disappearing rapidly from the corner of my eye.

I'm the primary surgeon of the nation's biggest medical malpractice case. Apparently, I've screwed up intentionally in a joint surgery that leads to the instant deaths of five patients. My wife, Wanda Johnson's mother is one of them. The medical world purges my name immediately. The Internet demands that I pay the price with my own life. The patients' families kneel before the court with a petition. With tears running down my cheeks, they plead to the court to sentence me to death. In order to ease the public outrage, the court decides to euthanize me. The head of the investigative team of the health department wants to activate Project Nightingale. With the power of AI, the truth of what happened in the surgery will be re-enacted. But Wanda, who also works as a police officer, shoots that idea down. "There's no need for that. Do you actually want the patients' families to witness how their loved ones die again? The youngest patient is just an eight-year-old, you know! Let's just euthanize him!"

When I was born, the nurse handed me over to my parents, and the smiles on their faces instantly vanished. Hovering over their son's smooth head was a line of numbers that no one else could see. 6570 days. It was exactly 18 years. Not a day more, not a day less. The nurse thought they were just nervous first-time parents, but my parents knew the truth. That number was my lifespan. While everyone else in the delivery room was celebrating a new life, my parents were staring at my death. For the next 18 years, I was the most precious person in the family. No matter how poor we were, the eggs were always mine, the new clothes were always mine, and the meat was always mine. My younger sister could only look on enviously. My parents often told her, "Let your brother have it. He doesn't have much time left." I was well-behaved from a young age, never causing trouble, quietly waiting to die. On my 18th birthday, I blew out the candles and said a sincere goodbye to the world. The next day, my parents and sister, dressed in black clothes, walked into my room with swollen eyes. I rubbed my eyes, smiled at them, and said, "Good morning." The air froze. The sadness on their faces slowly turned into astonishment, then coldness.

I suffered from severe skin hunger syndrome. Every waking moment, I wanted to cling to Charles Hansen. At night, I craved his touch even more obsessively. In Oakhaven's social circle, everyone knew me as the clingy, brainless rich wife. When I once again insisted on tagging along on Charles's business trip, a series of floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [The cannon-fodder wife is at it again. She just has to follow him and ruin this client meeting too. The moment the male lead comes back, he finally files for divorce.] [She's unloved by both parents, emotionally unstable, and suffers from skin hunger syndrome. In the end, she develops depression and dies alone beneath a bridge.] [Good thing our heroine saves the deal and helps the male lead secure the client. This is also when he starts falling for her.] [I can't wait for the romance arc! Cold CEO x secretary is such a perfect pairing. Can this annoying side character disappear already?] I slowly looked toward Daisy Allen, the secretary waiting by the door to leave on the trip with Charles. Then, for the first time, my arms loosened from around him.