Practice Makes Perfect Artinya Novels & Stories

On the day my boyfriend and I moved into our new home, his ex-girlfriend gave us a mysterious gift. The moment I opened the front door, a swarm of hornets came flying out. I screamed in fright as I felt seven or eight stings from them. His ex, Erica Loft, jumped out from behind the door with a giggle. She shouted, "Surprise! "I went up the mountains to visit a master craftsman. I wanted to get you this specially brewed hornet wine, and I even brought back a hornet's nest for you to decorate your new house with! "Isn't this a great gift?" Erica made a face at us. She was gleeful at the messy predicament I was in. My boyfriend, Joe Fulham, clenched his teeth. He rushed forward to grab Erica by the wrist as he shouted angrily at her. "Are you crazy? Don't you know that hornets are venomous?! Is this really a surprise, or are you trying to hurt us?" I listened to another one of their huge arguments from behind the door, feeling like an outsider in my own relationship. As I felt the stinging pain in my arm, I knew this wedding was about to fall through.

I'm Caleb Jennings. When I announce my early retirement, everyone in the city cheers. Only Nathan Sloan, my junior from the police academy, who claims to be able to see things from the criminal's perspective, panics at the news. During the party organized in his honor, he openly states his intention to find me. "I owe my success to the guidance Caleb Jennings has provided me all along. I hope everyone can help me find him and bring him back into the police force." Scoffing, I choose to ignore that. … In my previous life, I was the celebrated captain of a criminal investigation team. Yet, whenever I uncovered a clue, Nathan, a rookie in the city police department, would announce it first, beating me to it. After multiple incidents like this, everyone started saying that I was past my prime. To prove myself, I worked myself to the bone for three months before finally locating the hideout of a human trafficking ring. However, when I arrived on the scene with my team, Nathan had already swept through the place. He was launched into stardom, becoming the rising star detective that everyone adored. As for me, the public mercilessly tore me apart, labeling me as incompetent and shaming me. Due to the pressure from work and the negative public opinion directed at me, my mind was distracted. I ended up getting killed while hunting down the remnants of the trafficking ring. When I open my eyes again, I find that I'd gone back in time—to the day we launch a raid on the human traffickers' hideout.

When my husband told me to go bungee jumping, I did not scream. I did not cause a scene. I just nodded and said, "Okay." Keep in mind, I was eight months pregnant. I only agreed because I had already lived through this nightmare once before. In my past life, his precious childhood best friend, Lily Lane, had been feeling down. My husband, desperate to be her hero, told her he would make her one wish come true. Her wish? She wanted a partner to go bungee jumping with. My husband was terrified of heights, so he could not do it himself. Instead, he volunteered me. I refused on the spot, obviously. I told them I was not going to strap a harness over a baby bump and jump off a bridge. Lily got upset because I would not go. She went to a bar to drown her sorrows, and things went terribly wrong. Someone spiked her drink, and she was assaulted. She could not handle the trauma. She left a suicide note for my husband that read: "If I hadn't gone to the bar that night, would everything be different?" When my husband read that note, he snapped. He wrapped his hands around my throat. "Why didn't you just go with her?" he screamed, squeezing tighter. "Would it have killed you to just say yes?" He strangled me until everything went black. My unborn baby died with me. However, then, my eyes snapped open. I was back. I was standing right there in the moment my husband was asking me to jump.

Andrea Reeves, the new hire in finance, is all looks and no brains. On payday, she mistypes my wages in the payroll system, sending only one cent to my account. Because of that, my payment fails when I try to buy Mom's life-saving medication, and she dies full of regret. Before I can confront Andrea, she bursts into tears, smudging her mascara and makeup. "Ms. Walton, I'm so sorry. I accidentally sent your pay to the janitor you fired. The one who's a single mom. Can't you just think of her as your other mom?" Norman Halt, the finance director—and my husband—immediately shields her behind him. "Don't blame Andrea. If you didn't have enough money saved up, why are you pretending to be the dutiful daughter now?" I nearly faint from crying so hard. Wracked with guilt, Andrea shows up at the funeral with an entire marching band in tow. The mourning hall turns festive and lively, leaving my family and friends stunned. I lose it and yell at her to leave, but she looks completely hurt. "It's already so tragic that she dies from an illness. I just want to give her a joyful send-off!" Furious, the asthma I've managed for years flares so abruptly that my hands shake as I take out my inhaler. She slaps it away and screams, "How could you use such illegal substances? That's against the law!" Blue-lipped and gasping, I crumple to the ground. In my final moments, I hear Andrea's tearful voice. "This is all my fault. I'm an idiot… I didn't realize it's just medicine…" Norman covers for her. "It's not your fault. Spread the word that Ms. Walton died of grief over her mother's passing." That night, my body is cremated. My death goes silent and unnoticed. When I open my eyes again, it's payday all over again.

The first thing I do after being reborn is secretly keeping six stunning male models behind my wealthy husband’s back. I seduce them and sleep with them for 999 days to get myself pregnant. I do all this because in my past life, my husband found out that he had asthenozoospermia and married me because I am known for being fertile. He wants to carry on the family line so that he will have a successor to inherit the family fortune. I try everything I can to get pregnant, but nothing works. Conversely, my infertile best friend gives birth to twins and triplets within two years after marrying a 70-year-old man. When my wealthy husband hears that my best friend is blessed with children, he is immediately captivated. They get together behind my back and even arrange for someone to run me over with a car when I find out the truth. After my death, I discover that my best friend has bound herself to the child switch system. Any child I am impregnated with is transferred into her womb. My best friend's infertility is transferred to me in return. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day when my husband married me and brought me home. I smile happily when I think about all the things that took place in my past life. My best friend wants lots of children, doesn't she? If so, I will make her experience the joy of having 18 babies in one pregnancy!

After I came back to life, the first thing I did was hand that five-carat diamond ring—yes, the one my husband gave me—to his mother. The very woman who spent years picking me apart like it was her favorite pastime. In my last life, that ring was a custom New Year's gift. He paid a ridiculous amount for it. I actually thought it meant something. One afternoon, I was out shopping when I walked right into a bridal party taking pictures. The bride glanced at my hand, saw the ring, and her entire expression changed. She stormed over and slapped me, accusing me of being a shameless mistress trying to steal her man. I stood there, completely stunned. She was wearing the exact same ring. Before I could explain, her friends grabbed me. They dragged me aside, tore my clothes, hit me, and stomped on my hand until I couldn't move my fingers. They carved the word "mistress" into my face and paraded me through the street like some kind of public disgrace. I died there on the pavement. When my husband finally appeared, he didn't fight for me. He just signed off on a settlement, as if my life were nothing more than a piece of paperwork. Widowed that morning, married to the bride by nightfall. His mother instantly welcomed the new woman, all because she was pregnant. And then I opened my eyes again… back on the very day he first placed that diamond ring in my hand.

While picking up my parcel from the mailroom, I run into Ivan Judd, an underprivileged student from my grade who is working part-time there. While we chat, he finds out that I'd spent 128 thousand dollars during the Black Friday sales. Dumbfounded, Ivan cries, "I've never even seen that kind of money in my entire life! And you're spending it so casually? Did your mom send you to college to study or to blow money like this?" He yanks the parcel out of my hands and physically blocks the exit. "Return it immediately! Kids like you never understand how hard it is for adults to earn money! If you're this wasteful now, what man can afford to marry you in the future?" I can't help but laugh angrily at Ivan's ridiculous attitude. I retort, "What does me spending my mom's money have anything to do with you?" "How does it not?" He looks completely justified when he says, "I'm dating your mom. Every cent you spend counts as our future marital assets!" I am shocked. Isn't Mom a lesbian? Since when did she start liking men?

In my previous life, after my parents divorced, my younger sister Fiona went with my father, Michael, who had a yearly salary of a hundred thousand dollars. Meanwhile, I left with my mother, Jessica, with nothing but the clothes on our backs. However, my father was fired by his company after that. He went bankrupt in an instant and lived in poverty. Meanwhile, my mother started her own business from nothing and ended up being one of the richest in Arman City with a net worth of over a hundred million dollars. Fiona was jealous of me and stabbed me to death the day I was to inherit Jessica's company. When I opened my eyes, I had returned to the day my parents divorced. When I saw Fiona wanting to live with Jessica no matter what, I knew that she had regressed as well. That was fine, though. I never wanted to experience that kind of lowly existence a second time.

I exercised too hard during the day and, by midnight, a sharp pain tore through my stomach. When I checked my pants, there was blood. I called my friend immediately and had him rush me to the hospital. The moment I finished explaining my symptoms, the doctor did not even pause to think before saying, "This is a potential miscarriage. We need to start treatment right away." My eyes went wide. I opened my mouth to protest, but she steamrolled right over me. Her gaze dripped with contempt. "I see dozens of patients every day. I know exactly what you women are like. Probably had abortion after abortion in school with zero self-respect. Now that you're getting older, you want to trap some nice guy into cleaning up your mess." I had never met such an unprofessional doctor in my life. Anger flared in my chest, and I threatened to report her on the spot. She barely blinked. "Touched a nerve, huh? I'm just trying to help you out here. Doctors have it so hard these days. Tell someone the truth and complaints are all you get." The whispers started around me. People staring, judging, pointing. I had truly had enough. Had it occurred to literally anyone that I might just be a guy with long hair?

To scrape together my mother's surgery money, I worked myself to the bone at this company for three straight years. My performance was always number one. By myself, I supported half the sales department. Then, a newly hired HR director decided every desk needed an AI camera, claiming it was to optimize efficiency. Every blink, every breath I took was measured and calculated by the system. "Warning. Employee Nathan Gray blinked more than twenty times within one minute. Mental distraction detected. Fine: 50." "Warning. Employee Nathan Gray took 3.5 seconds to drink water, exceeding the standard by 1.5 seconds. Slacking detected. Fine: 100." "Warning. Employee Nathan Gray's mouth corners drooped for over thirty seconds. Suspected spread of negative emotion. Fine: 200." The most ridiculous part was the way he stood in front of the entire department, pointing proudly at my data on the giant screen. "See that?" he said smugly. "This is the power of technology. In front of AI, you lazy freeloaders have nowhere to hide. Nathan, your bonus for this month has already been wiped out by the system. If you don't like it, get lost. Plenty of people are lining up to take your place." What he didn't know was that the AI system he trusted so blindly had its core code written by me. Tonight, I was going to show him what happened when he angered the one who built the machine.