Rebirth Of The Strongest Guild Master

My husband and I spend 50 loving years together. On the day of our golden wedding anniversary, someone pushes me down a flight of stairs. As I drift in and out of consciousness, I miraculously regain my hearing. I lost it in the process of saving my husband when we were younger. I hear my husband say to my son, "You shouldn't have dirtied your hands." "How long more are you going to put up with her, Dad? Calista doesn't have much longer to wait." My husband sighs heavily. After a moment, I feel someone remove my oxygen tube. I descend into boundless darkness. When I open my eyes again, I've been taken back to the 80s—before I married my husband. The only difference is that I can hear this time.

Nicholas’s first love was diagnosed with HIV at our hospital. I broke doctor-patient confidentiality and told him. Unfortunately, he thought I was lying. He not only accused me of killing a patient and got me convicted, and he even spiked my milk with abortion pills. At eight weeks pregnant, I bled heavily. I begged him for help, but he just walked away and sneered, "Finally, no one can stop me from being with Shereen." When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day his first love was diagnosed with HIV. This time, I didn’t tell him. Instead, I broke up with him. Since he loves his first love so much, I’ll gladly step aside.

I've had a crush on my fiancée for years, and we're finally about to get married. Yet I'm willing to jump off a building just to avoid marrying her—all because I've been reborn. In my past life, she and I were married for over two decades. We were the perfect couple in everyone's eyes. However, the fairy tale came to an abrupt end on our 25th wedding anniversary. She took her own life, and she did it with her true love. As I kneeled before her grave, I asked, "Did you regret marrying me?" I knew I wouldn't hear her response, so I answered myself. "I regret marrying you." When I open my eyes again, I find myself back to before the wedding happens. I decide to run away. This time, I want us to become nothing but estranged acquaintances. To my surprise, she comes to me, looking like she's terminally ill. She says, "I've never regretted marrying you. Whether in this lifetime or the past, you're the only one I've ever wanted to marry."

In my past life, my best friend and I married twins at the same time. We shared secrets, complained about our husbands, and teamed up to outsmart our overbearing mother-in-law—it was truly enjoyable. Until the day I nearly died giving birth to twins. As I lay on the brink of death, my best friend cradled my newborns and revealed the cruel truth. “Thank you, Bianca, for giving me such adorable twins. You had no idea, did you? The twins only ever loved me. If I had the ability to give birth, we wouldn't have used you as a tool to have kids. "You’re poor and have never been loved, so it was far too easy to manipulate you. Even the way your husband loved you? It was all my idea—I planned every move he made. “Oh, and every time you two were intimate, I was watching through the cameras—every single time!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I met my best friend.

I fell in love with a man I should never have touched—my brother-in-law, Lucas Zahn. The first time he came to our home with my sister, Quincy, they looked like the perfect couple. He smiled at me, held out a peace talisman bracelet, and said it would keep me safe. I wore it like it was the most precious thing in the world. When the old injury in my ankle flared up, he would scoop me into his arms and rush me to the hospital without a second thought. When thugs tried to harass me, he made them scatter with a single look, then spoke to me in a voice so gentle it made my heart tremble. I told myself I understood—that everything he did was only because I was Quincy’s younger sister. Even so, I clung to those rare moments when I could be near him. Until the night Lucas was drugged by an enemy, his life teetering on the edge. If no one acted, he would die. So, I acted. On that reckless, desperate night, my sister walked in. The sight struck her like a lightning bolt, and she collapsed, her weak heart seizing on the spot. What came next was madness. In a frenzy of rage and panic, Lucas tied me to an operating table. His hands—those hands I once longed to hold—cut open my chest and tore my heart out for her. “When the avalanche hit, Quincy nearly died saving me. I swore I’d treat her well for the rest of my life. That means loving her family, too. I never thought you’d be so shameless. “This is what you owe her!” He never knew that I was the one who saved him in that avalanche. So, I died in agony, my love carved out of me—literally. When my eyes opened again, I found myself back on the night he was drunk.

My husband's protégé boasted she could disarm bombs blindfolded, relying on her so-called intuition. Her reckless misjudgment triggered a bomb's secondary detonation sequence, endangering an entire building. I intervened, using the dangerous liquid nitrogen condensation method to save the day. As a result, Rita Smith was removed from frontline duties and placed under investigation. Patrick Munoz tried to defend her, but I stopped him cold. "If you back her now, you won't just fail to save her. You'll be dragged down with her." Crushed by the pressure, Rita staged an accident that killed her, leaving a letter blaming him for abandoning her in her hour of need. He said nothing, only preserving her letter in his study. Years later, he became a nationally renowned bomb disposal expert. During a terrorist attack, I was strapped to a timed explosive. He arrived to defuse it but repeated Rita's fatal mistake. As the timer ticked down, he gave a bitter laugh. "Rita was just nervous back then. If I'd supported her, she'd be a hero today." The bomb detonated, leaving nothing of me behind. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the point when he tried to defend Rita. He didn't know that the building housed the nation's top-secret core server.

On my 28th birthday, I announced that I was pregnant. But my husband told everyone that he was sterile. Together with my best friend, they said that this was proof that I cheated on him. I tried defending myself, but in the end, I, along with my baby, died while burning with hate. When I reopened my eyes, I returned to the moment three hours before my death.

My mother-in-law competed with me over everything. When she found out I was trying to get pregnant, she went as far as to use a folk remedy to get pregnant as well. It was a molar pregnancy, but she still flaunted it in front of me. I told her that it was a medical condition that needed immediate treatment or it could develop into a tumor and endanger her life. Nonetheless, she insisted that she was carrying a few gorgeous babies. I convinced my family to forcefully take her to the hospital, but my mother-in-law never forgave me. She pushed me off a balcony out of hatred, killing me. When I opened my eyes again, I found out I had been reborn on the day she first announced her pregnancy.

When my best friend and I went for prenatal checkups, we both found out we were carrying babies with the super-male gene. The doctor advised us to terminate the pregnancies. I immediately went through with it, but my best friend was hesitant. I kindly advised her, "This child will ruin your life someday." She reluctantly agreed. Later, her husband cheated on her and tried to justify it. "If you can't give me a son, why shouldn't someone else?" Her husband's mistress chimed in, "What's the point of a woman who can't bear sons?" As a result, she blamed everything on me. When I wasn't paying attention, she poisoned my water and watched me die. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of our prenatal checkup.

As a hopeless romantic and a trusting fool, I never saw it coming. The man who once swore he loved me to the bone ended up in bed with the very girl I had been supporting—a poor, sickly girl who played the part well. He didn’t stop there. He convinced me to donate my kidney to save her, knowing full well it meant losing our unborn child. Together, they wove a twisted plan to rob my family of everything, drowning us in insurmountable debt. In the end, my mother and I had nowhere to turn but the rooftop. The last thing I saw before jumping was a flood of crimson, and the agony that consumed me was unforgettable. Yet, when I opened my eyes again, I was back—ten minutes before I made the fateful decision to help that girl. This time, things will be different.