Ryuko Matoi X Male Reader

When news of my arranged fiancee's death arrived, I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I quickly reclaimed her shares and had the death certificate issued. I did it because I've been reborn. In my past life, Dad was worried that women would eye my fortune as the heir to the wealthiest family. So, he arranged for me to marry one of three women he personally picked. I chose the most outstanding one, Monica Harris, and married her. However, just three days after our wedding, she died suddenly. Heartbroken, I was persuaded by the remaining two women to give up on marriage and remain single for life. At 80 years old, when I returned to our special place in Sunmere Valley to reminisce, I saw Monica. She should have been dead for 60 years! She stood beside Liam Rogers, my driver who'd gone missing decades ago, surrounded by their children and grandchildren, living a picture-perfect life. I realized I'd been deceived my entire life. The shock sent my blood pressure soaring, and I died of a stroke on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was transported back to the day I died. This time, I'm going to find out exactly how someone who's supposedly dead keeps on living.

I got a security job in an upscale neighborhood.  One day, I got a call from a resident.  “I think there’s been a break-in.”  I rushed to the scene. Instead of an intruder, I was greeted by a beautiful woman in barely anything.  She held me and pleaded, “I’m scared. Can you stay with me?”

On Valentine's Day, I paid in full for a sports car and gave it to my wife as a gift. But when my wife arrived at the private dining restaurant, she brought her parents—and her childhood sweetheart—along with her. The moment my mother-in-law saw it, she slammed her hand on the table, furious. "Tyler, do you have so much money that it's burning a hole in your pocket? Is all this really necessary just for a meal? "Megan pinches every penny at home, and here you are throwing money around outside—just to show off?" Embarrassed, I tried to explain that this was simply a token of my love for Megan. My father-in-law, however, kept a stern face. "No matter how expensive the car is, it's still going to get stuck in traffic during rush hour! It's not even as useful as the electric scooter Brandon gave her. If you ask me, you didn't put any real thought into this. "Oh, right. I heard the salesperson who sold you the car was introduced by Brandon. How exactly are you planning to repay that favor? No matter how busy you are with work, you can't just push everything onto Brandon to handle for you." I could hear the hidden meaning behind his words. So that was what this was really about. They were still holding a grudge because a week ago, when my father-in-law had twisted his back, I hadn't gone to the hospital to visit him. But at the time, I had been busy cleaning up the mess Brandon Hayes had caused for the company. I'd even kept him out of prison. Yet, instead of gratitude, they were turning the blame on me. After a long silence, my wife finally looked at me. "Tyler, transfer ten percent of the company's shares to Brandon as repayment." "And if I don't?" My father-in-law barked angrily, "Then I'll have Megan divorce you!" I laughed. Then I calmly pulled a divorce agreement from my pocket and placed it on the table. "Go ahead," I said. "Sign it."

"Hubby, kiss me. I miss you so much. When are you coming home?" Out of nowhere, I received a text. The sender was the cold, untouchable CEO who was currently scolding us in a meeting, Veronica Starling. What shocked me even more was the timestamp on the message. It was sent five years in the future.

I was the top engineer at the National Deep-Sea Institute—and the only person in the world with real deep-sea rescue experience. When my younger brother's submarine went down and he called for help from 35,000 feet below, I hung up on him. Then, calm and unhurried, I went straight to the police station and turned myself in for leaking classified research data. A few minutes later, my father called, furious. "Your brother's life is hanging by a thread—where the hell are you?! I demand you to get to the site and save him right now, or you won't see a single penny of the family fortune!" I pulled the blanket over myself and said into the phone, perfectly composed, "Busy. Don't bother me—I'm trying to sleep."

In the first year after marrying Victoria Kingsley, I choose to celebrate the holidays with her in her childhood home. At dinner, my mother-in-law suddenly claims that she's lost her gold bracelet. That's when Victoria's childhood friend, Jonathan Zane, points at me. "You must be the one who stole the bracelet! After all, you've been a serial pickpocket since you were young!" Everyone turns to stare at me, their gazes unkind. I thought Jonathan must have mistaken me for another person, so I tell everyone that I never stole the bracelet. But Jonathan continues confidently, "You were punished for stealing from others in high school all the time! Not to mention, I saw you at the police station last month! There's no way I'd have gotten the wrong guy!" Then, Jonathan lays down the details including the time, location, as well as the clothes I was wearing that day. All I feel is mixed feelings at the moment. The thing is, I was at the police station because I needed to obtain some evidence. After all, I'd already joined the judiciary a long time ago. Last month, I was even promoted to the presiding district court judge.

When I'm having a meal with my family at home, I find out that my childhood sweetheart, Melanie Johnson, has given up on an opportunity to get promoted and transferred to the military base in the north for the sake of my cousin, Wilson Chandler. "Wilson's competence is only good enough for him to study at a local college in town. It so happens that Mrs. Holland is in poor health as well. I've already applied for a local college for you. We shall stay in this town together." My mom adds, "That's right. I did promise your uncle that I'll take good care of Wilson, so you need to help me take care of him too. You should just give up on Valmore College—it's useless for you anyway. When you marry Melanie in the future, you'll have to follow her to whichever military district she's going to." Before I can even speak up, Wilson's eyes redden instantly, making him look very aggrieved. "This is my fault for being a total loser. My parents aren't here anymore, not to mention I'm the reason why Charlie can't attend his dream college. Why don't you all just leave and do whatever you want? I'm fine being alone." The moment Wilson starts playing the pity card, both my mom and Melanie panic instantly and start doing their best to comfort him. Meanwhile, I return to my room quietly and withdrew the application that Melanie helped me submit. Luckily, I manage to apply to Valmore College one second before the submission deadline ends. Honestly speaking, I intend to study at Valmore College not just because I can be closer to Melanie in terms of distance, but I also want to watch the snow with her there. I want us to walk together in the snow till our heads turn white from the flakes, signifying the longevity in our relationship. But now, the person standing next to me as I watch the snowfall doesn't matter to me anymore. It's just that I need to watch the snowfall no matter what.

Six months after our divorce, my ex-wife, Shanon Reich went viral with her new influencer boyfriend, Tobias Hunt, gaining over ten million followers. One day, by sheer accident, I scrolled into their livestream and saw my three-year-old daughter, Ginny Herbert, trapped inside a car. She was crying so hard she could barely breathe. Her little face was flushed, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. She looked utterly helpless. Shanon didn't smash the window, nor did she call the police. Instead, she laughed brightly at the camera. "Thank you to our top fan for the moneybag gift!" Then she grinned and said, "Send another moneybag! I'll smash the window once I get it, okay?" I lost my mind. I raced over like a madman and wrenched the car keys out of her hand. "Leomund Herbert! Are you insane?" she screamed. "Do you know how much this stream is worth? It's just a little heat! She's not going to die!" I held my daughter in my arms. Her tiny body was limp, and she was barely conscious. With reddened eyes, I pointed at her and shouted, "Shanon Reich! You will pay for this!"

When I visit my girlfriend's house during the Christmas holidays, her cousin, Antonio Esposito, humiliates me in front of everyone because of a scar on the back of my hand. "This scar looks like a remnant of the crossfire with the mafia! Bianca, why did you think that bringing an ex-convict home was a good idea?" The entire Romano family stares at me in a mixture of horror and shock. My girlfriend, Bianco Romano, even shakes my hand off while staring at me in disgust. Not only does Antonio flip the table, but he also calls over a few hooligans in an attempt to take me to the local police station. "We must teach scumbags like him a lesson!" he declares. After that, Antonio and the hooligans strip off my jacket and strap me to the tree in the courtyard. They then attempt to force me to admit that I'm working for the mafia. I can only gnash my teeth together stubbornly, refusing to yield no matter what. What they don't know is that the scar is a medal from my time in a peacekeeping war as a soldier!

The mother of Mr. Burr, the hospital director, was critically ill and needed emergency surgery. My wife, wanting to help her beloved crush, Cedric Grey, take the spotlight, deliberately kept the surgery time from me. By the time I finally arrived—late, Mr. Burr stopped me from entering the operating room and scolded me harshly for being unprofessional and unethical. Once I realized what my wife was doing, I handed the lead surgeon position over to her beloved crush. “Well, since you're so eager to shine,” I said coldly, “you’d better not screw it up.” The nurses tried to talk me out of it. They said I was being impulsive, that this was a rare chance to prove myself. However, none of them knew that I was the only doctor in the entire country capable of performing this rare and complex heart valve surgery. Even if Cedric managed to buy time with some miracle drug and made it look like the patient was improving, without my diagnosis and surgical skills, the operation was doomed to fail. And when that happens, he’d be held responsible. As for my wife, her blind favoritism would come back to haunt her.