Novel & Cerita Strongest Blue Lock Characters

Warning! mature content but not too explicit!!! "If you don't do as I say then you will never see our son again, not in this life or the next," Henry said in an icy tone that made me shiver in fright. Five years ago, I had a one-night stand with an unknown man. It was never my wish, how could my stepmother and my stepsister be this cruel to set me up with a stranger? I trusted them but I guess it was too late, the deed was already done. They threatened to ruin my reputation, so I ran away. Five years later, I returned with my son to the country, after getting the heartbreaking news that my father was sick. The stranger, whose name I knew to be Henry, a ruthless billionaire, wanted me and my son and if I didn't abide by his rules, he threatened to do the unthinkable.

For six years I was locked in the pack's lightless dungeon, bled day after day to keep the Alpha alive. The day they finally dragged me out, I was barely breathing. But the Alpha just looked at me and said, "My poison was actually cured within the first six months. It's just that the moonflower in Selene's garden needs she-wolf blood to bloom — it helps her conceive. Your blood wasn't wasted." My brother Damien spoke like he was doing me a favor. "We've known all along. You bullied Selene for years. Call this a small punishment." My parents stood off to the side, looking at me with open impatience. "We were going to keep you locked up longer. But Selene miscarried because of you. She can't have children anymore. So we're letting you out — to carry an heir for her." Six years of bleeding for the Alpha had hollowed me out. I had less than a month left to live. What the Alpha would never know was why I'd been willing to bleed myself dry for him. Because I was the one the Moon Goddess had chosen as his mate.

On the day I'm set to go into labor, I plead to my husband, Timothy Langford, to take me to the hospital when I'm two centimeters dilated. However, a pissed-looking Timothy orders his men to lock me up in a sauna room that's heated to 356 degrees Fahrenheit. This is all because my estimated labor date is one day earlier than my widowed sister-in-law, Natalie Thornton. Since Timothy is bent on making Natalie's baby the oldest grandson of the Langford family, he instructs his men to inject me with 100 labor-suppressant injections. No matter how much I beg Timothy to spare our baby, he remains unmoved. Having received 99 injections, I feel a world of pain crashing down on me, seeing as I'm already suffering from contractions to begin with. But Timothy is the one who injects the final labor-suppressant injection into my huge pregnancy bump. As he gazes at my agonized and writhing form, he says coldly, "It's already difficult for Natalie to survive in this world after losing my older brother. As her brother-in-law, I'm merely fulfilling her wish to become a mother. "Still, you refuse to spare her. It's not enough for you to force her to survive overseas on her own; you even plan on receiving labor-induction injections just to give birth to your baby on an earlier date! "It seems that I've spoiled you far too much for you to have the guts to pull this stunt off! The doctor already told me that once I've given you the labor-suppressant injections and leave you somewhere extremely hot, it can stop you from giving birth. You're only allowed to give birth once Natalie is out of labor." At that moment, I've completely given up on life. The moment Timothy witnesses Natalie's baby being born, his eyes are filled with tears of happiness. He sets off firework after firework to celebrate the grand birth. Later on, as Timothy gazes at Natalie's newborn, he finally remembers me and our unborn baby. When he's about to order his men to take me to the hospital, he receives a phone call from his assistant. "The hospital has called to inform you to take Mrs. Langford's body away."

As a zombie outbreak spreads across the world, my boyfriend insists on delaying our evacuation so his drama-queen childhood sweetheart can catch the last rescue chopper. However, this is the last evacuation after the outbreak, and our team's only chance to survive. When she still doesn't show up, I knock my boyfriend out and haul him onto the helicopter. In the end, his childhood sweetheart is devoured by the surging horde, while I seize the opportunity to escape and start a peaceful, quiet life with him in the safe zone. The night before I am to take command and lead a massive counterattack against the undead, my boyfriend laces my drink with a tranquilizer and dumps me into a swarm of zombies. Thousands of zombies tear me apart, and I die in excruciating pain. He stands on the fortress wall, a cold smile on his lips. "Had you not been so selfish, Esmeralda would've survived. Now, you'll experience her suffering and atone with your life!" Given a second chance at life, I wake up on the day my boyfriend refused to evacuate on time. Since he's so determined to stand by his childhood sweetheart through thick and thin, I'll make sure they both become zombie food!

In Valeburn, Atlanta’s most dangerous block, power doesn’t pass hands—it’s taken with blood. And no one understands that more than Jayce Navarro, the razor-sharp kingpin who built his empire brick by brick, silence by silence. He rules with cold precision, a name whispered like a gun being cocked—until the ghost of his past returns with vengeance on his breath. Eli Mercer is no longer the soft-eyed teen Jayce once kissed beneath the chapel steps. Fresh from the feds and wrapped in scars, Eli returns to the block with one purpose: burn down the throne that forgot him. But when fate—and the city’s shifting underworld—forces them into an uneasy alliance, old feelings smolder beneath their armor. Lust tangles with rage. Loyalty with betrayal. And love? It’s the most dangerous weapon of all. As enemies circle from the inside and the state threatens to dismantle Jayce’s entire operation, he and Eli must decide what’s worth saving—their empires, their reputations… or each other. But in Valeburn, every crown is cursed. And every favor comes with fire.

When my girlfriend, Cherry Jameson, receives her HIV positive test report, she finally realizes what her childhood friend, Neil Sawyer, meant by "life-and-death". In the previous life, after Cherry fainted from her latest anemic episode, Neil insisted on donating his blood to her. I did everything I could to stop the procedure from happening. I told Cherry that Neil had been diagnosed with HIV a long time ago, so she'd get infected if she were to receive his blood. But Cherry refused to believe me. Neil broke down in tears, saying that he never had a girlfriend, to begin with. Then, he went to the rooftop and pretended to jump so that he could prove himself with his death. But he accidentally slipped and fell, resulting in his actual death. In order to avenge Neil, Cherry worked with her classmates to kidnap me. She was the one who personally strangled me to death with her hands. Angrily, she roared at me, "Your slanderous lies killed Neil! I want you to pay with your own life!" When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Cherry is supposed to receive a blood transfusion from Neil. As I look at Cherry, who's in the middle of receiving blood from Neil, I just smile faintly. It's just HIV. She'll be fine.

It's 11:30 pm. Home alone, I decide to order some takeout. When the map shows the delivery guy is zero miles away, I receive a call from him. I pick up, only to hear unsettling silence from the other end. I hang up, annoyed. The next moment, the guy texts me, "Sorry, I'm hearing-impaired and unable to speak. I called to notify you to pick up your food as soon as possible. I can't explain things over the phone, and I apologize for that." Then comes another text. "You must've been waiting for a long time. I've left your order at your door, so please pick it up as soon as you can." Just as I prepare to open the door, I see bars of live comments—reminiscent of livestream chats—floating right before my eyes. "Don't open the door! That dude isn't a delivery guy at all! He's a murderer!" "He called you to check if you're a woman living alone!" "Seriously, why are all thriller story protagonists always so dumb? The delivery guy is obviously suspicious, yet she still wants to open the door."

I’d just wrapped up a short trip with my daughter, Elara. On the way back, I figured I’d swing by the Hale, our family’s casino, to check in on my son, Cassian. Maybe grab dinner together. I didn’t expect to be mistaken for his latest fling. Correction: not mistaken—accused. Violently. “You think you can just waltz in here like some queen?” she hissed. “I’m the woman Cassian loves! What kind of whore are you? And is this your bastard daughter with him?” She locked us in the basement. No phone. No light. Just concrete walls and the stench of mildew and madness. Then came the fists. She slapped me across the face—again and again—until my skin stung and my ears rang. When that didn’t satisfy her, she pulled a gun and aimed low. The bullet tore through my knee. I bit back a scream, shielding Elara with my body. “You need to die, whore,” she spat. One of her men hesitated, “We should at least tell Mr. Hale first. If we are going to kill these two in his casino.” Lila of course said no. But that man brought Cassian anyway. My son stepped into this dark little room like it was any other Tuesday—until he saw me. His whole body went still. The blood drained from his face. And then, in the smallest, most broken voice I’d ever heard from him, he whispered, “Mom? What are you doing in my basement?”

We agreed we were going to spend Christmas together as a family of three. I briefly stepped out to grab my daughter’s Christmas gift, but quickly realized that I had forgotten my keys. However, when I came back, I was locked outside the villa. I rang the doorbell countless times, but no one came to let me in. Through the glass window, I saw my daughter happily smiling in the arms of my wife’s childhood friend who had returned from overseas. “Uncle Jones, you smell so nice. Not like my dad. He’s always sweaty and smells so gross. I don’t even want to spend Christmas with him!” My wife, Lily Quinn, looked at them indulgently and agreed. “Your dad hasn’t seen much of the world. He really doesn’t know how to celebrate holidays properly.” I froze in place as my fingers turned cold. Yara turned and saw me outside the window. Her face was filled with disgust. “What are you staring at? Why are you standing outside like some monster? You almost scared me to death! You’re not like Uncle Jones at all. He’s so elegant and well-mannered!” However, ten years ago, I was a top sales director at a well-known multinational company. Back then, I had the chance to be transferred to New York. Yet Lily unexpectedly got pregnant and suffered severe reactions. She was at constant risk of miscarriage. I voluntarily gave up that opportunity to take care of her and our daughter. Now, that sacrifice had somehow become undeniable proof of my uselessness. I took a deep breath and threw the Christmas gift I had bought for my daughter into the trash. Then I messaged someone saved in my contacts as “Apprentice”: [Is that overseas position you mentioned a few days ago still available?] The reply came almost instantly: [Of course! Mr. Lane, as long as you’re willing to come back, you’ll always have a place waiting for you!]

On Halloween, I was secretly reunited with my long-lost mafia parents. They offered to take me home, but because I couldn't bear to leave the three brothers in my foster family, I refused to go with my parents. Getting back home, I changed into the white dress and bracelet given to me by my brothers as gifts. However, this triggered the jealousy and crying tantrums of their biological sister, Tiana. To avoid putting my brothers in a difficult position, I agreed to take off the dress and bracelet. Despite that, she wasn't satisfied. To appease their biological sister that they had been separated from for years, my three brothers forcefully locked me inside a transparent decorative coffin, despite knowing that I suffered from severe claustrophobia. Suffocating, I frantically banged on the coffin's glass, begging them for help. Tiana stood on the side, smirking at me maliciously. "Sarah, aren't you a professional actress? Why is your acting so exaggerated and fake? You're just locked inside, not being strangled, so why are you gasping?" My brothers knit their brows in annoyance. "It's just a little prank. How can you not even last ten minutes? Can't you just tolerate it for a bit?" "I checked it myself. The coffin has air vents and we're standing right here watching you the whole time! You won't be in any danger, and it's impossible for you to suffocate!" "If you didn't want to make Tiana happy, you could have just said you aren't willing! There's no need to fake being miserable and pitiful just to get our attention and sympathy!" But I wasn't faking. The phobia triggered a severe stress response and it brought on an asthma attack, cutting off my airway. Through the glass, I looked at them in sheer agony and despair. I was really going to die...