Super Devouring System Novels & Stories

When the SAT scores are out, I've scored 400 out of 1600. That's because I never wrote anything on my exam papers. My mom goes crazy, whereas my younger sister, Melinda Bolton, bursts into tears. But I just laugh at them instead. In my previous life, Melinda had formed a pact with the score-swapping system. That was how she swapped our SAT scores. She became the top scorer that all prestigious universities fought to recruit. I, the valedictorian of my year, not only got into a trade school, but I also got expelled from my previous high school. Melinda had the gall to comfort me. "Didn't you call yourself a genius, Melissa? Trade schools are very popular right now. In the future, you'll secure a job at a factory out there!" In this life, I spend my exam hours sleeping in my seat the whole time. Melinda wants to swap her scores, right? Then, let's do it properly!

To stay by the side of award-winning actress Victoria Quinn, I gave up the system's one-billion-dollar cash reward. I also drained every last one of my luck points to make her paralyzed legs heal. The price was that my life became bound to her loyalty. If she ever betrayed me, emotionally or physically, my soul would be ripped from my body and erased completely. At the moment of binding, I hesitated. But when I looked into her eyes and saw the depth of her love, I believed her. I believed her when she said, "Out of all the people in the world, I only want you." So I chose to become the man who stood silently behind her, giving everything without complaint, and I pressed confirm. For seven years, we loved each other as deeply as we had in the beginning. Hand in hand, we weathered every storm together. Until our wedding anniversary. I was in the kitchen making her favorite soup when I suddenly coughed violently and spat out a large pool of black blood. Then I looked down and saw my fingers slowly turning transparent, so faint that I could no longer even touch the glass in front of me. At the same time, a piercing alarm rang through my mind. "Warning. Bound target's love value has fallen below the critical threshold. Erasure protocol activated..."

After six years of working as a corpse porter, I finally saved enough money to treat my sister, Maeve Xander, for her liver cancer. Maeve, however, casually refused the surgery. “I’m not actually sick. Mom and Dad aren’t dead either. I staged that car accident. You’re the only one who ended up seriously hurt and disabled.” Then my wife, Laurel Jinks, also confessed, “I’m not bankrupt. Every time I said I had to work late, it was because I didn’t want to cram into that filthy basement with you. I was going back to my mansion. I originally planned to punish you for three more years, but you reek of dead bodies. Maeve and I just can’t take the smell anymore.” A wave of pure absurdity washed over me as my body froze with the hand holding my credit card still in the air. Maeve snatched the card from my hand and tossed it into the trash. “That card is empty. I gave all the money you made carrying corpses to homeless people. Think of it as doing good deeds for the child you lost. After all, taking money from the dead is cursed. It’s bad luck all the way down. We shouldn’t touch that filthy money.” A chill ran down my spine. I did not understand why they treated me this way. Then, I saw my parents. They were standing far away from me, as if I were a plague. I completely broke down. “You bullied Cameron because you are the only son of the Xander family, so we wanted to teach you a lesson. If you promise to never bully Cameron again, we’ll still consider you our son. If you do not promise, we’ll cut you off, and you’ll be dead to us.” Just as my heart sank and I fell into despair, a sympathetic voice from the system sounded in my mind. [Jude, do you wish to abandon this mission and leave this world?]

I had been dating Lily Foster for three years, and she strictly insisted on splitting every expense. When my mother needed surgery and I was short twenty thousand dollars, she looked troubled. “Aaron, we agreed on financial independence.” I went everywhere trying to borrow money, while she turned around and bought her brother a Ferrari outright. When I confronted her, she answered without a hint of guilt. “That’s my money. What does it have to do with you? “And besides, you’re a man. You can’t always expect a woman to support you, right?” Her brother drove the sports car right up in front of me, showing off. “My sister said it herself—your money is her money, but her money is still hers.” I laughed. Because just a moment ago, I had activated the “Malice Cashback” system. For every trace of hostility someone directed at me, I would receive a hundredfold cash return. Lily stood in front of me, frowning in disgust. “What are you laughing at? You look like an idiot.” [Ding! Received 20 hostility points from Lily Foster. Cashback of $2,000 has been credited.]

In the third year after my death, the one who remained faithfully by my wife's side was still the bionic robot I had painstakingly designed. It looked exactly like me and carried within it every detail of my mannerisms, speech, and habits. The only difference was that it never lost its temper with her. Because of that, my wife never sensed anything amiss. Yet each night, she brought home a different man, deliberately testing "me," desperate to see the wild jealousy and rage I once wore so vividly. Then, one day, her childhood sweetheart and first love, shoved "me" off the balcony. It was only then, in her horror, that my wife realized… "I" didn't bleed.

I suspected my husband was a detached ascetic. Every night, he'd skip to the backyard, muttering prayers under the stars instead of sharing our bed. When I slipped into something slinky, he'd frown and clutch his prayer beads like a lifeline. Now I was done with the cold shoulder, slapping a divorce agreement in his hands. That was when his thoughts started leaking into my head. "She touched me. Her hands are like silk. I'm dying to kiss her. When is she gonna be okay with me being a snake? I just want to cuddle her." "A snake?" I thought. "Does that mean he's packing two things? I have to find out." I leered at his chiseled frame, practically drooling. Before divorcing, I needed to test his things and my limits. I tripped purposefully and fell onto his toned pecs, ready to test the waters. "Whoops!" I gasped, setting the stage.

After my wife, Princess Keisha Peyton, spent a reckless night with her adopted brother, I chose to abandon her and our child and return to my original world. But the next year, the system suddenly came to find me. [Host... could you go back for a while? The target has been trying to break through dimensions to find you. And your child... he's also a bit mentally unstable...] I looked down at the cancer diagnosis I had just received and sighed. "Fine. I'll go back." When I returned, I became the perfect prince consort. I no longer demanded monogamy. Instead, I even started actively selecting male companions to bring into Keisha's household. I also dismissed the tutors who had been pushing my son to study, allowing him to join the military camps while he was still young. I rarely went out and kept the princess's estate running flawlessly. But when Keisha saw all this, she went crazy—smashing every ornament in the room. "I already sent Gregory away," she said. "What are you trying to do, tormenting me like this?" Our son, Thomas Peyton, stood there tearfully. "I'll never say again that Mother can have many male companions because she's a princess. And I'll never mention Gregory again either. Father, please stop making a scene, okay?"

After completing the quest, I insisted on staying in that world, foregoing the lucrative rewards. It was because I had a happy and perfect family there. My brother was a genius world-renowned scientist, and all his research achievements were named after me. My father was the world's richest man, and all his wealth was under my name. My mother was an extraordinarily talented dancer, but she gave up the stage just to spend more time with me. My family pampered me. I was the most envied pampered daughter in the world… until the day their real daughter, Carrie Langford, showed up at our door. Their love for me vanished overnight. From then on, I became inconsequential. Carrie orchestrated her own fall down the stairs, and my mother was so angry that she broke my leg. I ate a small bite of the cake Carrie threw away, so my father locked me in a dog cage for three days to dine with the dogs. He also made a golden cake for Carrie to make her feel better. Just because Carrie complained that her heart hurt, my brother dug out my heart for her and replaced it with an artificial heart. "It's just a heart. You've always been healthy. Carrie needs it more than you do." Calmly, my brother stood to the side, analyzing the data. "Don't worry, artificial heart technology is already very advanced, so the theoretical survival rate is very high. You won't die." After my soul left my body, I saw Carrie casually throw my heart into a trash can. The long-dormant system was awakened. [Would you like to take back everything you've given them, including your father's wealth, your mother's dancing talent, and your brother's intelligence, in exchange for a chance to revive?]

My fiancé's childhood sweetheart could eat chili peppers like they were nothing, and she even claimed that they tasted sweet. The truth was, whenever she ate something spicy, the heat multiplied a hundred times in my stomach and shrank to almost nothing in hers. That was how she blew up online doing spicy food challenges, pulling in millions of followers in no time. As for me, I ended up with a wrecked stomach and a face covered in breakouts. I had no choice but to ask my fiancé for help. Not only did he refuse, but he also tried to have me committed. "Who still believes in this kind of nonsense? Either see a therapist or go check yourself into a psych ward!" Later, she entered a national spicy eating competition. After downing ten pounds of ghost peppers, she walked away just fine. Meanwhile, I died on the spot from a ruptured stomach. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment Sally Wallaker had just started streaming. I reached out and snatched the utensil from her hand. "I'll take this whole bowl of extra-spicy Cajun wings."

Bima is just an introverted, scrawny kid used to living behind a gaming screen and being a constant target for body shaming. But his life takes a drastic turn when he wakes up in a ruined city crawling with zombies. In the midst of the chaos, something even stranger than the apocalypse emerges: the "Single Survival System," which hits him with absurd missions likes maintaining an ideal BMI, getting revenge on his bullies, and landing his first kiss. Every mission isn't just a ridiculous challenge; it’s a matter of life and death. Forced out of his comfort zone, Bima must face his dark past. He crosses paths with Donny, his former bully who is now a zombie, and Kevin, an ex-gym influencer who has transformed into a fanatical cult leader obsessed with the perfect physique and extreme protein intake. Amidst the chaos, Bima meets Lia, a tough convenience store clerk who harbors a deep-seated trauma toward food. Together, they survive nonsensical threats, ranging from zombie food vloggers obsessed with livestreaming death to grotesque mutants lurking underground. But the madness is only the beginning. Bima’s reckless actions catch the attention of a far more dangerous entity: the Master AI Fitness Freak, an artificial intelligence that views humans as inefficient unless they meet extreme nutritional standards. With the help of Riska, an AI with cold, business-like logic that shares a secret connection to Bima’s past, the battle shifts into a clash of ideologies: perfection versus happiness. In a world that worships muscles, protein, and ruthless efficiency, Bima fights back in an unexpected way, using Indomie as a symbol of balance, hope, and humanity.