Ultraman Fighting Rebirth

The day I gave birth, so did Lily Jasper—the underprivileged student I had been sponsoring. But her baby didn’t survive. Afterward, my husband, Carter Scott, insisted on making Lily my son’s godmother. From that moment on, she was everywhere—always butting into my parenting. Whether I was disciplining my son or buying him clothes, Lily never missed a chance to chime in with her opinions. Years later, when my son took his college entrance exams, I helped him choose a major that matched his scores. But Lily pushed hard for him to apply to Merika State or Haven State University instead. In the end, he listened to me and got into a suitable college. Then his acceptance letter came. And everything fell apart. That day, he caused a car accident. My accident. He stepped out of the car, walked over, and kicked me a few times as I lay helpless on the ground. His face was full of disgust as he spat, “You actually thought you were my mom?” His voice was cold. “You’ve made my real mom cry over and over because of you. “You were never family. My real parents and I—we’re family. You? You were just in the way. “But it's over now. Finally...” He smiled cruelly. “We can be together—the real family.” And in that moment, I finally understood. Lily didn’t lose her baby that day. She killed my newborn son and swapped him with hers. Everything went dark. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the day I gave birth.

At my eighteenth birthday celebration, my cousin gave me a half-scratched lottery ticket as a coming-of-age gift. When he realized I'd won twenty dollars, he suddenly demanded to buy the ticket from me for two hundred thousand. Something about it felt wrong, and I refused. Then he snapped. Like a man gone mad, he cursed me, wishing me dead, and in front of all the guests, shoved me off the balcony. Dozens of people watched, including my own parents, silently condoning him—joining in, shouting that I deserved to die. And then I opened my eyes… and I was back half an hour earlier. My cousin sneered, tossing the lottery ticket toward me, speaking the same familiar words.

In my past life, I used the little one in my womb to force Richard Reynold into marrying me. On the day of our wedding, his beloved, Elise Brie, leaped into the sea, taking her own life. She left behind a letter saying: "True love is no match for power and money. It is my loss." Richard, after learning the news of her death, was unaffected. In fact, he went through our wedding with a smile on his face. However, on the day of our son's third birthday, Richard took us to a diving trip. While 300-feet underwater, he ripped off the tube of our oxygen tanks, drowning me and my son. After my death, my consciousness remained as a spirit. I watched on as he placed my corpse in front of Elise's grave as an offering. He said, "Ellie, I've finally avenged you. I hope this will bring you some peace in your afterlife." Soon after, my vision darkened. When I opened my eyes once more, I realized I was back at the night when I was trying to use our son to force Richard into marriage…

I had been married to my husband for 27 years, but the love between us had faded long ago. Even our children could see it, and they were the ones who tried to persuade me to get a divorce. "Mom, you and Dad are still young. You still have time to pursue your own life." "Yeah, Mom. You shouldn't force yourself to live like this anymore. We'd support you if you got divorced." With their encouragement, my husband and I finally ended our marriage. My daughter even helped introduce me to someone new. Not long after the divorce, I began a new relationship. But just as I was preparing to remarry, my ex-husband suddenly sued me. He accused me of cheating during our marriage. My own children appeared in court and testified against me. They confirmed his accusations. No matter how hard I tried to explain, no one believed me. In the end, I walked away from the divorce with nothing. My new boyfriend and I were dragged through the mud online. [You shameless old woman. One foot in the grave and you're still chasing another man!] [At your age, you’re still getting divorced? Hope you and your little side piece stay together.] A few self-righteous, extremist internet vigilantes broke into my home. They tied my boyfriend and me to a bed, poured gasoline over us, and set us on fire. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my children first tried to convince me to get a divorce.

After winning 800 thousand dollars, the first thing I did was rush to the hospital to pay for my daughter's surgery and treatment. Then, out of nowhere, a colleague called. "There's an extremely urgent situation at the company. You need to come back and handle it right now!" My husband took the bank card from my hand and, with thoughtful understanding, said, "Tell me the PIN. I'll go pay for Alicia's surgery. You head back to the company and focus on work." In my past life, I trusted him without hesitation and hurried back to the office. Before my daughter could even make it into surgery, I received a police summons instead. It turned out my husband had conspired with my colleague to file a report against me, pinning the crime of embezzling company funds—money my colleague had actually stolen—on me. With no money for treatment, my daughter died in the hospital. My parents, shattered by grief, suffered heart attacks and passed away. I ended my own life in prison, consumed by bitterness and regret. After death, my soul drifted to where my husband was vacationing abroad. I heard him say to my colleague with my own ears, "That stupid woman wins such a huge jackpot and only knows how to waste it on that worthless daughter's medical bills, dragging me into a life of hardship! "Now their whole family's deaths have bought us endless wealth and luxury. Consider it that idiot woman's compensation to me. Hahaha!" When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very moment my husband took the bank card from my hand. This time, I still told him the transfer PIN.

When my best friend, Dulcie Quinn, and I went to Westhaven on vacation, my boyfriend, Shane Lewis, got me a lower berth in a soft-sleeper. Before I boarded, he pointed at the dark circles under his eyes. “I spent three days trying to snag you a lower berth so you’d be comfortable on the trip. “So no matter what, don’t give it up to anyone else. Not even Dulcie.” He looked so serious that I nodded and told him I understood. Sure enough, as soon as we boarded, Dulcie, who had the berth above mine, asked if we could switch. Remembering what Shane had told me, I shook my head and said no. I explained it to her too. I never expected something to go wrong that very night. When she climbed down to use the bathroom, she missed the handrail and fell. Clutching her stomach, she screamed, “My baby! My baby’s gone!” I did not even have time to ask when she had gotten pregnant. I rushed her off the train and took her to the nearest hospital. Late that night, Dulcie’s husband, Wallace Lambert, arrived at the hospital with Shane. By then, she had already undergone a D&C. The moment she saw me, she pointed at me and started cursing me out. “Do you have any idea how much I sacrificed for that baby?” Shane blamed me too. “I thought you were just joking when you said you were jealous of Dulcie. I never imagined you’d be cruel enough to do something like this!” I didn’t even get the chance to say a word before Wallace slammed me against the wall and strangled me to death. After I died, Dulcie ended up with Shane. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to three minutes before boarding the train.

My in-laws-to-be are poisoned, but my fiancé insists on going fishing with his true love. I don't stop him. In fact, I lend him my car. In my past life, he chose to take his parents to the hospital after I stopped him. However, his true love died at sea and ended up being eaten by the sharks. My fiancé was normal after her death. However, when we were on our honeymoon, he stabbed me and pushed me into the ocean. "It's all your fault, Fiona! I failed to save Lauren because of you! Now that she's dead, you don't deserve to live, either!" The scent of my blood attracted the sharks. They ripped me to pieces before I could drown. When I open my eyes again, I find my in-laws-to-be lying in their bed. My fiancé runs off to save his true love. Ultimately, he still regrets his actions.

My younger sister, Celine Lowen, always goes home with her boyfriend, Jeffrey Burton. The thing is, she never uses any contraception when it comes to physical intimacy. When I ask her for the reason, that's when I find out that she gets her back entrance pounded all the time. I tell her that her anal region is very vulnerable, and that it's easy for her to pick up STDs if she keeps using it. In the modern times, everyone is very open-minded about physical intimacy. The one who truly loves Celine won't care about her virginity or lack of. Celine takes my advice very seriously. Later on, after she breaks up with Jeffrey, our mom introduces her to a rich scion named Gabriel Tate. On their wedding night, Gabriel gets into a fight with Celine simply because she doesn't shed any blood during their consummation. The next day, everyone knows about this incident. Feeling very humiliated, Celine pins the blame on me. She dunks my head into a pot of boiling water, her expression already twisted into one of ruthlessness and violence. "This is all your fault! I'd definitely be a rich wife by now if I were still a virgin! No one would make fun of me at all!" When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Celine tells me she doesn't use any contraception at all.

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.

Back when I was 15, I gave my extraordinary luck to Whitney Johnson. Six months later, her wealthy parents showed up at the orphanage and took her home. At 18, I stopped her from dating the school heartthrob, who later died in a car accident. Whitney blamed me for his death. She tore up my admission ticket for college entrance exam, made me miss the test, and completely ruined my life. I ended up homeless, yet it wasn't enough for her. She pushed me into the river and drowned me. Now, as I open my eyes, I realize I've been reborn and returned to when I was 18. This time, I'll never give her my extraordinary luck again.