71 Book(s) Related to kahara hodges

Two worlds, one nightmare… Cait Weerd has no idea the undain are hunting her. She doesn’t know the vile creatures need her blood to survive. She doesn’t even know she’s a witch, descended from a long line of witches. Cait Weerd doesn’t know much, but all that’s about to change. At Manchester Central Library, she’s caught in the crossfire between the witches and the undain, two worlds fighting for an old book. Cait takes the book and is told to run, hide the book or destroy it. The undain’s secrets are buried in its pages, and they want it almost as much as they want her. The fate of two worlds is at stake. Cait has to decide what to do: run, fight, or hope it all goes away. But then she learns who she really is, along with the terrible truth of what the undain have been doing in our world all this time…

Allen's hope is a kind-hearted and intelligent boy who lives with his family in the mountains. He became his family's breadwinner after his father's death, making trips to the nearby village to sell charcoal. Everything changed when he came home one day to discover that his family was attacked and slaughtered by a demon. Hope and his sister Gwen were the sole survivors of the incident, with Gwen being transformed into a demon, but still surprisingly showing signs of human emotion and thought.
What do you think will happen to Hope as he journeys to England in search of the demon king.
Stay tuned and comment.

"You wear her face, but you bleed differently. Tell me, pequeña mentirosa, who are you really?"
When Isabella Moreno identifies her twin sister Sofia's mutilated body in the San Isidro morgue, her world doesn't just shatter—it ignites.
Sofia wasn't supposed to be anywhere near the cartel underworld. She was the good twin—sweet, trusting, working as a trauma nurse, engaged to a respectable doctor. She was everything Isabella wasn't: innocent, hopeful, loved.
But someone put three bullets in Sofia's chest and dumped her body in the River Rojo like garbage.
The police call it gang violence. Case closed. Another statistic in a city that bleeds daily.
Isabella knows better.
She's spent five years as a DEA intelligence analyst, building cases against the very cartels that rule San Isidro. She's seen the patterns, knows the players, and recognizes the signature of a professional hit when she sees one. Sofia's murder wasn't random—it was an execution. And every trail of blood leads to one man:
Damián Flores, heir to the most powerful cartel in Mexico.
Devastatingly handsome, Princeton-educated, and colder than the blade he's rumored to wield personally, Damián took control of the Flores Cartel after his father's assassination three years ago. He's turned the organization into an empire—ruthless, efficient, untouchable. The DEA has tried for years to build a case against him and failed. He's too smart, too careful, too protected.
But Isabella has something the DEA doesn't: Sofia's face.
The twins were identical—same dark hair, same amber eyes, same delicate bone structure. When Isabella assumes Sofia's identity, no one questions it. Not Sofia's grieving fiancé. Not her hospital colleagues. And definitely not Damián Flores, who appears at Sofia's favorite café three days after the funeral with an expression that makes Isabella's blood run cold.

With Charles' strokes, the slapping and banging of flesh was loud and unmistakable, the woman's slender arms couldn't support her body any longer, and she kept moving forward, and finally her whole upper body slumped down, her breasts crushed into two white cakes, her legs shivering straight up, while her buttocks bucked high, but she no longer had the strength to cater to it.
“Ah ...... ah ...... orgasm ...... orgasm ...... orgasm ...... ”
Charles pinched her ass, the speed of thrusting is getting faster and faster, the whole body seems to be like a pile driver, will be thick and long meat stick, one by one into the woman's body, supporting the two legs on the ground, the muscles are like iron, the raging strength, almost to smash the woman underneath.
Inside more and more intense, the doorway Zoe heart also hangs higher and higher, she bit her lip, fingertips in the crotch peeled open wet pussy lips, looking for a meatball, also do not need to be taught, rubbing up fiercely, at once the body as if electrocuted.

Zoe Perkins travels back to 2004 Philadelphia, changes from male to female, and is determined to use her knowledge of the future to change her fate. She plans to accumulate wealth through gambling and investing, but falls into blackmail at a nightclub and is forced to train as a sex servant. Then she stumbles upon Charles Lewis, a child of a high-ranking official, and new opportunities and challenges await her .....
How will she cope with the change in her identity? Will she be able to change her fate and realize her dreams?

She was meant to be a Luna. So swore she’d become an Alpha instead. Born into a powerful Alpha bloodline, Seraphina "Sera" Nightbane spent her life preparing to lead. But in a world where only male Alphas rule, her fate was sealed—an arranged marriage to the ruthless Alpha King. Rather than live out her life in a cage, Sera vanished on the eve of her wedding, disguising herself as a boy to enter Lupine Academy, a brutal training ground for future Alphas. She’s determined to prove herself. That’s when Ronan Volkstane enters the scene. Cold, dominant, and dangerously perceptive, Ronan is a born predator. He sees Seth Darven as a challenge, a rival… even though something about him feels off. He’s determined to uncover the truth, no matter the cost. As tensions ignite and secrets unravel, Sera must fight for her place, her freedom… against the one Alpha who might destroy everything she’s built or claim her completely.

"Say it again," His hand travelled down to my belly, deliberate and sinful, threatening to touch places he shouldn't. "Tell me you still hate me."

"I hate you," my voice turned out weak, drowning by the desire that only him can give. "After tonight, I'll drag you to hell with me."

A sexy chuckle escaped from him as his tongue ran through my jaw. "Hell will be heaven as long as I'm with you."

Maeve Bloodmoon’s life was perfect—until a brutal purge under the Alpha King’s order turned her life upside down. With her family and whole pack dead by the hands of the man she trusted the most-—the King’s son—Maeve’s heart was crushed into pieces until it was nothing but speck of dust.

Years later, she returned. With a heart as hard as steel and a mind filled with revenge, Maeve infiltrated the palace. Hidden under a false name and an armor of a knight, she swore that every sword she yields will bring her to her goal: to avenge her pack, destroy everyone who ruined her bloodline, and usurp the throne.

But fate is never merciful. With her old lover and traitor being the high commander she needs to bow to, Maeve needs to make sure her mask won’t crack. Not when the strong bond that connects him to her refuses to die and threatens to shatter everything she has built.

There's a heavy iron door at the end of the hall. Anyone who steps inside returns with eyes full of hatred. That’s all it took for the basement to turn my gentle fiancé into a predator and my loyal best friend into an enemy. Now, I'm trapped with a mother who claims the violence is all in my head. I have to open that door.

Kiara, an alluring young lady was a big time slut. That was her only speciality. She was given birth to by a prostitute and was also brought up by a prostitute. Don't get it twisted, they were two different women. So you wouldn't blame her, would you? It runs in the blood.

As a prostitute that she was, she was not meant to love but what happens when she fell for a player?

Alexander, the heir and only successor to Alexander group of companies. His companies were well known and highly acknowledged in the whole Texas. In spite of how young Alexander was, all his employees feared him. He was so rude and sensitive.

He gives absolutely no damn about anyone- well, maybe except one person though; His grandma- his weakness. And maybe his best friend as well; Mack. Alexander was a handsome young man, a big time player; who screwed ladies with no strings attached. He was forced to get married at his young age in order to get rid his wayward attitude, but as a player that he was, would he agree easily? And what happens when a player incredulously acknowledged a slut?

"STRIP".. ,, HADES said in his bold , authoritative and demanding tone.His eyes held anger and temper which send fears to her. Every Fibres of her body was shaking under his powerful and dominance gaze. She stood at her Place and didn't know how to react on his words.

"I said Strip My wife".. ,, This time his voice made her trembled and with Shaking hands she started to open her wedding dress.

She removed her veil and looked at him. He was staring back at her with his intense pitch black orbs.

"Remove Your Ornaments Too"..,, He spoke when she stopped removing her Wedding dress. She removed her jewellery but left Golden Nuptials Chain Which he tied around her neck. Her glossy eyes were locked with his blazing eyes

"I don't have the whole Night" ... ,, Hades voice echoed in the room. Her breathing was low and sweats started to appear on her body.

She opened the strings of her wedding skirt and in a flow it fall down on the floor. With trembling hands she again pulled the strings of her blouse and opened the hooks. Now she was in her red lacy lingerie. However ,Not even for a second His eyes moved down and wandered at her curvy body.

His eyes were fixed on her eyes and she was gazing back at his beautiful deep black eyes. He stood up from the bed and came near her. She took a few steps back but the wall stopped and supported her body to stand properly. He bent and tilted his head and whispered in her ear. His husky deep voice and hot breath released thousands of butterflies in her stomach.

"You're not up to my standard".. ,, He said and left her in the room all alone on their wedding night. His words pierced her heart and a hurtful Chuckled came out of her mouth.

Tears were flowing through her eyes but she smiled sadly and said, "My name is DURGASHAKTI, husband and I'm not weak like you thought of me"

Story Of HADES and His PERSEPHONE

“A powerful opener to a series [that] will produce a combination of feisty protagonists and challenging circumstances to thoroughly involve not just young adults, but adult fantasy fans who seek epic stories fueled by powerful friendships and adversaries.”--Midwest Book Review (Diane Donovan) (re A Throne for Sisters)“Morgan Rice's imagination is limitless!”--Books and Movie Reviews (re A Throne for Sisters)From #1 Bestselling fantasy author Morgan Rice comes a new series for middle grade readers—and adults, too! Fans of Harry Potter and Percy Jackson—look no further!In THE ORB OF KANDRA: OLIVER BLUE AND THE SCHOOL FOR SEERS (BOOK TWO), 11 year old Oliver Blue is back in the present day, racing to save Armando before his destined moment to die.But when Oliver learns that the sacred Orb of Kandra has been stolen, he knows it is up to him—and him alone—to save the school. And the only way is to travel back in time, to the England of 1690s, and to save one very important person: Sir Isaac Newton.The Obsidian School, meanwhile, has powerful seers of its own, and all are bent on Oliver’s destruction. And when they enlist and transform Oliver’s bully brother, Chris, it may just mean a fight to the death.An uplifting fantasy, THE ORB OF KANDRA is book #2 in a riveting new series filled with magic, love, humor, heartbreak, tragedy, destiny, and a series of shocking twists. It will make you fall in love with Oliver Blue, and keep you turning pages late into the night.Book #3 in the series (THE OBSIDIANS) is now also available!“The beginnings of something remarkable are there.” --San Francisco Book Review (re A Quest of Heroes)

"Aveline Ashkaar." Rhaedon's voice was low as his golden eyes held mine. "The moment you offered yourself to become my Luna, everything about you became mine. Your life, your obedience, your blood... including the abilities that flow through it."

He paused, his gaze never leaving mine.

"And I don't share what's mine."

☆

I died on my son's death anniversary, betrayed by the man I'd devoted my entire life to, and the woman who stood by, smiling as I took my last breath… was my very own sister.

When I opened my eyes again, I was five years in the past—before the betrayal, before my death and before the beginning of it all.

This time, I refused to marry the man who destroyed me.

Instead, I walked straight into the arms of the only man the entire Empire feared—Crown Prince Alpha Rhaedon Ashkaar.

Rhaedon was everything Lucien wasn't.

Dangerous. Competent. Powerful.

And the perfect weapon for my revenge.

He wanted the throne. I wanted vengeance.

It should have been the perfect alliance, but revenge was never that simple.

With every step I took toward my revenge, another secret from my first life came to light. The deeper I dug, the more I realized I wasn't the only one playing this game.

And by the time I uncovered the truth...

Walking away from Rhaedon Ashkaar was no longer an option.

"You want a divorce?" His voice was ice, sending a chill down her spine. "You'll never get it."
For three years, Bellatrix devoted herself to Cillian Laurent—Miami’s ruthless tycoon and her indifferent husband—hoping to earn his love. But when she’s diagnosed with a life-threatening illness, she realizes the bitter truth: she was never his choice. Just a placeholder for the woman who abandoned him… and has now returned.
Determined to reclaim her life, Bellatrix demands a divorce. But the man who once ignored her now refuses to let her go. As buried secrets unravel, she discovers their twisted marriage was never what it seemed.
Can she break free from a love that was never hers?
Or will his obsession destroy them both?

"Ms. Crawford, it’s time for you to divorce Mr. Larsen and come home. You're the only heiress the Master's waiting for.”
•
For the sake of love, Amara accepted the arranged marriage with Tobias William Larsen. She did everything to gain her husband’s heart but when his old love returned, she realized that all her effort was all for naught.
Tobias demanded a divorce on the night of their wedding anniversary, even at the price of threatening her. Heartbroken, she finally dropped all her illusions about him and returned home to be the heiress.
The next time she met Tobias, they were no longer couples but opponents.
"Mr. Larsen, should I remind you again? We've divorced."
"Amara, that's the stupidest mistake I've ever made. Please come back to me."

I never expected to be branded a “fake heiress” and a “scheming bitch” on my own wedding anniversary.
“Did you really think we’d never find out you faked the DNA test?” My mother’s voice cut like a blade. “You’ve been impersonating our real daughter all along.”
The irony was suffocating. They were the ones who stormed into my peaceful life, insisting that I was their long-lost child—no proof needed. And now they dared to call me the fraud.
“Since Camille has finally returned to where she belongs,” my father declared coldly, “it’s time for you to crawl back into whatever shadow you came from.”
Then came the final blow. My husband of five years didn’t even hesitate.
“I’ll have the divorce papers drawn up immediately. Don’t make this difficult, Mirena. You were never meant to be my wife.”
Overnight, I was discarded. The scandal of the city. The woman who stole a life that was never hers.
But they forgot one thing: I never needed them.
Before I was George Ashton’s wife, I was Mirena Sterling—the Investment Queen. The woman who broke Wall Street records before she turned twenty-five. A racing champion. A tech prodigy.
I walked away from all of it. Gave up my empire. My crown. My name. All for a man who threw me away like garbage the moment someone “better” came along.
Big mistake.
On the night they cast me out, soaking wet and humiliated, I ran into the last person I ever wanted to see.
“Look at you now, Mirena,” Alexander Pierce murmured, watching me with those piercing eyes. “The woman who once ruled the financial world. Reduced to this.” He tilted his head. “And for what? Love?” A dark laugh. “Pathetic.”
My former rival. The man who spent years trying to beat me—and never once succeeded. Now he stood before me, a Wall Street titan, watching my downfall with hungry satisfaction.
He thought he’d seen the last of me.
He was wrong.
The game was simple now: drop the dead weight, reclaim what’s mine, and remind everyone why they feared my name.
Within months, I was back. Every market moved when I breathed. Every headline screamed my return. The Sterlings came crawling, begging for mercy they’d never shown me. And George? He watched in horror as I bought his most prized company without blinking.
The divorce he’d so eagerly signed? His greatest regret.
“Mirena, please,” he begged, groveling at my feet. “Give me another chance.”
I didn’t even look at him. “Sorry, darling. I don’t recycle trash.”
But what I didn’t expect was him.
Alexander Pierce dropped to one knee in front of me—the man who had once mocked my fall, now looking up with something raw and undisguised in his crimson gaze.
“I knew you’d take back everything they stole,” he said, voice low. “Now…” A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. “Take me too.”

Roxanne Grant has always been one to live her life according to her rules. Blessed with a handsome and capable fiancé and a dream job, she couldn’t have imagined a life better, until she discovers that her fiancé had been cheating with his secretary for a long time.
Enraged and heartbroken, Roxanne decides to take revenge but accidentally bumped into Lance Laurent, Los Angeles’s hottest bachelor and heir to Laurent cop and the stepbrother of his fiancé.
After that one steamy night, things began to get more complicated, spiraling out of Roxanne’s control and down a lane of lust.
And much to her surprise, the L.A’s hottest bachelor doesn't plan on letting go of her anytime soon.


"Thinking of another man while having me? Tell me, is my time a joke to you, woman?” Lance had grabbed her chin to meet his gaze harshly.
With his words, Roxanne grinned as she placed the last of her concerns behind. Wrapping her legs around his waist and pulled him closer, she answered him in a slurry voice.
“You have my full attention now, so you better make it worth the while.”

I lay there as still as possible, looking up at Dimitri who was staring down at me. My heart started to beat faster. This shouldn't be happening, but the rapid pulsating of my heart, and the butterflies in my stomach spoke differently. Dimitri did not stir from his position, the silence creating thick the tension between us.

I watched as his eyes traced down to my lips then back to my eyes. He slowly started to lean down. I shouldn't let him, but I remained frozen. His lips traced against mine. He let go of his wooden sword to keep his balance. He kissed me harder, and I was tangled in the hurricane of emotions building inside of me. My one arm wrapped around his neck and hair, both of us struggling for air.

Both of us lost in the moment.

My name is Ava. I was kidnapped in the year 2020...

and forced to work as a slave in a medieval future. I was assigned to work for Dimitri Monroe, oldest and heir to the powerful Monroe Estate.

Now I am ensnared in danger and plots creeping through the walls and people who reside in the castle. I cannot trust anyone.

A deal had been struck. If I help Dimitri survive and overthrow his father, I may yet earn my freedom. If I fail, I will lose my life, in a horrible way.

My goal is to find my way back home to my family, and my brother, and so I will do whatever it takes. Nothing and no one will stop me.

Or that is what I thought.

“Gabriel Bryce, how can you stand being so shameless?” Leonica asked, staring daggers at her atrocious husband and his mistress. “This is the house gifted to my by grandmother, yet you dare bring another woman into it? Aren’t you afraid that grandmother would be disappointed with you actions…?”
Leonica’s words remained unfinished as an enraged Gabriel swung his hand through the air, smacking his palm clean on her left cheek.
Leonica held her throbbing cheek, eyes wide and teary as she stared at her husband who glared down at her ferociously.
“The nerves of you to mention my grandmother. You have no right to do so!” He spat, taking a step forward and jabbing his index finger painfully into her shoulder, making her take several steps back. “Bare this in mind, Leonica Romero, if not for the wishes of my late grandmother, I’d much rather be dead than associate myself with somebody like you.”
~* *~
Leonica Romero has always had a long time crush on Gabriel Bryce, CEO of Bryce Empire and Norway’s Business tyrant. Fortunately, at the request of his Ill grandmother, her family’s long time friend, Leonica gets the chance to marry her beloved.
Feeling elated, she abandoned her position and dream job in the Romero household and becomes a humble housewife for Gabriel. However, Three years later, on the day of Gabriel’s grandmother’s funeral, Leonica is stunned speechless when he demands for a divorce, as his ex girlfriend Angelina Fernandez had suddenly returned, proclaiming her undying love for him.
But that wasn’t the only shock Leonica received that day. Hours after Gabriel’s declaration for a divorce, Leonica wakes up in the hospital to a shocking news.
She was two months pregnant.
And Gabriel knew nothing about this!

Amelie Never thought that her life could get any worse until she was drugged and sent to the bed of the world's richest man by her conniving stepsister and stepmother.
Zacharie LaCroix is the world’s richest man. He has everything that could make a man envious and make women drool. Yet rarely did they know that Zacharie had secretly suffered from a strange illness for years, which leaves him with numerous strange scars all over his body when he has a relapse.
All that changes after a steamy night with Amelie.
Amelie seemed to be the cure for his strange illness. However, Zacharie didn't notice that at that moment.
He walked away from the room without bothering to inquire about her name, leaving her stepmother and stepsister a chance to get rid of her. They tossed her body off a bridge in the middle of the night, believing that they had won...
But Eight years later, Amelie returns with two cute babies and she wants nothing more than revenge.

Eva Fransis had everything—until the people she loved most took it all away.

Drugged and betrayed on her 18th birthday by her best friend, Eva's perfect life crumbled in a single night. A desperate escape led her into the arms of a stranger, and one forbidden night left her pregnant and alone.

Forced into a marriage she never wanted, Eva endured years of abuse, humiliation, and heartbreak—all while her husband lived off her family's wealth. The final blow? Catching him in bed with the very woman who destroyed her life.

Now, Eva is done being a victim.

She wants a divorce. She wants her freedom. She wants to give her children the life they deserve.

But her husband refuses to let her go—not out of love, but greed.

And just when she thinks things can't get more complicated, a powerful stranger appears, claiming to be the real father of her children.

He wants them back.

He wants her back.

She spent years protecting her heart. Now she must protect her children—even if it means facing the man from that unforgettable night.

Can she break free from her past? Or will she be stolen by the man who already owns a piece of her?

In the extreme cold of the apocalypse, I was bound to the Seraphim's Flame, gaining access to the tycoon's bunker.
My good brother Luke was so jealous he went mad and killed me with a single blow.
Reborn, Luke stole the "Seraphic Flame" and, like throwing away trash, kicked another dark, ugly stone to my feet.
He didn't know—Redstone was a blood-sucking evil, while Blackstone was the true god-level talent.
When the deathly gale of minus seventy degrees swept across the world, I activated the [Dimensional Fortress] of infinite space.
Tons of munitions, mountains of supplies, overwhelming heavy firepower…
I will stand on the frozen wasteland and watch that bastard, step by step, become the human battery I need.

In my previous life, I gave away all my resources to save people, but my godfather broke my legs and fed me to the zombies.
Reincarnated 30 days before the apocalypse, I borrowed millions to build a nuclear-proof bunker and bought twelve retired, violent, and rabid dogs.
Extreme cold descends. With nowhere else to turn and in a desperate attempt to survive, the priest forces a space-age ability user to pinpoint the coordinates of the area inside the bunker with the "highest concentration of heat," and then forcibly teleports to steal the bunker.
He landed laughing wildly, feeling the scorching heat wave hitting him, thinking he had taken over my generator room and greenhouse.
I sneered and remained silent through the bulletproof glass.
This idiot has no idea that the hottest place in my shelter... has never been the generator.

In my previous life, an endless polar night and frost-laden corpse tide swept through the entire city.
My wife and I took in her mother and younger brother out of familial obligation,
But when monsters attacked, they locked us outside the shelter and we were torn apart alive.
Opening my eyes again, there are only seven days until doomsday arrives.
My wife and I have reached a consensus—to hell with blood being thicker than water!
This time, we will build an icy tomb for them with our own hands at the highest point of this city.

In my past life, I was cheated on.
My wife is having an affair with my fitness coach, and even our five-year-old daughter isn't my child.
I filed for divorce, and she left with nothing. I thought my life couldn't get any worse—but then the apocalypse came, and I was bitten to death by zombies.
In her last moments before she died, I saw her family of three nestled in her lover's secluded mountain cabin, with plenty of food and drink, passing away peacefully in their old age.
God gave me a second chance.
Back on the day we signed the divorce papers, I smiled and said to my ex-wife, "You can have the villa, but I want Julian's dilapidated cabin."

A horde of 100,000 mutated beasts besieged the city, and a ten-meter-tall abyssal wolf pressed its claws against my throat.
My enemy, riding on the wolf's back, laughed maniacally, threw down the chains, and ordered me to kneel and surrender immediately.
The fortress garrison closed their eyes in despair. But looking at that gaping maw so close to my face, I let out a long sigh of relief, even laughing aloud.
"What are you laughing at, facing certain death?!" she shrieked.
"I'm laughing at your pathetic stupidity." I gently crushed a poison capsule in my sleeve. "You really think I threw down all my weapons and walked out of the city gates to face this 100,000-strong army to surrender?"
"That's because if the distance exceeds three meters, my genetic virus can't be precisely injected into this beast's lungs."

They call me a parasite.
An outdated piece of trash. A fraudster hiding in the clouds, sucking the blood of the empire.
They spat at my shadow, threw stones at my door, and made my daughter bind my wrists with spirit-binding silver.
Then they asked me if I had any last words.
I said, "The void is coming."
They burst into laughter.
Now, the sky has cracked open.
Those who once cursed my name are now kneeling in the ashes, begging me for help.
I sat on a cold rock on Greystone Ridge, gazing at the distant firelight.
I could have stopped it all.
But I choose—
To stand idly by.

My teammates viewed me as a mobile food supply and planned to butcher me before they ran out of rations.
They thought that as long as I died, they would win this "survival game."
However, they would never know that what I brought back from the depths of the ruins wasn't fear, but the highest-level administrative privileges of the entire logistics system. While they killed each other for a bag of expired biscuits, I had already locked the exit to this hell. Sorry, but in this settling of accounts, you aren't even qualified to be treated as bargaining chips.

I’ve been guarding a door in the Nevada underground for a hundred years. The system marks this place "Abandoned," and the official records claim I don't exist.
When the investigation team arrived, the leader was my old signal corpsman. He pretended not to know me and ordered his guards to drag me out like a piece of dead weight.
They shoved a young lad from the Rex family into the breach as bait, and while everyone screamed in horror, no one dared to move.
So, I jumped down to fish the kid out, using a bottle of beer to force back the tentacles reaching from the dark.
Then, I pulled on that dusty old uniform and pressed my palm against the master console—all thirty-two security protocols verified instantly.
The lead technician collapsed in shock: "This clearance level is restricted to the Chief Architect only."
He was right. I am.
The thing I’ve kept locked behind that door for a century woke up, whispering: "What do you want?"
I said: "Dinner."

I spent three years as a "useless son-in-law," humiliated in public by my wife, all to repay a debt of life-saving gratitude.
That night, she handed me a cup of poisoned wine, smiling as she told me to "disappear from this world."
But she didn't know that the wine served to terminate our contract of protection—and unchained my shackles completely.
When the fighter jets of the Northern Command cast their shadows over the entire estate, she finally knelt in the mud, crying out for "Adrian."
But this time, I will not look back.

In my previous life, my wife was addicted to black market gambling on football, which caused us to lose everything.
To make matters worse, a zombie horde then broke out.
We had no shelter and were quickly torn apart by a horde of frenzied zombies.
After being reborn, she planned to run off with all the money, then dump me and elope with her lover.
What she didn't know was that I had awakened the ability to read minds and knew all her plans.

They call me the "Savior," building altars for me amidst the ruins.
But they don't know that when I climbed out of the abyss, I had no intention of saving this species whatsoever.
I am not here to rebuild civilization; I am simply calculating exactly how many souls I must reclaim to fully awaken my Ark.

My fiancée's father called me a stray dog, worse than trash.
My rival forced me to crawl between his legs and trampled me into the mud.
They all thought I was just a piece of trash to be trampled on at will.
But they didn't know that I endured humiliation and hardship for a shocking secret order.

Betrayed to death by my own brother, I was reborn before the apocalypse descended.
He rushed to seize the god-tier [Copy] talent first, leaving the trash [Purification] talent for me.
He thought that with this talent, he'd have no worries and reign supreme in the apocalypse.
Meanwhile, I quietly closed the last door of my fortress.
He didn't know that his prized copying ability had a fatal flaw.

The day my daughter was declared brain dead, my billionaire wife was busy making soup for her first love, who was suffering from heart failure.
To fund a heart transplant for her first love , she made a phone call and injected our biological daughter with a large dose of nerve-blocking agents, taking her life .
The night before the burial, I begged her like a dog to come and see our daughter off one last time, but she impatiently scolded me on the phone: "Don't bother me with dead people all the time; the dead can't be brought back to life."
Later, on our sixth wedding anniversary, in front of all the wealthy and powerful in New York, she offered me a top-quality frozen fertilized egg as compensation, promising to give me a "new child."
However, when she opened the high-end gift box I gave her with a smile—
there was no so-called "new life" inside, only a completely drained bankruptcy liquidation document for a conglomerate, a waste receipt for the fertilized egg that had been flushed down the drain, and a high-definition video of her first love laughing at her in a club, saying she was "so easy to fool."

I was reborn. My younger brother stole the woman who had lost her leg and was blind, thinking he had seized the throne of the apocalypse.
He didn't know that her power in her past life stemmed from the pendant on my chest—which contained a fountain of life.
This time, I'm not a savior. I'm handing the spring over to the nation.
The Pentagon has given me a new designation: National Assets.
While the younger brother was being beaten up by his neighbor for a half-empty can of cola, the National Guard's superhumans had already begun clearing out the infected.
He called, his voice hoarse: "Her superpower is only enough to chill a glass of cola... You tricked me?"
I hung up the phone and went into the lab.
"What's the extraction rate of the spiritual spring water today?"

An epic cold snap struck, causing temperatures to plummet to minus eighty degrees Celsius.
My fiancée and best friend occupied my hillside villa, laughing hysterically as they watched a video of me nearly freezing to death.
In their eyes, once I turned into a solid block of ice, they could rightfully inherit my vast fortune and live in this warm, doomsday Noah's Ark.
But what they didn't know was that the video was n't real at all .
I stood in the temperature-controlled bunker twenty meters below them and cut off their main power.
The hunt was about to begin.

I was cursed, trapped in a "Trial of Sincerity"—I could only regain my freedom if she spoke the words "I love you" from the bottom of her heart.
For five years, I’ve taken bullets for her, gone to prison for her, and stood on the brink of death four times. She would only call me "my best friend" or say "I need you," but she never uttered those three words.
Four times, she abandoned me as I lay dying, rushing instead to the side of another man.
The fifth time, with a bullet in my abdomen and my insides exposed, I lay on the operating table. She finally wept, screaming "I love you"—once, twice... twelve times in total.
Too bad. After waking up from that fourth brush with death, I had already signed a Do-Not-Resuscitate (DNR) order.
This time, my heart has stopped beating. Not because of my wounds, but because I’ve made my choice: I won't let her save me.

My fiancée and best friend, whom I risked my life to protect, sold me to the brutal "Blood Blade Gang . "
They laughed as they watched me being kicked into a pool of radioactive waste like a dog, waiting for me to turn into a pile of bones.
But they didn't know that the deadly radiation not only failed to melt me, but also forcibly ruptured my genetic lock, awakening the [Nuclear Fury].
I rode back to the old camp in her heavily armored vehicle.
Those two scoundrels were still arrogantly bullying me: "I have the Blood Blade Gang backing me! The big shots are coming soon, you're dead!"
I sneered and slapped them away.
Idiots, look back! Your so-called powerful backer is kneeling in the vehicle, lighting my cigarette.

They all thought I was just a rogue soldier who had crawled back from the border, covered in gunpowder and looking for revenge for my family's old debts.
Everyone was guessing which building I would blow up next. Julian, as I expected, panicked.
He recalled all his elite personnel to the Vientiane Building, activated top-level security, practically turning the entire office building into an impenetrable fortress, and sealed off assets globally to prevent my "illegal theft."
But he made a mistake.
When he personally pressed the reset lock, attempting to regain control of the system through manual verification, he didn't hear the prompt of command execution, but rather the hydraulic hum emanating from the building's load-bearing walls—it was the "self-destruct program" he had personally signed, running as scheduled under the guise of my privileges.

In my previous life, I was the government-appointed hero of the apocalypse, dying on the frozen plains after the spotlight dimmed, feeding their glorious honor with my very life.
In this life, I tore up the script and rejected that performance they called "saving the world." When the so-called "hero" stands on the command deck once again, I am deep in the dark underground, clutching a scoreboard with my frostbitten hands—
After all, heroes are offerings reserved for history books; I, however, only want to ensure that this group of abandoned souls can survive through tonight.

After ten years of being a "consumable," I performed my final maintenance on the very day Vivian handed my life's work over to someone else. I didn’t argue or resist; I just signed the paperwork with a smile. When the Thorne Tower began to collapse floor by floor due to my final permission error, she finally realized that all the brilliance she boasted of was nothing more than the residual warmth I had fed her. Now, she kneels in the ruins, begging me to turn back time. I only find her voice… annoying.

I thought I was the luckiest person in the apocalypse.
My brother, a former special forces soldier, brought me supplies so I wouldn't have to face the horrors above ground.
My girlfriend comforted me over the radio, saying she'd cry in my arms once we could finally get out.
I lived underground for three years, grateful like a domesticated dog.
Until that day, when I pushed open the door, smelled fresh grass, and saw the swimming pool in the sunlight—that's when I understood that the so-called apocalypse was never outside, but behind the door they had locked me in.

We’ve been married for five years. Then, she got pregnant with someone else's child.
In front of everyone, she said: "Ethan doesn't want this baby. You've always wanted one, right? Fine, take it and raise it."
In that moment, I finally understood: she wasn’t incapable of loving someone—she simply never saw me as a human being.
I took off my wedding ring, left it on the tray, and bought a one-way ticket to the North. My family said I wouldn't survive in the frozen North; she said that without her, I was nothing.
Three years later, she tracked me down using the GPS hidden inside that ring. She pushed open the door to my attic room, finding only a note I’d left: "Don't look for me. We're square."

To fulfill a dying comrade's final request, I spent twelve years living in the shadows to protect his daughter. I took bullets for her, laundered her black-market assets, and eventually handed over my entire stake in the security empire. In her eyes, I am her father’s murderer; in mine, she is a mission—the only flicker of light left in my life. Until that fateful banquet, when she personally shoved me into the sights of mercenaries. Watching my blood bloom across her dress, she hooked her arm around my nemesis and ordered coldly, "Clean it up." In that moment, twelve years of devotion collapsed, and a heart that beat only for her finally learned to freeze. This time, I’ve decided to personally destroy the monster I raised.

The global freeze descended, and the apocalypse arrived right on cue. I seized all the critical supplies and evacuated first, leaving "the perfect base" behind for the two traitors who backstabbed me. They thought it was heaven, but little did they know that the entire fortress was a precision trap constructed of deception, scarcity, and despair. As the outdoor temperature plummeted to minus eighty degrees, I sat by the window, roasting venison and watching them through high-definition infrared, coldly observing as they lost their humanity in the desperate fight for a single bowl of sawdust.

In my past life, I personally dug up two alien meteorites, handing the blue one that granted "Frost Mastery" to my childhood friend, Mike. He repaid me by sealing me inside an ice wall, cursing me to "die like a piece of trash" in the minus 70-degree blizzard.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the initial blast site.
This time, I didn't even spare him a glance; I stuffed both meteorites into my pocket.
I transformed a missile silo into a doomsday bunker, brought my parents inside, and stockpiled ten years' worth of supplies.
When Mike arrived with a gang of thugs to smash my door down, I stood in the warm command center, watching half his face rot with frostbite on the monitor.
I didn't open the door.
This time, I am sending back the despair of my past life tenfold.

Victoria discovered that I hadn't submitted any supplemental medical expense claims for two weeks.
She assumed I had finally been disciplined and had given up what she called "the exploitative nature of the lower class."
Little did she know, my backpack held the signed divorce papers and my mother's death certificate.
As I turned to leave, I was still wearing the discounted trench coat she'd casually given me three years ago when we got married.
What she didn't know was that I, a deep-sea geology genius from MIT, willingly endured three years of her humiliation and ridiculous rules, just so my mother could stay in her conglomerate's private hospital to prolong her life.
Now, my mother has died because of unpaid bills , and even her ashes are carried by me in a cheap canvas bag.
Now that my loved one is dead, there's no need for me to continue being her obstructive dog on Wall Street. The lives she owed with those approval forms, I will settle with the collapse of her entire conglomerate empire.

On our wedding day, she vanished wearing the gown I had bought for her.
I didn’t chase her. Instead, I went back to the operating table.
For three years, I had paid off her debts and filled the holes she left behind—enough for her to live a second life. My heart couldn't take it anymore; I had a stent implanted, though she never knew.
Three days later, I died in the hospital corridor. My ECG flatlined.
She didn’t know. She was still at a cocktail party in another city, clinking glasses with someone else.
A month later, she came back, kneeling before my tombstone in tears.
But it was all too late.

In this apocalyptic world of extreme heat, I fight for water in the underground black market, and I risk my life to hoard supplies.
My internet-famous roommate enjoyed my efforts while hiding in the air-conditioned room, panting softly in front of three fill lights: "We need to slow down and reconcile with nature."
Later, she stole my supplies and sold them to drug lords, causing me to be roasted alive on the riverbed.
After being reborn, I turned and left.
"Don't you like a slow-paced life? Stay here and enjoy it."
The end times have only just begun.

Betrayed by my wife on the eve of the apocalypse, they stole the shelter keys and locked me in the heart of the zombie outbreak to die.
I felt no anger.
Three minutes to blast open the blast door, ten minutes to drain the billions from that despicable couple's overseas accounts,
and then I'd buy machine guns and artillery from the black market! The couple speeding down the highway had no idea that the "top-secret key" they were protecting was actually a bomb designed to detonate the defense system.
The real wasteland survival game had only just begun.

For three whole years, as the "partner" of the bourgeois empress Victoria, I remained the most docile shadow of her business empire. Everyone thought I was a beautifully kept ornament, but only I knew that beneath this glittering facade, every shadow was a chaotic situation I had quelled with my own blood and flesh. It wasn't
until she used her daughter's final resting place as leverage to appease her lover that I realized that marriage was nothing more than a deceptive hunt.
Now, I'm going to recoup the costs.