129 Book(s) Related to august alsina nobody knows

Nobody sees me.

Not at the orphanage. Not at school. Not anywhere.

Then a letter comes. A magic academy. A world I never knew.

I think I'll finally belong. I don't.

Here, I'm still invisible. Except to him.

The monster they all fear.

They say his black magic kills. They lock him in towers. They run.

I don't.

When his power almost kills me, I see it: not evil. Just lonely. Like me.

Now my mother is lost. A forbidden library holds the truth. And someone wants us dead.

They say loving him is suicide.

I say I've been dead for seventeen years.

What's a little more?

t the most expensive medical charity gala in Manhattan, Avery Hale came in through the service corridor because she hated cameras. She wore a black dress without a label, carried her own coat, and kept her name off every donor wall.

That was the point. For seven years, Avery had hidden the money she made from film scores and documentary royalties inside an anonymous foundation that paid for surgeries, trials, and second chances for children whose families had run out of all three. She had built Second Dawn quietly because quiet was the one thing her old family had never been able to take from her.

Then the Mercers saw her.

The parents who had adopted her and discarded her. The golden son they had asked her to fund, praise, and disappear for. The family that once called her selfish for wanting college now called her a fraud for standing in a room she had paid to build.

They thought Avery had slipped into the gala to beg. They thought the powerful man watching from the edge of the ballroom was only another rich stranger. They thought public shame would make her small again.

They were wrong about every part of her.

The day I died, my sister wore the wedding dress I had always dreamed of, and married my boyfriend.
My family felt no sorrow over my disappearance.
My brother suspected I deliberately avoided blessing my sister.
My silent father believed I was malicious, unwilling to see my sister surpass me.
My mother called me ungrateful and demanded I apologize to my sister.
They didn't care if I was alive.
They were only worried that my absence would sadden my sister by denying her my blessing.

My serpent mate has locked me in the castle, nine months pregnant. A dozen serpent guards watch me day and night. I can't even leave the room.

A month ago, his brother died in a hunting accident. He became the serpent clan leader. Then he brought back his brother's widow, the woman he grew up with. His first love.

He said he needed to take care of his brother's widow. He told me we'd all live together in the castle, nice and peaceful.

I said no.

I'm his mate. I'm a beastman. My pride won't let me accept that. And they grew up together, childhood sweethearts. How could I not think about it?

She came to him in tears, heavily pregnant. She said I poisoned her medicine, that I wanted to kill her and the baby.

He believed her.

He decided I was just some rogue beastman with no background, jealous and vicious, only after his title and money. So he locked me in this freezing castle while he camped outside her delivery room.

When labor hit, I screamed for a healer. I swore I never hurt her. I just couldn't live with her under the same roof. I only ever loved him.

He just laughed. "You're good at acting. I don't believe a word out of you. Once she delivers safely, I'll deal with you. Don't think you can trick me into coming back."

But when a trembling guard reported "Your mate and the child... they didn't make it," he lost it completely.

“Keep looking at me like that, princess,” Knox murmurs, “and I’ll give you something real to blush about.”

Yael swore she’d keep her distance. Her brother’s rival is a walking problem—inked arms, reckless smirk, and a reputation that makes parents pray. But every accidental brush, every stolen look, pulls her closer to the boy she’s supposed to hate. Knox doesn’t play by rules, and Yael’s resolve begins to crumble under his magnetic charm. Rivalry turns to obsession, and soon, staying away isn’t just impossible—it’s the last thing she wants.

Some flames are meant to burn.

On an August morning in 2010, the Mississippi gave up a corpse that shattered Willowbend’s quiet calm.
Half-eaten by catfish, the body was beyond recognition.
Most believed it was just another rainy-season drowning.
Only Dean, a disgraced New York cop, saw something else: murder.
As he follows the trail, Dean is drawn to Tara, the town’s newest arrival. She is wealthy, magnetic, untamed—the kind of woman who burns too bright to ignore.
The first time they had sex, Tara cuffed Dean to the bed.
The next morning, Dean wakes to a message from the coroner: a reconstructed image of the victim.
The face staring back is hauntingly familiar.
It looks almost exactly like Tara, still sleeping beside him.
Who was the dead woman?
Who is Tara?
And what secrets lie waiting in this river town’s depths?

Salem pairs with Malik Roane, her partner, to chase leads quietly. But trust starts to crack. Malik knows more about her past than he admits.

The killer escalates victims are murdered in ways tied to specific foster kids. One was drowned in a bathtub. Another buried with dolls stuffed in their mouths.

Salem visits Dr. Ezra Kade, who helped her after a traumatic incident she can’t fully remember. He urges her to access what she’s repressed.

Meanwhile, a viral influencer, Tasha Bloom, starts releasing video clips from an anonymous source. Each one paints Salem as unstable, dangerous… possibly guilty.

Someone is watching Salem. Filming her. They know what happened in that house. And now, the world might know too

Three years ago, Ethan disappeared.

The world believed the legendary operative known as Zero was dead, buried alongside the secrets that destroyed his life.

Then the rain began to fall.

When a series of explosions tears through Black Harbor, Ethan is forced back into a shadow war he thought he'd escaped forever. Old enemies return from the dead, assassins emerge from the darkness, and a mysterious organization starts hunting him once again.

But the deeper he digs, the more he realizes the attacks were never about the city.

They were about him.

Because some names are never forgotten.

And the rain still remembers his.

I was but eighteen when I found myself captivated by my best friend’s brother.

At twenty-one, I mustered the courage to confess my feelings. He welcomed me into his bed but never once into his heart.

For three long years, I reassured myself: "Just a little while longer. He will see me in due time."

Then Stella returned—the girl he had always yearned for, even while his hands roamed my body in the shadows.

He greeted her return with champagne and candlelight, and then, locking his gaze upon me amidst a gathering, he coldly declared:

"You crawled into my bed and offered yourself. Don't you see how cheap and pitiable you appear?"

I raised my eyes, meeting his once more.

"I shall no longer trouble you."

I retrieved my phone, navigated to a contact I had seldom engaged—my betrothed by arrangement—and typed: "I consent to the marriage."

“ Say my name, stepsister,” Aiden said, his voice filled with desire.
“ A…..Aiden” Hayley said with her eyes tightly shut in nothing but total pleasure.
“ But you aren't supposed to know how I taste” Hayley’s voice was shallowed, as she took numerous deep breaths to suppress the moans that wanted to tear out of her lips.


In a world where mate bonds are sacred, Hayley faced rejection from her mate, the future Alpha of the Shallow Blood pack. With no wolf and deemed unworthy of his affections, Hayley's heart was broken into a thousand pieces. As she tried to get over the rejection from her mate, her mom informed her of her new marriage and soon, a forbidden romance bloomed between her and her step-brother, a bad boy with a heart of gold and also the future Alpha of Moonlight Howl pack. Their love is a taboo and soon, the truth of their mate bond is revealed. There were challenges from all sides, including Hayley's mother, the Luna of the Moonlight Howl pack and also Aiden's stepmother, who sought to break their bond.
Will they be able to overcome the obstacles in their path and find happiness together, or will the forces working against them tear them apart?

Despite the treachery of traitorous wolves who betrayed her family, a seventeen-year-old princess is determined to reclaim her kingdom. While she gathers an army, she meets two very different men, a prince of dragons and a king of wolves, both of whom declare their love for her. In the middle of her duty to her kingdom and her growing feelings for them, the princess must decide who to trust before the fate of her entire kingdom lies in her hands. Seeing the man who claimed to love me when I was sixteen, balls deep in some dragoness, hurt my heart. It was stupid of me to believe we could choose our mate. My mistake was believing he loved me. The young dragon prince eagerly declares his love for me, but I know that he has a dragoness as a mate out there, and I have one as well. Having been raised by dragons, too many nights where I shed tears into my pillow, it is then I realized when my heart was broken at sixteen that it was time to build an army to take my kingdom back.

I’m a top assassin.

Three years ago, on a rainy night, I was being hunted when a stranger took a bullet for me. As he lay dying, he grabbed my hand and begged me to protect his son—and to keep living in his place.

To escape my pursuers and keep that promise, I changed my face, took his identity, and stayed by the boy’s side as his father.

His wife was arrogant, cruel, and constantly cheating. For the child—and to protect my cover—I endured all of it.

Until today.

She drugged me.

When I woke up, a doctor was holding a blade over my chest. They were about to take my heart.

Lying on that operating table, I finally learned the truth: her family had been trafficking organs all along.

That man died three years ago because he discovered it, and she arranged the crash that killed him.

She murdered the man who saved me. Now she wants to kill me too.

She still thinks I’m the same weak doctor who gets out of breath after a short run.

She doesn’t know I’m resistant to anesthesia.

And she definitely doesn’t know these hands have held scalpels—and snapped far too many necks.

I’m a werewolf.

Three months ago, I got involved in a back-alley “not my problem”—a man held a knife to a woman clutching her child. I rushed him and tore his throat out with my teeth.

Now the police are hunting me. My pack can’t protect me. The only option left is to slip out of the country.

The fixer at the meet hands me a bottle of “calming meds,” says it’ll get me through the checkpoints.

I smell the drugs anyway. I drink it.

When I wake up, my hands are tied behind my back inside a sealed metal cargo truck. Someone beside me is crying. Someone else is shaking.

That’s when I realize I’ve been sold into a trafficking ring. They slap a number tag on me, lock me in a steel cage, and wait for dawn to ship us out.

A guard cracks my face with a rifle stock—sure I’m just another desperate man trying to disappear.

He has no idea a cage can’t hold a werewolf.

Especially not tonight—under a full moon.

Three years ago, Detective Blaire Hayes survived a kidnapping that should have killed her.

She escaped with scars no one could see, a partner she couldn't save, and memories so shattered that entire pieces of that night have vanished from her mind. Every nightmare drags her back into the darkness she has spent years trying to outrun, but as a detective, she's learned to bury her pain behind a fearless reputation.

When a childhood friend's wedding draws her back to the small town she once called home, Blaire crosses paths with Cole Hastings, a decorated military veteran turned nightclub owner whose easy smile hides a past filled with guilt of his own.

Forced to work together, they begin chasing the same dangerous truth. Every lead uncovers another secret, every late-night stakeout chips away at the walls between them, and every stolen moment makes it harder to deny the powerful connection growing between them.

Just when Blaire starts believing she can finally leave her past behind, anonymous messages begin arriving on her phone.
Each one contains disturbing footage from the night she was kidnapped.

Each video reveals another piece of a memory she doesn't remember losing.

As the investigation pulls Blaire and Cole deeper into a web of lies, she leans on the one person she believes she can trust completely—her psychologist and childhood friend, Gavin Brooks, the boy who has been with her through it all.

But someone has been watching Blaire for years.

Someone has been patiently waiting for her to remember.

And as the truth finally comes to light, Blaire will discover that the man she's trusted with her deepest fears was the devil she has been searching for, and he has been right there all along.

I’m a retired special forces soldier.

Three months ago, my little brother vanished—and every lead went dead.

I tracked the trail to a private rehab clinic on a tropical island. On the surface, it’s wellness and recovery. Underneath, it’s an organ market.

Following the clinic led me to one person—her. She specializes in luring “donors” through the front door.

To avenge my brother, I got close on purpose and let her become my girlfriend.

She thought I was easy money, a body delivered to her table, and she brought me into that clinic herself.

She didn’t know I’d been waiting for this moment for three months.

On the operating table, the needle hovered three centimeters from my skin.

She thought I was finished.

She didn’t know these hands have held a gun—and snapped more than a few necks.

I was married to Vera for three years.

In those three years, every time we fought, I was the one who backed down first. She got used to being indulged, and she got used to using the silent treatment to make me fold.

Then a blizzard grounded my flight. I didn’t make it back for her birthday. She filed for divorce out of spite and left the country.

Three years ended without dignity.

A year after the divorce, Vera returned with a new jewelry brand and a high-profile comeback. Everyone assumed I was still waiting for her—she assumed it too.

At dinners, she hinted at reconciliation, using our old story to build hype for her brand. The circle started whispering that I’d end up back by her side.

I corrected it, again and again. She ignored every word.

What she didn’t know was that I already had someone new—and we were preparing to get engaged.

When she saw the engagement planning booklet, she convinced herself it was my signal to take her back.

I explained. She insisted.

Until the day of the engagement, when she stormed into the venue…

He was the most dazzling yet tragic golden-tier bodyguard of Apex Sentinel Group. Six years ago, betrayed by Robert, he was shot multiple times and thrown into the sea. On the brink of death, he was saved by the chemist Michael. Now, six years later, he has become the feared "Mr. M," master of Apex Global Enterprises. To repay the debt of his life, he returns to his old grounds, only to find his savior missing and his twin daughters in grave danger. As old enemies, greedy elites, and dark capital intertwine once more, the dormant warrior bares his fangs. This time, with absolute power, he will crush every conspiracy, protect those he holds dear, and make the world remember the terror of being dominated

I thought the scariest thing in school was the jock who harassed me. But then he vanished without a trace, and everyone blamed me.

There is no strong evidence to lock me away, so I walk the school hallways trapped in a living hell. The police watch my every move, the town hates me, and my adoptive parents treat me like an unwanted curse in their home.

Desperate to clear my name, I didn't realize the real danger was living right next door.

Xavi Moreau is the quiet, haunting boy who looks right through me. He doesn't live with his family; he lives alone in his own place. To the world, he is a handsome party guy who drinks, smiles, and blends into the crowd.

But I noticed the truth. His smiles are fake. His laughter never reaches his cold eyes. He is just copying the emotions of others to hide a dark, hollow soul.

When he notices my stares, his obsession shifts entirely to me.

Every single time he approaches me, I push him away. I deny him. I fight his terrifying presence with every ounce of strength I have left. But Xavi doesn't back down. He offers me the one thing I desperately need: a promise to find the truth and clear my name.

I wanted to find a killer to save myself, but the killer has already found me, and he has no intention of letting me go.

I had one plan for the summer after my college classes ended. I needed a job since I recently lost mine and my apartment. I can’t stay with my brother forever. I need my space back, and I am sure he needs his, too.

But all that is about to change when my brother’s best friend Paxton comes to stay for the summer, and my plans go out of the window.

To the rest of the world, Paxton is a millionaire rockstar who is a bad boy who screws around and is always getting himself into trouble he shouldn’t be. To me, he is the guy who was always around until he left and forgot about me. My first crush. My first love when I was a teenager, even though I knew he would never be mine. Back then, he was a good guy with a huge heart and someone who would do anything for anyone. He had become a shadow of himself.

What I didn’t expect was that one summer would change everything. I didn’t expect Paxton to see me in a different light. I tell myself I am over him and have been for a long time, but things change when we begin to spend more time together. I see the old him coming through, the real him, the one I fell in love with all those years, but none of it matters because nothing can ever happen, no matter how close we become. My brother would kill him. We would never work. I am just an ordinary nerdy girl who loves to lose herself in the world of fiction. And someone like me should never be with someone like Paxton. I would never fit into his new world. He would never be around in mine.

“I want this,” I told him boldly, looking at him squarely in the eyes. “I want you.” I peeled off my t-shirt and threw it to the floor, returning my hands to his chest.

“I don’t think you’re thinking straight,” Grant chuckled lightly. “I think you may have drunk a little too much at the party.”

My hands drifted to his boxers once again, making him realize that I was actually serious about this.

Rose is in love with her brother's best friend, Grant and the feeling is mutual.
Grant doesn’t have a steady home. His mom is never around and when she is, they fight. Trent and Rose is the only stable thing in his life.
Their parents abandoned them and Trent had to step up and become a parent to his little sister, which is why Rose never want to hurt him.

Both not wanting to hurt Trent, they keep their love a secret but the funny thing about secrets is that they never stay hidden.

Will Trent ever find out?

I’m a convenience store owner.

When the acid rain apocalypse hit, it ate through metal, wrecked power, and turned clean food and water into currency.

Last time, I made one mistake: I opened my door to my ex, Claire Voss, and her lover, Derek Hale. They didn’t come for shelter—they came for my stash. The blade in my abdomen taught me what mercy buys in a broken world. I killed them, but as my vision faded, the radio crackled with one final update: the disaster was ending.

Day thirty. I didn’t live to see morning.

Then I woke up—one week before it began.

This time I do only one thing: lock myself in my underground storage room with exactly thirty days of food and water, and wait for the rain to stop.

But Claire is hoarding again, louder than ever—embezzling money, emptying my shelves, trying to starve me in the first week so I’ll crawl back begging.

That’s when it hits me:

She thinks the apocalypse lasts forever.

She has no idea it only lasts thirty days.

She was rejected at her own mating ceremony.

Elara Whitmore’s world shatters when Alpha heir Kai Silvercrest chooses her best friend for power instead of love. Broken, humiliated, and exiled, she vanishes into the borderland with a rejected pregnancy and more hunters.

But she has planned that after two years, she returns in disguised as Sera Seahawks, and will destroy the man who ruined her life.

But when she steps into the borderland, she immediately knew that everything won't go as planned. And with all the new troubles she was still able to go back for revenge.

And for some bitter reasons, she hope it won't be too late for her plans to work

Viona Leander is certain that she carries the memories of Nadine Myer, a journalist who died a month ago, so she can take revenge on the fiancé who betrayed her with her own friend.
After going to great lengths to seek vengeance, she discovers that the real reason she awakened in Viona’s body was never revenge at all. It was to heal the heart of a man she had broken over and over again.

Five years ago, Leon was framed, stripped of everything, and sent away in disgrace.

The world believed he was a criminal.

What nobody knew was that he became the most feared ruler of the underground world—the King who commanded assassins, mercenaries, and powerful organizations across the globe.

When he finally returns to San Francisco, he discovers a shocking truth.

The woman he accidentally spent one unforgettable night with has raised their daughter alone for five years.

Sophia hates the man who ruined her life.

Little Mia has never met her father.

So Leon hides his true identity and takes a humble job as Sophia’s assistant, determined to protect them from the shadows.

But enemies from the past are closing in.

Corrupt billionaires.

Powerful families.

Deadly gangs.

And the conspiracy that destroyed Leon's life five years ago.

They all made the same mistake.

They thought he was just an ordinary man.

They have no idea that Mia's father is the most dangerous king in the world.

Eleanor Vance thought she had married for love—until she saw it on her husband's Instagram "Close Friends" story: a photo of him with his first love and their "family of three" on a Hampton yacht.
As one of the world's top art restorers, Eleanor could repair any damaged masterpiece—but she could not mend her own broken marriage.
In the world of Arthur Sterling, Wall Street financier, marriage was nothing more than a contract, and a wife nothing more than a flawless PR asset. When his first love, Selina, returned to the country with "his child," Arthur did not hesitate to choose to protect them—yet he trapped Eleanor in a gilded cage, using his family's power as a chain.
Ten million dollars for a divorce. Her father's mounting medical bills. Her brother's tuition fees. Each one was a meticulously designed shackle.
But what Arthur did not know was that Eleanor was his only emotional anchor. The cool scent of turpentine on her skin. The way she lost herself in restoring a painting. The way she interpreted the humanity behind every brushstroke for him—these were the only sensations through which he could still perceive "peace."
When Eleanor finally scraped together enough money for the divorce, when she began to flinch at his touch, when she used industrial solvent to destroy a masterpiece she had spent five years restoring—and told him, "This is what your soul truly looks like. A forgery that can never be restored"—only then did Arthur realize: losing her meant losing the only way he knew how to feel the world.
But some wounds, like a painting washed away by solvent, can never be undone.

At Blackridge University, everyone knew the golden couple.

Taylor Hastings—the fierce, scholarship student who clawed her way to becoming head cheerleader—and Rowan Hayes, the hockey captain who treated her like the center of his universe.

They were campus royalty.

Until the video leaked.

One private night.
One humiliating betrayal.
And suddenly Taylor goes from adored to destroyed overnight.

Rowan swears it was an accident.

But Taylor knows the truth after hearing the whispers from his teammates… the jokes about the bet… the countdown they made over how long it would take him to get her into bed.

Their relationship was never love.

It was a game he won.

So Taylor decides to play one of her own.

Her target?
Hunter D’laurentis—the ruthless bad boy captain of Frostwood hockey and Rowan’s biggest rival.

Hunter wants one thing: the championship that could finally free him from his father’s suffocating control.

Taylor wants revenge brutal enough to make Rowan unravel before the biggest season of his life.

Fake dating should’ve been simple.

A few staged kisses.
A few jealous headlines.
A few public appearances designed to destroy a rival captain’s focus before the championship game.

But Hunter D’laurentis touches her like she’s something worth protecting instead of ruining.

And when the line between fake and real disappears beneath flashing cameras, screaming crowds, and bruised hearts, Taylor realizes revenge was never the dangerous part.

Falling for her rival was.

"What's wrong I did with you that you have been torturing me, for God's sake leave, I will never forget your favor, please..."
She pleaded with him with teary eyes. But he grabbed her silky hair in his tight grasp and said.
"Don't show me your crocodile tears, it's not impacting me, good man inside of me died a long time ago, the man who is standing in front of you is a stone made, a deaf stone, no matter how many times you beat your head with it, you will be at loss, what's wrong my dad and I did with you? nothing....but still I am suffering, and my dad.....my dad lost his life, turning someone else life into miserable, how you people can remain happy.....?
He was not n his senses.
She can't endure anymore, so she remains silent.
Shanzal, who came to know his sister has eloped with her lover on her very marriage day. To take revenge from the man with whom his sister ran away, he kidnapped the sister of that man and torture her brutally to death.
But the reality was far from what he perceived. Later on, when he came to know about the fact he has already done more harm than any good.

Four years ago, Giovanni dumped me in front of everyone at an upscale restaurant. Two weeks later, he was engaged to Rosanna. I made a fool of myself begging on his doorstep, became the laughingstock of Ferro City.
Four years later, he runs into me at Casa Valentino, assumes I'm destitute, and offers me a job as a cleaner for him.
What he doesn't know is that the plainly dressed woman standing before him is the wife of Don Alessandro Valentino—the man the entire underworld bows to.

"What if one day he discovers that I'm not the woman he married?"

"Then you'll have no choice but to become her."

I was a nameless assassin with no legal identity. To buy my freedom, I accepted what seemed like the perfect assignment—help a wealthy heiress disappear.

But when I met my client, I was stunned.

She had my face.

Instead of asking me to kill her, she asked me to become her... and marry a man she had never even met.

One wedding transformed me from a disposable weapon into the new Mrs. Sinclair. To survive, I had to learn everything about Vivian—her habits, her smile, her friends, and her family. I had to fool everyone, especially the man who was now my husband.

The deeper I stepped into the Sinclair family, the more I realized this marriage was anything but ordinary. A ruthless mother-in-law, the dangerous power games of the Round Table families, the mysterious organization that created people like me, and the runaway bride who vanished without a trace... Every secret drew me further into a web of lies.

But the greatest danger wasn't being exposed.

It was Sebastian Sinclair.

The man who was supposed to be nothing more than my fake husband began protecting me, trusting me, and showing me a tenderness that was never meant for "Vivian."

But when the truth finally comes out—that the woman he married is not his bride, but a trained assassin living under a stolen identity—

Will our marriage built on lies survive... or will it become the deadliest mission of my life?

They said we were perfect for each other.
I believed them until I clicked on a video that shattered everything.
My husband and his adopted sister was sleeping on our bed.
Eight years later.
My ex came to me.
He wants to prove he's changed.
I don't need his redemption.
The manuscript between us reveals the truth he tried to bury.
Every lie, every cancellation, and every moment I diminished myself for a man who cheated me.
Now, he must edit the story of how he destroyed me.
I'm going to make him read every word.
This isn't about forgiveness.
It's not about second chances.
It's about a woman who learned that the best revenge isn't making someone regret losing you. It's building a life so full that their absence becomes irrelevant.
“Ex, Know Your Place.”
“My Life Has Long Been Unrelated to You.”

I've been secretly married to him for five years, but he's never treated me as his wife. Our six-year-old daughter has never called him Dad in public.

One drunken night, I got pregnant. He gave me a marriage contract that came with one condition: secrecy.

I thought time would change everything. I stood by him through the company's darkest days. When I was hospitalized with a bleeding ulcer, he didn't come. When our daughter was born, he was in a meeting. Every moment that mattered, he wasn't there.

Then that clumsy intern showed up.

From that point on, he gave her all his attention and patience. He broke his own rules for her again and again. That's when I finally understood: when someone doesn't love you, they just don't.

So I took my daughter and disappeared from his world completely.

But why did that calm, controlled man lose his mind?

To everyone in town, I was just a sixty-five-year-old retired man.
I lived in an old house, drove an old car, and showed up at the same diner every night to eat the cheapest meal on the menu in my usual corner.

Then one night, the waitress who always refilled my coffee sat across from me after closing, eyes red, and told me her boyfriend had disappeared.
People were watching her, pressuring her to hand over a “ledger” she had never even seen.

I wanted no part of it.
I had left that kind of life behind a long time ago, and I had sworn never to use my hands for anyone again.

But the next day, she didn’t show up for work.
Her phone was dead. She was gone.

I went into their territory alone.
They thought they were dealing with nothing more than a nosy old man.
By the time I started moving, they realized they had picked the wrong target.

In my last life, for the spy I executed, she framed me for treason and injected me with the zombie virus herself.

I died in a dungeon—by the hand of the one I trusted most.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back before it all began.

This time I didn’t interfere. I watched coldly as she got scratched, handed the only dose of serum to the spy, and as the gates swung open and he finally showed his true face.

At last she believed me, kneeling in the dirt, begging for forgiveness.

I looked into her eyes as they clouded over. “I warned you in my last life. You didn’t believe me.”

This life, every blade she wanted for me—lands on her instead.

To the rest of the world, I was just a blue-collar "oil rig worker" battling the sun and storms at sea year-round.

But my true service record is locked deep in the Pentagon’s top-secret archives. Codename: "Ghost"—a specialist handling the military's deadliest black ops overseas.

The day my final mission ended, I pushed open my front door filled with anticipation, only to be greeted by a floor pooled with blood and smashed furniture.

An untouchable syndicate had beaten my wife black and blue and abducted my seven-year-old son, threatening to harvest him for the black-market organ trade.

Right now, safely holed up in a subterranean fortress, the arrogant syndicate boss is hiding behind multi-ton blast doors and dozens of hired guns, scoffing at the "cowardly" husband who only knew how to cry to the cops.

What they don't know is that, just a few minutes ago, I permanently shredded that disguise.

Let the hunt begin...

In my past life, I built an ironclad sanctuary in the zombie-infested wasteland, bleeding to keep four thousand people alive.
Yet the very people I risked everything to protect were brainwashed into overthrowing me.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back—right on the eve of that fatal rebellion.
Right now in the control room, my enemy has his arm around my wife. Fourteen rebels have their assault rifles pressed against my skull, laughing mockingly, convinced they've completely crushed this washed-up "Doomsday Tyrant."
What they don't know is that two days ago, I already emptied the bunker's entire stockpile of weapons and food.
You want "freedom" without rules? It's all yours.

In high school, my ex only dated me because she needed a dependable errand boy.

I believed it. I tutored her, fixed her grades, rewrote her papers, and cleaned up every mess she made.

Then I overheard her telling her friend, “He’s good at studying. That’s it. Dating him is already me being generous.”

At graduation, she dumped me without hesitation.

Years later, I became the CEO of a public company.

Her company was collapsing—cooked numbers, broken cash flow, investors pulling out—and she needed one deal to survive.

She didn’t know who I was.

She scraped my car in the garage, then warned me not to cling to her, saying the CEO she came to meet was way out of my league.

Then the boardroom door opened. She looked up and saw me in the seat at the head of the table.

She thought I’d use this to get revenge.

I didn’t. I just opened her file and said, “You may begin.”

After the apocalypse, I built Dawnlight Base.

On an outside run, I died in an ambush—blast, fire, bullets. I watched my blood sink into the sand and thought it was over.

Then I opened my eyes five years later, living in a stranger’s body.

On a transport truck, I was locked in an iron cage with guns trained on us. The others told me who I was now: a bottom-tier gate guard, “cargo” being sold by Dawnlight to a mining camp.

They said after my death, my girlfriend took the command room, promoted her own people, broke up my old crew and stripped their weapons. Mismanagement followed. Mining rights were pawned off. Then they started selling the living.

I escaped and slipped back under the wall.

The quarantine corridor at the North Gate had collapsed and no one repaired it. A long line waited at the ration point, bowls filled with water-thin gruel.

And my girlfriend was signing papers—inviting an outside warlord into the city to “share governance.”

A week later, his convoy rolled through the gate. From the command building’s second-floor window, I flipped the signal switch.

The gate dropped behind them.

When gunfire erupted from every direction, they finally understood—

I was back.

I am a time traveler from the modern world.

For three years, I traveled back and forth to the wasteland. By supplying clean water and food, I elevated a lowly scavenger into a wasteland lord commanding thousands of armed men.

But just as I finally found a way to end the apocalypse, she turned around and slept with a local thug.

Together, they plotted to steal the secret of my time machine, kill me, and turn my modern world into their personal "free supermarket."

She thought she had me completely wrapped around her finger. She believed that with just a few fake tears, her stupid "delivery boy" would obediently hand over all access and wait to be slaughtered.

But after overhearing their scheme, I didn't hesitate. I returned to the modern world and smashed the time machine to pieces.

Now, let's see how long her mighty reign will last without my help.

I am the lead architect of this massive virtual sandbox world.

To save my NPC wife from a fatal car crash, I enabled a cheat code for her and lied, claiming she was a "VIP player" paying to experience an immersive life-simulation game.

She bought it completely. Not only did she openly flaunt her wealth to buy off a male assistant in front of the whole company, but she also trampled all over me, treating me like a "low-level NPC."

"I am the absolute main character of this world, and the system will always bail me out. As for you, you're just a line of junk code. Get out of my sight immediately."

Watching her face become twisted and arrogant from the illusion of privilege, the last trace of warmth in my eyes completely died out.

I calmly signed my resignation, revoked all her financial shields and vitality armor with a single click, then logged off and returned to the real world.

I knew that the moment I left, stripped of my protection, she would be instantly swallowed alive by the brutal laws of survival.

In my past life, when the apocalypse hit, I relied on my training as an ex-Special Forces soldier to escort a group of arrogant corporate executives safely to a military base, fighting tooth and nail the entire way.

Yet, just to steal the vital supplies I had risked my life to gather and trade them for special privileges, they locked me out of the escape route the moment a zombie horde closed in.

When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn. It was the third day of our office building being surrounded by the undead.

A military rescue armored vehicle was waiting right downstairs. However, these corporate "elites" merely sneered in disgust. Still clinging to their superiority, they arrogantly demanded to stay on the 36th floor to wait for a supposedly incoming "private helicopter to a tropical island"—a rescue that I knew didn't exist.

In my previous life, I had practically begged and dragged them onto that rescue vehicle, a decision that ultimately got me killed.

This time, I just let out a cold laugh, grabbed my backpack, and boarded the armored vehicle without a single backward glance.

The building's backup generators were about to die, and the ground-floor electronic doors were on the verge of failing. Without my protection, trapped on the top floor by tens of thousands of ravenous zombies... I can't wait to see how many days these big shots manage to survive this apocalypse!

My wife never knew what I really did. She only knew I was gone most of the year and money hit our account every month.

The day she cheated, she rummaged through my drawer, found an eagle-shaped brooch, and gifted it to her lover like a flashy accessory. “It’s worthless,” she said. “Perfect with a suit.” I warned her again and again to bring it back. She called me annoying, powered off her phone, and blocked me everywhere.

She didn’t know I’m a cleaner—the kind who handles quiet jobs—and that brooch isn’t jewelry. It’s an organization badge, a mark that turns you into a target the moment it appears in public.

That night, the killers came. The ballroom was sealed. She trembled under a table while her lover shoved her out to take the bullets.

When a cold gun barrel pressed to her temple and someone asked, “Who does the brooch belong to?”

In my past life, my rival and I were both top-tier Wall Street tycoons. I gave up my entire fortune for my fiancée, only to be set up by her and her lowly bodyguard, dying a miserable death in a pool of blood.

Reborn on the night of our engagement bidding, she sat on her high horse, demanding I hand over my hundred-billion-dollar empire.

All of New York was waiting for me to wag my tail like a good dog and sign the papers just to win her over.

But what she didn't know was...

The prestigious family she was so proud of was nothing but a rotting shell. The moment I cut off the secret cash flow keeping them afloat, her so-called "true love" wouldn't survive a single day in this vanity fair.

She thought she was choosing a pure, noble romance. In reality, she just bought a one-way ticket to hell.

I’m a billionaire heir, and I used to say yes to my girlfriend no matter what.

She swiped my card like it was hers, partied until sunrise, and while I lay in a hospital bed, I was still cleaning up her messes.

She never visited me once—yet I couldn’t let her go. I would have given her everything.

Until an accident made me realize the truth: my love wasn’t real. It was hypnosis.

Her father wanted control. He bribed my psychiatrist and rigged my treatment—so the moment I saw her face, I’d lose control, give in, and hand over whatever they wanted.

All that devotion was manufactured.

Now the hypnosis is gone. She thinks I’ll keep being her ATM.

She has no idea that the first thing I did after waking up was make her—and her father—pay.

To protect my son, I spent a grueling year trapped in an underground bunker on an isolated island. Outside the heavy steel door, the scratching and snarling of the undead never ceased.

When our supplies finally ran dry, I risked my life crawling through a narrow ventilation duct to find water—only to emerge into bright sunlight. There was no apocalypse.

My wife—who had supposedly been "torn apart" by the horde—was lounging in a silk slip, sipping champagne with my head of security. And those monsters pounding on my door? Paid actors.

They had staged this entire bio-crisis just to lock me away and drive me insane, all so they could legally seize my billion-dollar empire.

Watching their smug smiles, I slipped back into the shadows. I destroyed the island's entire communication grid and emptied the only vial of a real zombie virus into their central water supply.

Since you love playing doomsday survival so much... let's make it real.

I’m a retired Special Forces soldier. After I got out, I handled problems people didn’t want on paper, and I’ve seen enough dirty work to last a lifetime.

When I finally retired for real, I wanted a normal life.

So I came back to the orphanage where I grew up, planning to adopt a quiet seven-year-old boy I’d kept in touch with for years.

But the moment I arrived, I was told he’d already been “adopted.”

I called the family to make sure he was safe. On the line he said, “I’m fine.”
Then I heard it—fingernails tapping in a pattern: three short, three long, three short.

The distress signal I had taught him.

I stormed into the director’s office and forced the truth out: the adoption papers were fake. He wasn’t taken into a home. He was sold.

They think I’m just a returning orphanage worker.
They have no idea what I’ve done out there—and no idea I’m very good at cleaning up this kind of mess.

I am the chief architect of a quantum computing system valued at hundreds of billions in the real world.
For an AI test subject that I wrote myself, I was willing to conceal my identity as the creator and become her unseen, low-level assistant, even at the cost of taking a fatal blow for her.
Just as she was about to go public and reach the top of the conglomerate pyramid, she unhesitatingly pushed an "Organ Donation Agreement" in front of me, forcing me to remove a kidney to save the newly spawned "old money" NPC new love.
She thought that as long as I died on the operating table, she could kick me aside, this useless stepping stone, without any moral burden, and embrace the perfect capitalist marriage.
But she didn't know—
The entire world she exists in is just a sandbox test server on my desk.

I am the top algorithm genius on Wall Street.
When my wife's first love got into serious trouble, she didn't hesitate to cut off my daughter's medical expenses and force me to go to jail for that scumbag.
But she didn't know that without me, her multi-billion dollar empire was just an empty shell that could explode at any moment.
She could never have known that the little girl she cursed as a "bastard" and who was driven to her death by her own hands was actually her own flesh and blood, whom she thought had died at birth.
When, a few days later, I, who should have been dying in prison, suddenly arrived with short-selling capital and a top-secret paternity test... I wonder if this high and mighty queen will still be able to laugh.

In my past life , I was delivering supplies in the scorching heat of the apocalypse , only to have my ex-wife 's lover smash my head with a stick.
daughter, whom I've spoiled for sixteen years, looked at me with disgust: "Pretending to be a good girl is disgusting. Kill him and take his supplies."
When she opened her eyes again, her daughter had been reborn.
She cried and clung to my legs, begging to be taken in, all to trick me into believing she was building a shelter.
I decided to play along, spending all my savings to build her a top-of-the-line temperature-controlled fortress, and then "meticulously" teaching her the secrets of switching on the electric grid.
As the apocalypse arrives, the ex-wife and her lover launch a night raid on the high wall.
my daughter pressed the switch, trying to let her father in and kick me out the door.
The next second, with a loud "boom," the multi-million-volt high-voltage power grid was instantly activated !
The daughter collapsed in the control room, trembling : "Why is the switch upside down?!"

In my last life, a friend I’d trusted for ten years drove a knife into my heart over a single biscuit. When I opened my eyes again, we had both been reborn—right before the extreme freeze arrived.

He was convinced the apocalypse had come. He borrowed from loan sharks, rented a massive warehouse to hoard supplies, and even crowned himself king during the icebound period, killing without mercy.

But he didn’t know the truth:

This disaster would end completely after only thirty days.

While he taunted me like a madman, I didn’t expose him. I calmly requested thirty days of paid leave from my company.

This time, I’ll sit in a warm, climate-controlled room and watch—when the state machine restarts on day thirty—how he drops to his knees and sobs in despair.