116 Book(s) Related to cultivation chat group chapter 1788

I wasn't supposed to see it. Mom's phone, unlocked on the kitchen counter—a mirror selfie in black lace, her "After Dark Society" group chat blowing up with creampie vids and gangbang confessions. Vivienne—that was her handle. My straight-laced teacher mom, spilling secrets to sluts like Rain, Mei, and the Sterling twins.

Curiosity? Or something darker? I created Celeste. Fake wife, fake pics. Infiltrated her world. Watched her evolve from heartbroken widow to cock-hungry queen, drugging hubby fantasies turning real while Dad rotted in prison for embezzlement.

Months in: her posts got filthier. "Fucked my son's classmate in his bed while he slept." Wyatt, my neighbor buddy. Then Aunt Rina caught me jerking to it all—blackmailed me into her fist in a beach stall, popping my cherry while Mom rode the resort manager live on iPad.

Now? Penthouse bound, wrists tied. Mom—Lauren—smirks down. "Knew it was you, baby. Punishment? Watch Mommy get triple-teamed. Then... everything's yours."

Her phone dings. Three studs at the door. "Loves seeing holes wrecked, boys. Make my pervert son beg."

No escape. The line's crossed. I'm not her son anymore—I'm her audience. And I crave the show.

In the God Domain, Cultivators were far and few between, but each of them wielded power that would make them known as gods.

How did they come to have such power? They comprehended the laws between heaven and earth and became those very laws.

But something occurred, a youth that hadn’t gained the acknowledgment of the heavens to become a cultivator chance upon Qi. Determined to reverse the bad hand faith had dealt him he started researching it and came to a shocking conclusion. The very laws that the heavens prevented him from comprehending were swirling around in this strange energy!

The youth thought to himself that if he could somehow control it, then he could defy the heavens and become a cultivator. Without any hesitation he began researching more and found out that the only way to control this newfound energy was to absorb it within his body.

After many years of preparations, he did exactly that.

However, he promptly died from the finger size strand he absorbed.

Ten years after his death a cultivator found his research journal and decided to further study this fascinating idea.

Skip forward to an unknown period in the future and a baby was born into a powerful royal family as the second prince. Upon his birth this child had the laws of heaven and earth swirling around him. This immediately sent the royal court into a stir as they thought the heavens themselves had blessed the Emperor’s second son.

But as that was happening, the baby that had just been born saw the midwife use a spell to turn Qi into water to clean him.

Upon seeing this, the baby’s eyes widen into saucers as a voice screamed hysterically in his head, “W-WHO THE FUCK STOLE MY IDEA?!”

**

Ps: If your reading this on a pirated site please consider reading the book on the officially websites, Goodnovel/Meganovel, Webnovel, and the first sixty chapters on Royal Road.

Other books: The Growth Of A TiTan

He was once the most feared assassin in the martial world—a blade that killed without hesitation, a shadow that left no survivors. But when Jin Mu-Kang regresses, he awakens a cultivation system unlike any other—one that grows only through good deeds. Save lives. Show mercy. Protect the weak. Every act of kindness makes him stronger… while every drop of blood threatens to erase him from existence.

There’s just one problem—his past is drenched in sin. The system reveals a cruel truth: the karma he earns isn’t a reward, but a debt. Every life he saves is merely repaying the countless lives he once took. Fail to balance it, and he won’t just lose his power—he’ll vanish entirely. Now hunted by his former comrades, distrusted by righteous sects, and constantly tempted by the ruthless strength he once wielded, Mu-Kang is forced to walk a path he was never meant to follow.

𝗜𝗻 𝗮 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗰𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘆𝗮𝗹, 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗮 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗲𝗿 𝗸𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗮 𝘀𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗼𝗿… 𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘀 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲?

Lucas Ashworth was born into a dying body and a crumbling world. Orphaned, sick, and talentless, he barely survived the Day of Awakening when the System descended and turned Earth into a battlefield of monsters and Towers.

Five years later, still stuck at Level 11 with no talent and no future, Lucas faces his end on a blood-stained street as a red Abyss Gate opens beside him. High-level Gifted arrive to fight the monster — but they leave him to die.

In his final moments, something ancient stirs inside the frail young man with snow-white hair.

The System has one last card to play… and this time, it might not let him stay weak.

“See? Mom warned you a long time ago—Rehn is a venomous snake to the bone.”
When a monster tore my right arm apart, and I watched my so-called best brother scoop up all the rations and run without looking back, my mother’s voice suddenly sounded inside my head.
But she’d died five years ago.
Mom told me my “good brother” hadn’t gone far at all.
He was hiding nearby, waiting for the monster to leave so he could come back and play the hero.
He would stash the ammunition, swap out my antibiotics, and in the end use me as the perfect meat shield—kicking me straight into a dead end.
To stay alive, I swallowed my blood-soaked humiliation and played along with him for a full one hundred and twenty minutes of brotherly devotion.
Until he finally tore off the mask and shoved me toward the most horrifying mutant.
I sneered and tossed away my self-defense knife.
Brother, you want to be a god of the wasteland?
Sorry. I’m going to be that god.

Arriving in a strange world filled with cultivators, Chu Che suddenly becomes the owner of an Entertainment system... Specifically, he becomes the owner of an Entertainment Park.
[Chu Che: What? I get to own an Entertainment Park in another word?
Author: Zip It MC. I'm talking.
Chu Che: ("")] ....
The young Chu Che begins his rise to the top.
And along his path, he becomes a legendary master who countless people dare not offend.
[Emperor Hoshi]: Hahahahahahaha! I've just broken through after watching the 7th season of one piece! As expected of the entertainment park!"
[The Great Elder Pei Mo]: "Damn You Park Owner! How can you close the park now? I was just about to rank up in the Elder Scrolls game!"
[Fairy Wei Wei]: "This game is too much! How can I fall into a pit of snakes just like that? No way. I'm not reconciled! I, Fairy Wei Wei, must become victorious in this game of snakes and ladders."
[Goddess Laila]: ... ~Oooooooooo! Why is it so tragic? What happened to senior John Snow? How can he be dead? Owner, you go in there and save him now!"
(--)
...
The mighty Chu Che opened an 'Anime, Gaming, & Fantasy Entertainment Park, which shattered the reality of many and led to the rise of countless experts.
Thus, the young man became the most invincible man to all.
.
Thank you, everyone!
I will post daily, so stay tuned!
......

Excerpt

"What were you trying to do, Qiyara?" My eyes devour the harshness of his hungered swallow and his clenched trembling fist set against the wall. His raging heat that bounds me within, I find unfathomably irresistible.

"I was merely dancing, Cronus." A feverish breathless lie I spout engraving the way the tip of his hot tongue peeks out his mouth to caress his plump lower lip. I wish to obtain a taste of what he can offer.

My ample breasts heave achingly to stroke his wicked flesh, his eyes set aflame to my words for he knows I hold no truth. Then I shall gladly be a sinner, his sinner.

"If you were trying to make me jealous so that I would lose my control and ravish you then you are wrong. I have trained to be a master of control since I was a mere pup. Do not test me." He does not understand, my desperation for him to ram himself raw & deep within me.

"You won't touch me." I move forward swiftly to taste the nape of his neck with a seductiveness. My hand descends his sculpted flesh to embrace his straining girth that is fastened under his jeans. Succumb to me, my male.

He seizes my wrist with brutality. "You are still young, you are not ready." He is too much of an honourable male for me.

"Fuck me, Cronus. Take me against this wall." I am relentless in my lewdness. I lure him into my den.

"Stop it, Qiyara!"

Blazing eyes meet his with a formidable determination. "Then I will keep going against you. I shall be the devil for I will entice you because I ache to feel it."

"Feel what?" He questions nose flaring, his wrath to my stubbornness soaring.

"You lose control."


The forbidden fruit, that was what Cronus was to me. He was one of my brother's closest friends and the most sought-after male who many females from diverse packs fawned over praying he would end up being hers. He was a charmer indeed for with those flirty smiles of his and genuine kindness he enthralled many including me. He was thirteen years older than me but I always had a thing for older males so it started out as a covert crush until I too stood in line with the rest of the females hoping to claim him as mine. However, my position in that line of thirsty females was not last as I had expected but first for Cronus ended up being my mate just as I yearned for, the moon's gift.

Forbidden fruit? Not anymore, Cronus is mine and I am going to gobble this male up.

"Mom, I only want to go to Paris with you, not Dad."

When my ten-year-old daughter said this with tears in her eyes, I thought she was expressing her love for me.

I was wrong.

In our Paris hotel, I accidentally overheard the phone call that changed everything—

"Don't worry, Lily will find a way to extend the trip. I promised to buy her that concert-grade piano."

"Having sex in your marital bed is so thrilling, much better than at my apartment."

"That little girl Lily cooperates perfectly, always managing to lead Sarah away."

In that moment, my world completely shattered.

I thought I was only being betrayed by my husband, but discovered that even the daughter I carried for ten months was their carefully orchestrated pawn.

The child I raised with my own hands was actually helping her father's mistress occupy my home and sleep in my bed.

When a mother discovers she's been deceived by those she loves most, her revenge will make everyone pay a devastating price.

Two years later, when I saw that once-successful man wearing a shabby suit, accompanied by his malnourished daughter at my charity auction, I only said coldly:

"She can come with me, but you—never deserve it."

“You’re mine now,” Viktor said, advancing closer.

Lyra shrank back. “I—I’m not…”

“You are, Lyra. Whether you like it or not.”


Taken captive in a deadly game of revenge, Lyra is at Viktor’s mercy. He is cold, heartless and a ruthless mafia don.

The rule for her freedom is simple: she will never see her sister again.

But as days trapped in his world turn into weeks, she begins to see what is beneath his cold exterior.

Will she fall for him? Or escape at the slightest chance she gets?

I’m a dedicated surgeon who once gave up everything for love. I married my childhood sweetheart, only to discover he’d been cheating on our anniversary with my stepsister. I was gaslighted, betrayed, and even hurt by him, while my family took his side and blamed me for everything. I’d had enough. I signed the divorce papers, applied for a three-year overseas program, and decided to walk away from this toxic life. Before I start over, I exposed their ugly truth at their engagement party — no more silence, no more pain. This is my journey of breaking free from a broken marriage, regaining my dignity, and rebuilding my life from zero.

Mona would do anything to get money for her mother's surgery, even if it means accepting a rich, spoilt girl's bet. All she has to do is get caught in some incriminating photos with billionaire tycoon Ian Harrison.

Easy peasy.

Until it's not.

Caught in the billionaire's twisted web, in a world of wealth, glamour and deceit, Mona will soon learn that everything isn't as it seems, and there's more to Ian that meets the eye.

But first, she must protect her heart from being crushed under his cruel hands.

Chiara Benedetti thought her wedding day would be the start of her freedom, instead, it becomes her descent into hell. Before she can say "I do," the chapel doors are torn off their hinges by Nico Ferraro, the brutal Don of the Ferraro family and her father's greatest enemy. He doesn't come for blood; he comes for his property.

He reveals a chilling truth: three years ago, her father sold her to him in a blood debt, and her entire life has been nothing but a fraud to hide the transaction.

Nico doesn't want a wife. He wants a possession to break. He expects Chiara to cower, to beg, and to kneel but Chiara is made of the same iron as the men in her world. She fights, she provokes, and she talks back, turning her captivity into a psychological battlefield. Her defiance doesn't disgust Nico, it intoxicates him. What begins as a cold exchange of power spirals into a dark, erotic obsession that neither can control.

As Nico introduces Chiara to the darker edges of his desire, scenes of rough possession and degradation, she is terrified to realize she doesn't just endure him; she craves him. When a rescue attempt by her former fiancé offers her a way out, Chiara makes a choice that shocks everyone: she stays. Not for love, but for the dark intensity only Nico provides. Caught between a secret rebellion within Nico’s own family and a rival family demanding her head, Nico must decide if he will sacrifice his empire to keep the woman he swore was just a debt. In a world where love is a weakness, their mutual destruction might be the only thing that makes them feel alive.

Every seven years, under the luminous full moon in Taurus, the mermaids of Atlantic City shed their tails and walk among humans for a fleeting month. During this mystical time, Mia, a reserved young woman living in a vibrant city filled with immigrants, encounters Charlie—a charming, playful cat who quickly becomes her best friend. Unbeknownst to Mia, her bond with Charlie is deeper than mere companionship: he is her soulmate, a remnant of her mermaid past reborn as a feline.

As the full moon wanes, Mia awakens in her new human life—a beautiful British woman with no memory of her underwater origins. She must navigate her new world, balancing her job, her ballet studies, and her growing connection to Charlie. However, her happiness is threatened when she learns that she must return to the underwater realm when the mermaid cycle begins again.

Meanwhile, Charlie remains her loyal guardian—always safe, healthy, and content. His unwavering love makes Mia feel secure and emboldens her to confront her emerging powers. As her feelings for Charlie deepen, Mia begins to sense she is destined for greater things. She prepares herself to face the challenges ahead, including confronting dark forces that threaten both the human and underwater worlds.

An evil entity—an evil specter—seeks to fight against God's love embedded in human hearts specially into her classmates when they start to being on possesion of the evil. This malevolent force aims to corrupt and destroy the purity of love and faith. Armed with her mermaid superpowers and the love of Charlie, Mia must stand against this darkness. Their bond becomes her strongest support in the battle to protect both worlds.

I nearly died in the freezing ocean at my adopted sister Jane's birthday party.

When the yacht started tilting and alarms shrieked through the corridors, Dad grabbed Jane and bolted for the deck without looking back. Mom clutched Jane's ragdoll cat in her arms, following close behind under the bodyguards' protection.

They saved the cat.

But left their biological daughter to drown.

Three days later, I staggered home covered in wounds. The living room was decorated with scented candles and a three-tier birthday cake. Light piano music mingled with laughter—they were throwing Jane a makeup birthday party, celebrating how "the whole family" survived the disaster.

This book is the prequel to A Werelion for Cat.

(Warning this book contains content that may be very sensitive to some readers)

Emma grew up in a world where all she knew was pain and abuse.

She had a mother who loved her but didn't have the confidence or self-esteem to stand up for herself or her daughter.

Emma's stepfather abused his wife and stepdaughter relentlessly, leading to the death of his wife.

Emma's stepbrother Leo didn't receive the same treatment as she and her mother. However, he grew up in a household with a man that treated females as worthless objects.

How will Emma survive the abuse that killed her mother and protect her daughter born from an unplanned pregnancy?

This story shows Emma's life from a young child to early adulthood and the struggles she endured along the way.

I’d worked at my husband’s company for three years, only to be fired by him right when a promotion was within my reach.
It was all because I’d been swamped with overtime work one day and neglected the cat he’d given me.
When I came home that night and found the cat food hadn’t been refilled like usual, my husband, who had always treated me with tenderness, flew into a rage for the first time.
“If you can’t even take proper care of a cat, then don’t come to work at all. Stay home and raise it full-time.”
I parted my lips to explain myself, tears clouding my eyes, but he wouldn’t listen to a single word I said. The very next day, he instructed the HR department to dismiss me from the company.

On the first day of the zombie outbreak, my two roommates and I made a crazy decision: before the banking system crashed, we'd take out dozens of online loans and high-limit credit cards!
"Since it's the end of the world, who the hell cares about credit scores? Borrow money! Buy out the supermarket! We don't have to pay it back anyway!"
We smashed through walls, welded the security door shut, and used millions of dollars worth of supplies to build a makeshift shelter . We thought we could survive this catastrophe.
Until that day, in a moment of madness, I rescued a pregnant stranger right under the zombies' noses.
I forgot that in the apocalypse, the smell of amniotic fluid and blood is the ultimate death warrant that attracts monsters from the entire city…

My wife is the city's renowned "Community Angel." She donates every single cent of her high salary to the poor, all to buy herself a saintly reputation.
Meanwhile, as her husband, I spend my days rolling beneath cars in a factory, covered in grease, juggling four credit cards just to keep our large family afloat.
My parents-in-law survive on the expensive, imported life-saving meds I pay for, yet they constantly mock me for being a powerless nobody;
My own children attend private schools on my dime, only to look at me with disgust and call me an embarrassment;
And my wife? Dressed in her high-end couture, she looks down at me and condescendingly urges, "For the sake of the poor children, why don't you get another part-time job and just endure it a little longer?"
Looking at this den of parasites sucking the life out of me, a sudden, overwhelming wave of disgust washed over me.
I didn't argue. I silently put away my overdue bills, packed my bags, and completely vanished from this twisted household.
Later, at the highly anticipated Annual Charity Gala, in front of the entire city, I presented her with an ultimate "gift"—

As the zombie with half its face rotten lunged at my throat, an utterly absurd thought popped into my head. Instinctively, I raised the supermarket barcode scanner in my hand and aimed it at its face.

"Beep—Target: Level 1 Mutant Infected Person. Estimated Recovery Value: Equivalent to half a bottle of mineral water."

Who would have thought that in this cannibalistic apocalypse, these bloodthirsty monsters who feel no pain and only know how to kill could actually be forcibly converted into cash by the system?!

From that day on, I completely trampled the laws of this broken world under my feet.

While others were killing each other in the ruins for half a piece of moldy bread, I was comfortably sitting in my "Red Lion" supermarket, doing big business with a zombie whose head I had smashed in half.

Two bags of flour, I traded for a box of antibiotics; three boxes of sausages, and it led a zombie squad to the police station to empty my armory. As long as I can afford it, these tireless monsters are my most loyal laborers.

A vicious thug drove a bulldozer and smashed through my wall, threatening to chop up the men and take the women away. I didn't even draw my gun; I just yelled at the door, "Kill these scumbags, and all twenty kilograms of bacon are yours!" The next second, an army of zombies burst through the window and tore the thugs to pieces in an instant.

The arrogant leader of the survivor base, driving five hundred refugees to act as human shields, attempted to use moral blackmail to force me to hand over supplies? I sneered and sounded the air raid siren, awakening the horde of zombies throughout the city. I sat in front of the monitor, sipping hot tea, watching her, who was once so invincible, be completely swallowed by the monsters, as if watching a play.

Trying to take over my territory? First, ask my paid zombie bodyguards outside if they'll allow it!

Through a crazy "equivalent exchange" strategy, I transformed a run-down supermarket into an impregnable steel fortress that even regular troops couldn't break into.

Until that day, the military defenses completely collapsed. Seven four-meter-tall, city-destroying "tyrants" led a super horde of 150,000 zombies to the city's gates! With only sixty seconds left on the countdown to the tactical nuclear missile, the arrogant military commander, his eyes red with tears, begged me to intervene and save the city.

I was trapped underground by seven tyrants, chewing on the last piece of chocolate my zombie underling had left me before he died, and pressed the system's "Ultimate Equivalence".

The system asked me if I was willing to trade my life for absolute control over 150,000 mutants in the entire city.

I smiled and said, "Deal."

When the white light of the nuclear explosion dissipated, and the entire city was reduced to ruins, everyone assumed I was gone without a trace. But I, leaning against the intact rooftop of the fortress, looked down at the tyrant who humbly submitted to me, my eyes gleaming with a dark golden light.

In this lawless hell, my rules are the only ironclad law!

Just because my face was severely burned in the fire, a woman pointed her finger at me, screaming and falsely accusing me of molesting her son to the whole society.
She incited online violence, ruining my livelihood; she distorted the truth, bringing in corrupt police officers who tortured me to the point of near death.
She thought she could extort some unexpected money.
But she had no idea that my severe burns were because I saved the governor in the fire!

At the family dinner, a Wall Street rising star flaunted his power in front of me, boasting that he was the chief agent of the "Godfather of the Underworld."
My ex-wife's family fawned over me like dogs, pointing their fingers at me and taunting, "You spineless, gigolo trash, you're not even worthy to carry Mr. Victor's shoes!"
Victor, even more smug, turned on speakerphone, trying to use my privileges to curry favor with my wife.
I stood silently in the corner, coldly pressing a blood-red command: [Permanently Delete Account].
The next second, the system's cold pronouncement came through his phone: "Warning, you have overstepped your authority and have been banned across the entire network!"
The room fell silent instantly.
They had no idea that I was the true Godfather, the one who controlled a multi-billion dollar empire and ruled the Western underworld!

Seven years ago, my wife and son committed perjury in court, conspiring to send me to a high-security prison, all so they could elope with that fraudster.
Seven years later, I was released.
My ex-wife, with her son, arrogantly tossed a business card onto my faded work clothes:
"Go kowtow to my new husband and apologize, and I'll give you a waiter's job."
Little did she know that just hours later, at a top-tier financial summit across America, her seemingly untouchable new husband was kneeling at my feet like a dog.
And her proud multi-billion dollar empire was nothing more than garbage I could crush with a flick of my finger.

In their eyes, my wife Emma—an Ivy League tenured professor in biological sciences—is ruthless, rational, and obsessively clean.
For seven years, even when she washed her hands, she would only ever touch the right-side sink—hers.
Until that night at 3 a.m., when I pulled a strand of sandy-golden short curl—hair that belonged to neither of us—out of my men’s shower loofah.
And around the neck of a pre-med student named Lucas, I saw the antique silver cross my dying father left in my hands.
When I confronted her, my always-icy wife protected the little homewrecker, slapped me across the face, and called me a jealous, controlling chauvinist.
She thought I’d swallow it like a coward.
But she forgot: as a top cardiothoracic chief, the thing I do best is cutting out tumors.

A zombie outbreak occurred, and my brother and I were both reborn ten minutes before the disaster struck.
This time, he seized the initiative, stealing the two high-level god-tier abilities, [Flame] and [Hardening], and casually pushed me out of the security door, locking me in the zombie-infested corridor.
Through the security door, he arrogantly declared, "In my past life, you always stood in front of me; in this life, I'll take the mark of survival."
In his eyes, the [Tracking] and [Preset] abilities the system assigned me were nothing but useless pieces of paper.
He thought I would die a horde of zombies.
But he didn't know that in the hands of a top hunter, seemingly useless skills could weave a hellish web that made life unbearable and death unthinkable.

Five years ago, on our wedding day, my fiancée Vivian was in the bridal suite fucking my best man.
Five years later, I returned to New York with my wife—the most powerful Mafia matriarch in Naples. At Atelier Milano, Brandon, the same "best man" who betrayed me, fawned over my custom-tailored suit, groveling to the staff about how desperately he wanted to meet the legendary Mr. Salvatore.
He had no idea...
The man he'd once written off as a pathetic loser was the very person he was now begging to impress.

Before the apocalypse hit, my ex-girlfriend called me, laughing like a maniac: "Jack, you pathetic loser—still playing that stupid farming game? Gonna whack zombies with a hoe? Open the door right now, get on your knees, and beg us, and maybe we'll throw you some table scraps."
I listened to the faint scrape of a tactical knife being drawn on the other end of the line, and silently glanced at my computer screen—at the maxed-out Greenfield Manor game, with its gold cap glowing at [999,999,999] .
"You misheard." I dropped my voice, lacing it with just the right amount of embarrassment. "I was checking the weather forecast."
The other end erupted in unrestrained laughter: "Then forecast this—how you're gonna die today!"
I hung up without changing my expression, flipped open the system, and spent a million on the [Absolute Defense Shield] —then brought out a steaming plate of roasted meat.
Forecast?
I forecast that tonight, you'll be gnawed down to bare bones by zombies.

To help his life-saving benefactor, he personally pressed a pregnant me on the operating table to draw bone marrow.
I cried and begged him, "James, I'm pregnant. It's your child. Don't do this to me..."
But he had a look of disgust in his eyes. "Elizabeth, you'd lie about something like that just to get out of helping Mandy?"
Until there was a river of blood in the operating room and that unformed child turned into a pool of bloody water, he finally panicked.
Later, when he knew that the person who saved him in the fire ten years ago was actually me, he held my ashes and knelt outside the operating room for a full three days.

On my birthday, I was dragged up to the attic and assaulted by several men.
I called my parents, brother, and boyfriend for help, but they all thought I was seeking attention and ruining my sister Sophie's celebration.
"Mia, stop it. We're busy preparing for Sophie's party. If you want attention, find another way."
This was the hundredth time they'd let me down.
But there won't be a hundred and first.
Because I'm already dead.

On our sixth anniversary, instead of a gift, my husband Liam video-called me while holding his first love, Sophia.
On screen, that woman proudly waved a positive pregnancy test while Liam sneered at me: "Sophia got pregnant on the first try. Proves your body's the problem, not mine!"
Clutching my own newly confirmed pregnancy report, my heart turned to ice. I decided to file for divorce.
But at the celebratory party Liam threw for Sophia, I was pushed to the ground—blood staining my dress.
When I begged for help, Liam coldly looked away: "Stop faking. It's just period cramps. Don't ruin the party."

My stepsister and I tumbled down the stairs together. As someone with a blood clotting disorder, my spleen ruptured—I was bleeding internally, desperate for surgery to stop it.
But my mother—the renowned chief of surgery—pulled every specialist from the ER. To consult on my stepsister's condition.
All she had was a sprained ankle. Not even a scratch. Yet mom insisted on running every test in the book. And me? Left alone on that cold floor, bleeding out, half my body already soaked in blood.
I clutched at her pants, begging her to save me. But she kicked my hand away and looked at me with pure disgust.
"Lily, are you really so desperate for a man's attention that you'd pull a cheap stunt like this? Your sister's foot is swollen—and you have the nerve to fake your death here?"
In the end, I died alone in a corner of that ignored ER.
But when they wheeled my cold body out of the morgue—and they finally learned about my clotting disorder—
That mother who claimed to hate me completely lost her mind.

My brother was jealous after I won a $50 million lottery jackpot, so he tricked me into believing an extreme ice-age apocalypse was coming.
Because I trusted him, I spent every last dollar my parents and I had—fortifying the house and stockpiling supplies.
Two weeks later, he told me that there was no coming apocalypse. It had all been a lie.
Just when I was drowning in despair, hail started falling in the middle of summer.
The deep freeze apocalypse had really begun.

After accidentally traveling to the post-apocalyptic wasteland, I treated the human leader as a brother, continuously supplying him with modern resources.

Who knew he would conspire with the beastman chieftain to kill me, just to prevent me from rescuing others.

But what he didn't know was that I could travel back to the modern world.

While those two leaders of the wasteland thought themselves invincible...

I healed my wounds, and returned to the wasteland with military hardware and food, storming back to their base!

You want my life?

Then pay for it with your own!

At the dinner party, Alexander had his arm around my waist, chatting and laughing with clients in German.
I was about to tell him the happy news that I was pregnant.
He was tender and affectionate in front of me, kissing my cheek from time to time.
But they didn't know my German was fluent enough to understand every dirty detail.
Like right now, I heard him bragging to the client about how wild things got last night with his stepsister Lillian.

I'm a blind girl, and I've always been close with the old lady living next door.
One day, I caught the smell of blood coming from her apartment.
Worried something had happened to her, I pushed her door open—and instantly realized my mistake.
I had walked right into a murder scene.
The killer was still there.
I had to take a chance.
Betting that my pale, sightless eyes could fool those blood-crazed ones.
I stepped into the blood-soaked room, smiled toward where the body lay, and called out,
"Ma'am, the store has oranges on sale—I brought some over for you..."

When the apocalyptic red rain fell, my brother and I both awakened spatial abilities.

He awakened a space as vast as a mansion and was hailed by the entire family as their savior.

While I only awakened a "suitcase" and was ruthlessly drained of all my assets by my parents to support my brother, then kicked out of the house.

They mocked me cruelly: "We don't keep deadweights. Go wait for death in the 70-degree furnace outside!"

What they didn't know was that my brother's space had no preservation function—his stockpile of premium ingredients would soon rot into a pile of maggot-infested meat.

But my suitcase had upgrade attributes!

While they fought each other over a sip of putrid green water in the 200-degree hellscape,

I sat in the "Eden" I had created, watching herds of cattle and sheep, drinking ice-cold fresh milk.

My fiancé accused me of not caring about family.
To appease him, I planned a family vacation.
But the night before we left, he informed me that he'd given my first-class seat to his childhood sweetheart.
And me? He stuck me in coach on a flight flagged for possible terror threats.
Everyone in his family thought I should just go along with it.
That was the moment I woke up.
I tore up the itinerary and booked myself a trip to Hawaii instead.
Then I turned off my phone and let them sweat over the hotel bill.
It wasn't until their reservation got canceled that they finally started to panic.

My fiancée accused me of not caring about family.
To make it up to her, I planned a luxury vacation for all of us.
But the night before we left, she told me she'd given my first-class seat to her childhood best friend.
Instead, she booked me a seat in economy—on a flight with a recent terror threat advisory.
The whole family thought I should just go along with it.
That's when I finally woke up.
I tore up the itinerary and rerouted to Hawaii instead.
I turned off my phone, leaving them to deal with the $20,000 bill.
It wasn't until their hotel reservations got canceled that they started to panic.

"Strip her naked and throw her in a dog cage."
When Vincent Sterling gave the order, Serena clutched her stomach in despair: "I'm carrying your baby!"
Vincent just lit a cigarette, watching coldly as the bodyguard’s boot slammed into her belly. "Get rid of it. I don't want anything filthy."
That night, to avenge his childhood sweetheart, Vincent personally killed his own flesh and blood, trampling his wife—whom he had loved for ten years—into the mud.
Later, the truth came to light.
The so-called "infidelity videos" are AI-generated, and the manipulative woman's pain is self-perpetuated.
Seeing the signed divorce agreement and the blood-stained ring, the arrogant Vincent went completely mad.
He knelt in the pouring rain for three days and nights, begging her to come back.
This time, Serena sat in her wheelchair, gazing down at him with an icy, detached gaze.
"Vincent, I don't hate you, but I hate you for being filthy."

On my first day as an intern at the zoo, the old director assigned us animals to care for.
In my previous life, my classmate Jack chose the easy-to-care-for African elephant, while I was forced to take on the brutal Siberian tiger.
A month later, the apocalypse struck, and the Siberian tiger successfully evolved, leading me to escape the encirclement.
Jack's elephant, however, couldn't outrun the mutated species and was torn to pieces. Driven
by jealousy, the surviving Jack incited a mob to brutally beat me and the giant tiger to death, dismembering and cannibalizing us.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the animals were assigned.
Jack had already taken the Siberian tiger, pushing the elephant to me, and I knew he had also been reborn.
But what he didn't know was that the Siberian tiger he had devoured was also reborn with me.

In my past life, when the apocalypse broke out, I braved the pressure and opened the fortress gates to take in my mother-in-law and brother-in-law, who had nowhere else to go.
They shoved my wife and me straight into a horde of zombies.
My wife and I were reborn seven days before the apocalypse. I turned my head and saw the same fear and coldness surging in her eyes as mine:
"This time, don't open the door."
"Never." I smiled coldly.
Not only would I keep the door shut—I would watch with my own eyes as those bloodsucking ingrates, who had drained me dry in my past life, were slowly devoured by hunger and despair right outside the gate.

"Get out of here with your dying bastard!"
My son suddenly fell critically ill, and the only matching organ was locked in my wife's family's cold storage. I stormed into the company with my critically ill child, only to be met with a severe suspension notice.
Everyone thought I was some lowly social outcast, someone they could crush at any moment.
Until I pulled out that dusty badge, my father-in-law, who controlled a New York business empire, was so terrified that he cleared the room on the spot, his legs going weak.
"Arrange surgery for my son immediately." I looked at him coldly. "If he misses the optimal transplant window, I guarantee your entire family, and this city, will be executed for him."

To save my cousin from a car accident, my mother, a medical luminary, used me as a "human guinea pig" for twelve years.
When I was twelve, she made me inject myself with three injections of unproven new drugs every week;
when I was fourteen, she directly shoved toxic compounds into my mouth.
When my organs were irreversibly failing and I was vomiting blood in the ICU, she coldly tossed me a payment order:
"Stop pretending to be dead. Immediately kowtow and apologize to your brother, or no hospital will admit you."
As she wished, I was forced to leave the hospital and died at her glamorous new drug launch.
Later, that high-and-mighty mother, obsessed with fame and fortune, knelt for an entire night in a snow-covered fir forest, holding my crudely made urn.
Sadly, I will never forgive her.

In this prestigious North American university, I was just a lowly physical education teacher, working long hours and being bossed around.
No one knew that two years ago, I was a special forces legend, codenamed "Tyrant," who climbed to the top of the dark web, stepping over the corpses of countless enemies in the abyss of hell.
I thought I had washed the blood off my hands.
Until that day, the only ordinary female student I cared about was lured into a black market industrial park on the Balkan border, facing a butcher's chainsaw.
For five million dollars to save my life, I was willing to swallow all my pride and bow to the school's richest family.
But what I got in return was public humiliation and a beating from the powerful.
They laughed at me, calling me a weakling, saying my life was less than that of a lowly dog.
Watching the video showing only five hours left of life and death, I snapped the spine of the richest man's bodyguard with my bare hands, tearing apart the docile mask I had worn for two years.
Crossing half the globe to storm into a heavily guarded, lawless land?
It had been a long time since I'd stretched my muscles.
It seems the world has forgotten why this dark jungle, filled with warlords and evil, still cannot bear to hear my name!

In this damned wasteland, nobody wants to travel with a burden.
But there were four filthy little ones who stubbornly insisted on following me, refusing to fight back or retaliate.
I looked at them, then at the approaching horde of zombies in the distance, and tossed a loaded pistol in front of them.
"Want to follow me? Fine."
I coldly placed a knife to the neck of the outermost zombie. "Here, if you want me, the lone wolf, to take you along, you'll have to prove you're not trash!"
"Take it and shoot it in the head! That's the only ticket to joining my team!"
The sixteen-year-old girl, tears streaming down her face, gritted her teeth and pulled the trigger.
I knew I could never shake them off again.

To give my twelve-year-old daughter a peaceful and ordinary childhood, I sealed away the "Eagle" badge that represented the highest military authority in the Federation, willingly becoming a repairman with an oily phone in a remote town.
I suppressed my murderous intent, swallowed my humiliation, and even remained silent about the injustice of the referee.
But my concessions to the powerful and wealthy resulted in the richest man leading a group of professional thugs to smash my home to ruins.
to fight in front of my daughter , until his reckless son smashed my "Eagle Badge," hidden deep inside.
They had no idea that the instant the badge broke—
the SSS-level emergency beacon hidden at its core—had been triggered !

My wife was a fearsome Mafia queen in Chicago.
On the anniversary of our daughter's death, she didn't show up.
When I arrived, the male college student she was keeping was trampling on my daughter's black-and-white portrait.
Instead of scolding him, my wife shielded him in her arms: "Marco was just a child, why are you arguing with him?"
She thought I would be like a dog, forever subservient to her for wealth and power, enduring her betrayal.
Until I discovered the true cause of my daughter's tragic death—
I simply pulled out a gun and pressed the muzzle against her forehead.

My wife, the most ruthless godmother in New York's underworld, wants a divorce.
The reason? Her male subordinate's old wound has flared up, and he only has three months to live. She wants to accompany him on his final journey as his wife.
To make room for her new lover, she not only doesn't go home, but even allows him to frame me for a fabricated death sentence.
In the dimly lit underground interrogation room, the backlash from deviating from the proper procedures caused my organs to rapidly fail, and I developed a persistent high fever.
Through the iron bars, she looked at my disfigured body, not recognizing me, but coldly raising her gun and giving the order to execute me herself.
She proudly believed that by clearing the way, she could go back and have a grand wedding with the man who was feigning illness.
Until the last shot, when my breathing stopped completely, she saw the old scar on the back of my left hand—the scar from the severed finger I had left for her.
That once arrogant godmother instantly broke down in tears beside my corpse.

On the execution platform, my noble and beautiful wife used her dagger to carve open my chest.
My nominal adopted son pressed a red-hot iron into my skin, branding me with the "F"-class mark of the lowest outcast, draining my transcendent bloodline dry.
"The Storm Kingdom has no use for a cripple with zero beast-spirit affinity. You belong rotting in the abyss!"
They cut the chains and kicked me into the Black Abyss—a place from which no one returns—then turned to carve up my throne.
They thought I was as good as dead.
They had no idea that the deepest darkness of that abyss harbored the most terrifying ancient demon in existence.
Two weeks later, as they raised their glasses to toast the new king's coronation, I kicked down the castle gates, wielding the ember-fire of annihilation and a tide of ten thousand beasts.
Looking down at the woman who once stood so high above me, now groveling in the mud and begging for mercy, I tossed the bloodstained broken blade onto the hem of her dress:
"Remember this forever—it was you who took a nobody you crushed beneath your feet and turned him into a king you'll kneel before and never win back. Now, hand over your lives."

My biological parents and younger brother conspired with an adopted outsider to fabricate an elaborate lie about a "super tsunami about to strike." They staged an act together, tricked me onto a cruise ship, and locked me deep in the hold. The moment the hatch closed, I heard their voices through a hidden camera, toasting with glasses:
"Finally got that jinx locked away. From now on, the family fortune is all ours!"
But they didn't know that at that very second, a piercing system alert blared in my mind:
[Super Tsunami Generating. Countdown: 5 days.]
The apocalypse was real after all.
I seized the moment to bind with the Deep-Sea Fortress System, drained the family's entire assets, and went on a manic hoarding spree.
Five days later, hundred-meter-tall waves ripped the coastline apart.
Watching on the monitor as my parents and brother knelt outside the alloy door, tearing at each other, banging their heads bloody as they begged me to open up,
I cut into a perfectly seared, juicy steak and asked softly into the mic:
"Didn't you say the tsunami was a lie? So why are you crying now?"

I lost my memory.
When I woke up, my biological parents and aloof wife were fussing over the fake young master's bedside.
I, the real young master who had just awakened from a coma, only received my wife's cold command: "Sebastian needs a blood transfusion. Go donate."
Looking at the scars on my wrists from her suicide attempt, my amnesiac mind only felt absurdity.
I calmly donated blood, then turned and signed the divorce papers, leaving with nothing, and unilaterally published a notice severing all ties with my family.
Later, the fake young master's conspiracy was exposed. My arrogant female CEO wife destroyed her entire family, flew halfway around the world overnight, and knelt at the airport, tears streaming down her face, begging me to come home.
I, however, took the hand of a haired female professor and looked at her coldly: " Sorry, I already have a partner ."