119 Book(s) Related to gokujo gokurakuin joshikou ryou monogatari

[Warning: Mature 18+]
Harriet Wonder's life was far from wonderful. It was a never-ending nightmare controlled by her wicked family. Her father, desperate to save their failing business, sold her off to a wealthy old man. From a young age, her stepmother subjected her to constant abuse. And to make matters worse, her obsessive stepbrother held her captive, like a marionette with no control over her own life. Fed up with being a mere pawn, Harriet decided to take matters into her own hands and seek revenge. She took a bold step and went to a bar, where she paid a man to take her virginity. Little did she know, the man she chose was none other than Lucas, an Alpha werewolf! In his hands, she discovered a world of passion and love, like a wonderland. But could salvation truly be found in the clutches of a beast? Or was it just another cruel twist of fate?

I was frozen for 100 years due to illness.
One hundred years later, the whole world was ravaged by strange phenomena, and humanity was huddled together in a few small places to survive.
I was awakened from my slumber by the investigation team. I thought I would be killed by the monster as soon as I woke up, but I found that the monster here was my good brother from college.
Besides him, the eerie owner of the barbecue restaurant, the matchmaking ghost who likes to harm people through blind dates, the S-class monstrous ghost in the cemetery... they are all my old friends...
The world a hundred years from now feels strangely familiar...

Ten years of knowing each other, today was our engagement.

I was the Holy Maiden of the Silverglow Clan; Kane was the young lord of the Lunar Eclipse Clan.

The union of the two clans to resist the blood-clan beast tide together had been my wish since childhood.

But on the wedding day, in the sacred hall, my palm faced his, only the final blood pact remaining, when a woman holding a blood-stained swaddling bundle rushed into the hall and said it was his child.

Kane rushed down. He cut his fingertip and tested the blood; the royal mark lit up between the wolf cub’s brows.

He smiled—a gentle smile he had never once given me in three years.

The elder said, first take her as a concubine; the queen’s position would still be mine.

And I walked down from the altar and slapped him across the face.

“Break off the engagement.”

Remove the crown, sever the contract, withdraw three thousand wolf riders, take back the moon-steel weapons and the beacon array.

Kane said I was throwing a tantrum.

He did not know that from the moment I took off the crown, I had already calculated how to make him pay!

I am Murphy, a noble black cat.
My human servant used to be the Chief Paladin of the Holy Church, and every meal he served me was top-tier salmon.
Now, his spine is shattered. He’s paralyzed in bed, charged with the crime of "colluding with the demons."
The Saintess, Elena, strutted in on her high heels to force him into signing a confession, cursing him as a "dead cripple who can't even manage his own piss and shit." His former deputy wants to step over his body to seize power, and has even ordered him to be burned alive.
Well, just so I can secure my future meal tickets, yours truly will just have to step in and clear his name, meow~

For his mother's life, he willingly became a live-in son-in-law for three years, enduring countless humiliations from his wife and male lover. Only when they themselves unplugged the life support pod did he retrieve the dusty cell phone from the pool of blood. The "Zero" access to the Silicon Valley dark web had been unlocked; this time, he would make the entire Crawford empire pay with its life.

In our third year of surviving the wasteland, my companions and I finally realized it was all a reality show.

The elites and billionaires on the outside had built a massive dome, tossing us into this irradiated hellhole to be tortured. They broadcasted it globally, watching us drink toxic wastewater and eat mutated meat, treating us like monkeys in a zoo.

The mole in our team knelt in the mud, sobbing, begging me to understand that it was all a script—that as long as I played along, I could live.

Without a second thought, I swung my blade. Right in front of ten million VIP viewers, I chopped off his leg.

"Crappy script," I sneered, kicking aside the severed limbs and blood on the floor. Gripping my machete, I walked toward the real world beyond the heavy gates.

To those who used our lives for entertainment: I'm coming for yours.

After my parents passed away, I regarded the Carter family as my last blood relatives and Jessica as the light for the rest of my life. Until that day, Dafu, who was sitting next to me on the sofa, suddenly looked up and his voice hit me directly in the head.
It said that Jessica holding Brad's arm was a ploy to force me to sell my house. It said that my parents' insurance money had long been "borrowed" away by Carter time and time again. It said that in thirty days, extreme cold would arrive, with temperatures dropping to minus eighty degrees Celsius, turning the world into hell.
Memories of my past life were also poured in by Dafu—they broke my legs and threw me outside, where I froze into an ice sculpture in a blizzard.
Dafu rushed to save me, but Brad pinned him to the snow, skinned him, made a fire, and ate him.
I silently pulled out the Glock 19 my father had left me and chambered a round.
Click.
In this life, I won't listen to people anymore; I'll listen to dogs.

My brother and my fiancée forged evidence of my crimes. They claimed I was guilty of corruption, bribery, and betraying the family—that I was a traitor to the nation. If not for their "mercy," they said, I would have already been sentenced to death.

But that wasn't enough. Three years later, when Father lay dying, my brother and fiancée threw me into the Gulf of Mexico, all to eliminate any chance I might have of competing for the family inheritance.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to three years ago—to the moment they framed me for treason...

At the quarterly all-hands, during the raffle, my boyfriend won the company's two-person trip to Santorini.
The whole room was hooting, asking who he'd take.
I stood in the crowd, heart hammering.
The night before, in bed, I'd told him I was so tired, that I wanted to see the sea. He said once this busy stretch was over, he'd take me.
The old employee handbook said anyone dating someone from their own department had to report it to HR, and one of them had to transfer out. Neither of us wanted to leave, so we never went public.
So I said nothing. I just looked at him, waiting for him to speak.
He glanced in my direction.
Then he looked at someone else.
"Sophie. She really came through on that last project — I promised her a trip and never made good on it."
The hooting exploded.
Sophie got pushed into the middle by colleagues, blushing and laughing.
I stood where I was, mind a total blank.
All the way until after it broke up, when he chased me into the fire stairwell to explain.
"Listen to me. Her father is our biggest client. I'm right in the middle of my promotion review. I can't afford to offend her."
I turned and looked at him.
"Then go be with her. You two are a better fit."

Sienna Hart said her heart was failing because she expected me to be the punch line. I called 911. By the time the paramedics arrived, no one was laughing—and my boyfriend was looking at me as if I had ruined something precious.

I was rushing to perform an emergency surgery when a woman and her mother charged at me, slapping me to the ground. They accused me of being a corrupt, crooked doctor who prescribed fake drugs for kickbacks.
I begged for mercy, pleading that I needed to go perform surgery on my mother, but they beat me black and blue.
"A quack like you deserves to perform surgery?"
When my husband finally arrived, I thought he would stand up for me. To my absolute horror, he was already having an affair with that woman. He called me an embarrassment and sneered, "If your mother dies, it’s exactly what she deserves!"
I froze.
But, darling... the person dying on the operating table right now is your mother.

The day I achieved telepathic breakthrough, I heard my fiancée's inner voice telling me to "get lost."
In the restaurant, she abandoned me as I coughed up blood to embrace another man.
I signed the death contract for the meat grinder frontline, determined to die, but when bone spikes pierced through my chest, my telepathy revealed the truth—she pushed me away not because she didn't love me, but because she had been bitten by a zombie three years ago.

Manhattan City Hall, ten minutes before the marriage certificate is issued.
I looked at the prenuptial agreement, what flashed through my mind was not a sweet future, but the tragic ending of my past life—prison bars, fabricated evidence, and my wife Selena's cold face in court.
me to hell without hesitation .
Having been reborn, this time I will not be anyone's stepping stone again.
The real game only began the moment the agreement was torn up.

At two in the morning, I went out in the pouring rain to bring Victor the condoms he'd asked for.
He leaned against the doorframe of his penthouse and took the paper bag, letting his callused thumb brush across my knuckles. Then, with a soft laugh, he informed me that I had a blind date next Wednesday.
"Serena's coming back to New York. She can't find out you've been sleeping with me for five years."
"From now on, we're nothing to each other."

"Daddy... so cold... and it hurts..." When my precious daughter Mia whispered these words in her weak voice, my heart felt like it was being torn apart.
The life-saving medicine was just ten meters away, but that damned anti-magic barrier had become an insurmountable chasm between life and death.
What made me even more furious was that the vampire guarding the gate not only extorted my life savings, but also demanded I kneel like a dog and lick his boots before he would open the door.
He didn't know that if the door stayed closed, it wouldn't just be my daughter who died—his son and mother would perish too!

The system made me an outcast live-in husband in a werewolf clan for three years. The mission reward: 80 billion dollars. Now there's only half a day left until retirement settlement.

The arrogant pure-blood Alpha wants to force me into a deadly full moon execution array, roaring for me to kneel and die.

I don't even lift an eyelid. Right at quitting time, I directly withdraw my soul, leaving the body to the original owner "Ancestor Wolf Emperor" to handle, while I return to my Manhattan penthouse, sink into the leather sofa, and start a holographic livestream.

"Enjoy your night shift, everyone." I take a light sip of hot coffee, coldly watching the screen as the Wolf Emperor crushes that pure-blood Alpha's spine into mush with one foot, shocking my mission wife and mother-in-law into idiots.

My name is Leo Carson, I am eighteen years old, and I am dying.
Three years ago, my uncle Thomas stole the 500,000 Aurora Coins and the Awakening Potion that my parents left me with a fake psychiatric evaluation report, and threw me into the Rust Zone to die.
For the past three years, I have worked as a child laborer in a chemical plant, working sixteen hours a day and being treated like a dog.
Until Hela, the goddess of death, appeared and gave me the Book of Judgment . As long as I write down the other person's name and manner of death, they will die.
Now, those who have wronged me, it's time for you to pay your debts.

For ten years, I've been the biggest joke in Eden Fortress—a madman who draws a broken bow eight thousand times a day.
Duke, the plutocrat's heir, even uses me as cannon fodder bait.
But when the Crystalline Tyrant tears through the earth, when S-rank "savior" Duke pisses himself in terror before the monster, at that moment when the entire fortress waits in despair for death—I draw back that broken bow that's been mocked for ten years.

My eyes can see through the essence of all things, my empty bow can shoot down any existence.
From the beast's maw, one arrow obliterates the plutocrat's heir! From within the monster's belly, one arrow defeats the Mountain Tyrant! Above the fortress, one arrow disables all weaponry!

From bottom-tier waste and cannon fodder to the uncrowned king who brings an entire fortress to its knees—I use absolute strength to tell this world: True power never needs anyone's validation!

"She endured hardships with you back then just for your current net worth of a billion dollars. You must use the absolute 50/50 treatment to cure the 'poverty disease' in her bones."

After my husband's childhood friend Chloe returned from abroad, she brainwashed my husband, Ethan.

From then on, he demanded we split everything 50/50. Whether it was eating, sleeping, or doing household chores, even though I was pregnant, I had to pay half the cost.

Until one day I was hit by a car. Blood from a threatened miscarriage dripped all over the emergency room. The nurse held the bill, urging urgently: "Twenty thousand deposit to save the baby! Any slower and you'll miscarry!"

Ethan took out a black card, his voice ice-cold: "According to our 50/50 rule, I'm only paying my ten thousand."

I didn't cry or make a fuss. I simply took the ten thousand he gave me and got an abortion.

Silver poisoning struck, and my mother's life hung by a thread.
I knelt and begged my partner Selene to use the 100,000 gold coins from our war spoils to purchase Moonlight Holy Water, but she coldly refused with a sneer: "An ordinary silver poison patient isn't worth wasting resources on." She then turned and spent 80,000 coins on a necklace for her male lover.
My mother died in my arms as I ground my teeth and swallowed my tears of blood.
But when the patrol came to collect the body, she finally discovered—the one sent to be buried deep in the mass grave wasn't my mother at all, but her own biological mother.
She had personally buried her own mom!

In my previous life, I ran a barbecue restaurant to support my family for ten years, but my parents secretly sold the restaurant to a gang because of my younger brother's vanity in wanting him to study abroad.
An hour later, the apocalypse began, and my little shop became a god-level safe house—
Those with superpowers who enter the store have their abilities automatically copied to the store owner; the store is absolutely safe; the store owner decides who enters and who leaves.
My family ruined my amazing little shop, and they scolded me, saying, "Who told you to be unable to keep the shop?"
I was heartbroken and torn to pieces in the mouth of a zombie.
In this life, I was reborn back to an hour before the shop was taken away.
I must protect my shop!
As for those so-called family members—let them fend for themselves in the apocalypse!

Today was my wedding day.
In just one hour, I would be walking down the aisle in my wedding dress toward my future husband.

"Marry me. Come now.
Sender: Landon"

My childhood sweetheart had suddenly sent me a message. Just one sentence and a location pinned on a map.

I didn't even have time to change. I rushed to the location still wearing my wedding dress.
But when I arrived, what greeted me wasn't a wedding venue, but the unbridled, mocking laughter of Landon and his buddies.

"And here I thought she had some self-respect! She actually rented a wedding dress just to throw herself at Landon?"
"Hilarious. Landon’s been playing her this whole time, and she still has zero backbone. How pathetic!"
"All Landon has to do is whistle, and she comes running, wagging her tail like a dog!"

Because our souls were a one hundred percent match, I married the Supreme Commander of the Werewolf Empire.
After the wedding, he was ice-cold to me.
To make my life a little easier, I got creative in bed. Every single night.
Then today, right in the middle of my best performance yet, straddling Ryan, I got a red alert from the Genetics Bureau:
MATCHING SYSTEM ERROR.
RYAN IS NOT YOUR DESTINED MATE.
The man beneath me had no idea. He just frowned, impatient. "Are you doing this or not?"
I rolled off him and out of bed. "Not. You can go now."

The chieftainess returned from the poisonous fog with a swollen belly.
She announced that she carried the child of a god—a child who would bring hope to the entire base.
Only I knew that what she bore was no divine offspring, but a demon that would devour every soul in the base.
Because in my previous life, I was the one it had gnawed to death, alive...

Five months after Arthur died in the line of duty, my stepmother-in-law, Martha, dragged me into a private clinic in Seattle and tried to force me to end my pregnancy.
The consent form had barely come off the printer when a tiny, milk-sweet voice exploded inside my head—
Mommy, run! Daddy isn't dead! They've got him locked up in a veterans' rehab center outside the city, and they're brainwashing him!
Last time, you believed that wicked grandma. I never got born, and when Daddy found out the truth, he lost his mind!
I tore the form in half right there and stormed off to the rehab center, belly first.
I had just reached the door of the assessment room when I heard a woman's voice inside—the counselor—holding Arthur's hand and murmuring, "Captain, let go of the past. We can start over."
I lifted my foot and kicked that solid-wood door as hard as I could.

In the wasteland, I earned enough military merit to be awarded two territories by the Alliance: an industrial city and an iron mine in the frozen tundra. In my previous life, my wife's younger brother threw a fit until he got the industrial city, while my wife forced me to take the frozen tundra iron mine instead. While their whole family lived easy in the industrial city, squeezing the workers dry, I was down in the frozen tunnels, struggling to dig ore day after day. Then the acid rain apocalypse came. The industrial city was corroded and brought crashing down by the acid rain, and my wife's family ended up covered in burns and open wounds. Meanwhile, I was doing just fine inside the frozen mine shafts. Out of kindness, I sent people to bring them to my side. I never expected my wife's entire family to turn on me and kill me together. Before I died, I detonated every last stick of dynamite in the mine and dragged them all to hell with me.
But when I opened my eyes again, I was back in the Alliance office where the territories were being assigned. And this time, the first thing I heard was my wife saying, "Shut up! Give the industrial city to your brother-in-law!"

"Want to get married? Get over here. Now."
On Christmas Eve, Lucas texted me the address of a dive bar.
By the time I showed up in a wedding gown, gasping for breath, he and his gang were howling with laughter.
In front of everyone, he dropped to one knee in front of Mia, let his boys humiliate me to their heart's content, and even threatened to have me thrown into a police cell.
Until my real husband appeared and pulled me into his arms, staking his claim without a word.
Lucas's eyes went red in an instant.

When I was six, my father and his mistress drove my mother to jump to her death. Suicide is a sin, and the Church said her soul could not enter Heaven. So I set out to save her the only way I could: with my Rh-null "golden blood," I worked ninety-nine miracles of life.

Then came the hundredth call. The hospital needed me to save my father's illegitimate son.

Monday morning, I carried a whole box of Honeycrisp apples from a New Jersey farm into the meeting room.
By the time the meeting ended, everyone on the team had taken two, and between bites they told me how sweet they were.
Only Chloe, the intern, had forgotten to disconnect the projector.
Her Slack was still up on the big screen, and a channel called "Corporate Cattle Club" was going off nonstop.
Everyone on my team was in it.
Except me.
[Farm apples? Team Two got pour-over and fresh-baked croissants today.]
[How much commission did she take home last month? This cheap, and she thinks fruit is enough?]
[Everybody remember the year-end anonymous review — give her the lowest score. Best case they pull her and get us a new lead.]
I sat there for a second, blank.
Then I remembered last Christmas, when I used my own bonus to buy every single person on the team the newest iPhone.
I still had their thank-you messages saved on my phone.
That afternoon, I didn't lose my temper. I just quietly withdrew the pay-raise request for the whole team that I'd submitted that morning.
They wanted a different lead.
Fine. I'd give them one.

At the engagement banquet, I was publicly jilted, publicly humiliated by the vampire viscount, and regarded as a worthless nobody. Everyone thought I was at their mercy.
Little did they know that beneath my cheap suit lay the holy mark of the chief arbiter who had defected from the Vatican .
The moment the holy light appeared, the darkness trembled.

I suffered a head injury when I was little, so I’m a bit slow at everything I do.
My brother is the greatest hero in my heart, so I copy whatever he does—including being a simp.
He simped for a witch, so I did the same for her younger sister. But just as I was being relentlessly humiliated by the sister, and even dragged to the brink of death, my brother quit.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, I walked into the penthouse suite at the Plaza with twelve bodyguards at my back.
The room was thick with smoke, and the music was loud enough to make the floor shake. Seven or eight of New York's most well-connected heirs were sprawled across the sofas. When I came in, their champagne glasses stopped halfway to their mouths.
Dante Moretti sat right in the middle.
His shirt was open three buttons down, and he had his arm around a blonde. When he saw me, he didn't even change position. He just lit a cigarette, taking his time about it.
"Vivian." He blew out a stream of smoke and smiled lazily. "You're five years older than me. You should have figured out by now that you can't keep me on a leash. You've been managing me all these years. Aren't you tired?"
The girl in his arms giggled and traced little circles on his chest with one finger.
"Honey, once a woman's past thirty, she should just accept it." She batted her lashes at me. "Men like things fresh."
The whole room laughed.
I laughed with them.
Five years. I had wrestled the family back from his uncles and put him in the seat as head of the Moretti family. And he had dumped the entire weight of it on me and gone off to enjoy himself all over the world with one new face after another.
Every time I came to drag him home, his excuse was always the same: "I'm still young. I'm not done having fun."
In those five years, I had cleaned up more of his messes and buried more of his tabloid stories than I could count.

All of New York said Vivian Moretti must be desperately in love with her young husband to put up with this much.
No one knew the real reason.
I indulged him only because of his face.
That face of his — a striking mirror of his own elder brother, my white moonlight who had left this world too soon.
For five long years, I had spun for myself an elaborate dream.
And now, it was time to wake.

In my past life, I signed a marriage agreement, served as a live-in son-in-law for five years, and died in a hospital. Meanwhile, my "wife," Grace, was on the moon, embracing her lover and watching the star rings.
Given a second chance, she threw the agreement in my face at the marriage summit: "Sign it. After the wedding, I'll go find Karl. You'd better act like the legal wife."
I didn't refuse; I just tossed the agreement to my emotional nemesis .
The whole city laughed at my madness.
Until Grace flaunted her "pure-blood heir" at the 100-day celebration, I publicly projected her sterilization report—
the bastard in her arms was the product of her lover and a downtown prostitute.
And her lover was being mutilated in the downtown area.
In this life, I'm not a live-in son-in-law; I'm her gravedigger.

In my past life, I stood on the execution platform, watching the entire city—brainwashed by the Saintess—smile as they willingly degenerated into ghouls.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to exactly one month ago.

I smashed the knight's sword that symbolized my honor. Dragging a high-tier ghoul into my basement, I slashed my left wrist open with a heavy blade.

Stripping away all the Holy Light protecting my body, I brutally shoved my bleeding wrist straight into the ghoul's gaping maw.

My bones let out muffled, explosive cracking sounds as they were eroded by the tyrannical ghoul virus. I crushed the reinforced steel bedframe out of shape with my bare hands.

In my first life, Alpha Damon Hawthorne rescued me, made me his mate, and poisoned me.
When I woke in the forest, I remembered enough to change one thing: this time, I would get my friend Selene to safety, let him find her, and leave.
He chose her. I asked for my freedom.
Then he broke my betrothal to another man and told me I had always been his.

My name is Arthur, Atlantic City’s number one pauper and absolute peerless coward.
On the outside, I roar with sheer arrogance: "The debt collector has returned from Hell!"
On the inside, I’m sobbing hysterically: "Mommy, save me! I really don‘t want to act tough!"
My name is Arthur, a complete coward whose hands shake even when trying to kill a chicken.
That was, until I was bound to a completely unhinged [Absolute Bully System].
[Ding! Novice Bully Quest: Crash the Mafia banquet and splash red wine on the face of the corporate heiress!]
[Ding! Advanced Quest: Steal the Underground Godfather's wife!]
[Ding! Ultimate Quest: Walk right up to the Underground Godfather and slap him mercilessly across the face!]
"Screw you! I don't even have the guts to kill a chicken, and you want me to beat up the Emperor of the Underworld? No way! I'd rather starve to death than dig my own grave!"
[Ding! Host's refusal detected. Punishment impending: Serial sphincter rupture resulting in explosive public diarrhea, accompanied by penile retraction into the abdomen, and the reverse fracturing of all 206 bones. It will take seven days and seven nights for you to finally die! Countdown: 3 seconds.]
"... System Daddy, I was wrong."
To avoid dying of explosive diarrhea, I had no choice but to let the System control my body, kick the doors open, heft a Gatling gun, and laugh maniacally: "So you're supposed to be the Underground Emperor?!"
But deep down in my heart, I was wailing uncontrollably: "Mommy, save me! I really don't want to act tough anymore!"

She knelt in the pouring rain, pounding on my glass door, covered in mud, her voice hoarse from shouting. I stood inside, holding Lily's hand. She called my name, over and over, like calling a dead person. I lowered my head and said to Lily, "Come on, Daddy will take you to dinner." Then I turned and closed the door. From beginning to end, I didn't look at her once. Not because I still hated her. It was because she meant nothing to me anymore. And that woman didn't know—three years ago, when she threw me away like trash, I had already learned not to cling to trash.

An S-Rank [Thunder Tyrant]?

I watched coldly as the "good brother" who had betrayed me in my past life strutted around, stealing my woman and humiliating my F-Rank skill.

What he didn't know was that every time he channeled his lightning, his talent was draining his lifespan. In our past life, I was the one who used my skill, [Status Reset], to restore his life force time and time again.

Reborn for another lifetime, I decided I was done playing the saint.

When the crimson behemoth shattered the dome, Brad laughed maniacally, summoning a storm of lightning. But in an instant, the fierce backlash turned his arms into brittle charcoal, shattering in pieces across the ground. I stepped over his rolling, mutilated body and picked up a piece of rusty scrap metal.

"Reset."

The dead rust was eradicated. The scrap metal instantly reverted to a fully charged, high-frequency combat blade.

Gripping the blade in one hand, I faced the overwhelming tide of corpses and carved out a path of blood.

The luxury cruise ship in the high seas had become a floating steel coffin for the beautiful CEO and me.
Just a door away, the corridor was teeming with slithering, tentacled Mimics. The wet, crunching sounds of them chewing on raw flesh were enough to make anyone’s scalp go numb.
Inside the pitch-black storage cabin—measuring barely three square meters—the usually aloof and untouchable Ice Queen of the corporate world was so terrified she had her flawless body pressed desperately against my chest.
In this extreme claustrophobia, her scalding body heat generated a fierce friction against me in the face of absolute despair.
"Keep me alive. Everything I have... is yours."

I spent three years in the squad — three years carrying them to the top of the S-rank hero league. And their reward? They decided my B-rank rating wasn't good enough, and brought in an A-rank support to replace me. Fine. I'm done pretending. The truth is, I'm S-rank.

My wife and my best friend had an affair for sixteen years, and I raised their illegitimate child for sixteen years.
It wasn't until Brody suddenly became rich that they dropped their pretense and kicked me out like trash.
Ironically, a month later, extreme cold struck, and Brody's vast fortune became worthless, leaving the three of them huddled in their apartment waiting to die.
I took them in because I felt sorry for them.
When the food ran out, they tied me to the basement, cut off pieces of my flesh, and roasted and ate them.
Reborn, in this life, I will make them kneel and beg for death.

His military medals from three hundred years ago are the last mark of his human identity; now hidden in a junkyard, he is forced to tear off the disguise of the progenitor of the night due to a forced marriage. With powerful figures pressing in, vampires besieging him, and the Holy See approaching, he, in his mortal body, protects the orphan of his benefactor and faces the destined battle.

In the end-stage of acute heart failure, the life-saving heart I had waited three grueling years for was secretly reallocated by my parents and husband to Sera, the "true" daughter of the family.

My heart turned to ash. I refused the doctor's final conservative treatment plan and injected a potent, lethal neuro-stimulant.
The price for blocking the agonizing pain of my failing heart was total cardiac collapse and death in three days.

In these three days, I gave up all arguments and resistance.
When Adrian impatiently threw down the divorce papers, I signed them without hesitation; when the daughter I raised with my own hands pushed me away in disgust, hiding in Sera’s arms and calling her "Mommy"; when I handed over the Foundation I had spent eight years building entirely to Sera—they didn't even notice my paper-white face.

They only looked at me with relief and said, "If you had been this sensible earlier, our family wouldn't have gotten so ugly."

I am very curious. When I am dead, what will they think then?

Selena stole my sister's talent and became a saint. To appease her, my family threw my sister into a mass grave. The first thing I did after crawling back from purgatory was to crush Selena's knees. She knelt before my sister's grave, never to rise again. As for the Archbishop of the Privy Council? He would kneel before the thorny cross on my chest too.

My fiancée Chloe dumped me, a veteran, for Seth's multi-million dollar fortune. As she left, she threw $100,000 at me with contempt in her eyes.
Little did I know that while I was using the money to stockpile weapons and food and upgrade the steel fortress, she and Seth were squandering it all in their luxurious villa.
Seven days later, the zombie outbreak occurred. I was enjoying steak and red wine in the fortress, while that despicable couple was slapping each other over a mouthful of dirty water in the ruins.
Thanks to my ex-girlfriend's generous sponsorship, I lived like a king in the apocalypse.

I was reborn, back to the moment before I was dragged to death by motorcycles in the wasteland.

In my previous life, I listened to the moral blackmail of the saintly female lead Daisy and used my abilities to desperately save a motorcycle gang surrounded by zombies.

As a result, I was severely injured from ability overexertion, and these ungrateful wolves used me as a tool to establish dominance, dragging me to death with motorcycles across the wasteland.

Before I died, Daisy was still there crying: "We tried our best, this isn't our fault."

Now that I have a second chance, she stands before me again shouting:

"Cole! What are you standing there for? Go save them! Those people are going to die! You have abilities, you must save them!"

Looking at her hypocritical saintly face, rage burned in my chest.

Why should my abilities save ungrateful wolves? Why should my life be a stepping stone for others?

The kindness of fools is worthless!

So I threw her out to feed the zombies!

I begged my mom for ten dollars, but she smashed my head with a frying pan instead.

The next day, my mother posted on a forum asking:
"Hi everyone. My eldest son lied about the end of the world just to get ten dollars. I want to ask, how can I sell him on the underground black market to pay off his younger brother's $20,000 debt?"

The moment I saw that post, any remaining love I had for them died instantly. I snapped my phone's SIM card in half.

What she didn’t know was that a world-ending acid flood would descend upon New York tomorrow.

I had begged so bitterly for that ten dollars just to trigger the Ten-Million-Fold Return System to build a three-billion-dollar Doomsday Ark.

Since she didn’t want it, I gave the throne of the Ark Queen to the female classmate who casually tossed me some charity.

In my first life, Alpha Damon Hawthorne rescued me, made me his mate, and poisoned me.

When I woke in the forest years earlier, I remembered enough to change one thing: this time, I would get my friend Selene to safety, let him find her, and leave.

He chose her. I asked for my freedom.

Then he broke my betrothal to another man and told me I had always been his.

At a lavish dinner, a billionaire with a net worth of four billion embraced my ex-wife and slapped five thousand yuan in my face: "Kneel down, kiss her shoes, and then get out of here."
The entire audience of celebrities burst into laughter, while the ex-wife's eyes were filled with the pleasure of revenge.
Without even lifting my eyelids, I dialed a number in front of everyone: "I'm going to bankrupt one person. Execution level: nuclear bomb."
They laughed at me for pretending to be crazy.
Three minutes later, the entire nation was in an uproar. Four billion dollars in assets were frozen, the FBI broke down the door, and the once arrogant tycoon collapsed to the ground like a dog.
I endured for three years, just to save her grandfather's life. Since she's in such a hurry to break the contract, I don't need to pretend anymore.
This is not just a story about divorce; it's a countdown to the gods regaining control of the Book of Life and Death on Earth.

My brother ripped out my S-Class Sword Bone and shoved it into his own chest, then stuffed his trash-tier talent, [Shepherd], right into mine.

My fiancée cuddled up in his arms, while my biological father expressionlessly threw me into a chaotic spatial anomaly.
They thought I would rot in that alternate dimension. Little did they know, the trash talent [Shepherd] harbored a hidden evolution: [Outer God Shepherd]. A talent perfectly tailored to enslave the various outer-god monstrosities lurking within the void...

Seven days later, surfing atop a hundred-meter-long Demonic God Train, I smashed backward through a skyscraper. I punched my cheating fiancée, kicked my scumbag father, and pierced my brother’s chest with a single bare hand, ripping out that glowing Sword Bone along with his flesh and sinew.

"Time to pay the interest on the bone you borrowed."