Quye Xiaofang

She died in the apocalypse—betrayed, abandoned, and torn apart by the infected. Then she woke up. Two months before the end of the world. Twenty-two years old again. And on her wrist, a wooden bracelet that her mother had left behind. The bracelet came with a system. A system that eats gold. With enough gold, she can unlock infinite storage for food, water, weapons—anything she needs to survive. The super-hurricane, the floods, the insect plagues, the volcanic winter, the scorching heat… she knows exactly what's coming. While the world sleeps, Joanna shops. She drains her aunt's bank account, maxes out every loan she can find, and buys out half the city. The apocalypse is coming. She'll be ready. But when the chaos begins, the wolves come crawling back—relatives who sold her, friends who betrayed her, a father who abandoned her. They want her food. Her water. Her mercy. Joanna has a different plan. "Why don't you decide who dies first?"

I was forced to marry the most ruthless Capo in New York to save my family from a blood execution. For two years, I endured his psychotic jealousy as he paraded a mistress around the city—not because he wanted her, but because he knew she was connected to my past. When I finally handed him the divorce papers, I discovered a sickening truth. The mistress was the half-sister of my mob lawyer—the same lawyer who happened to be my first love. "I stayed close to try to save you both!" Julian confessed, his hands shaking on the steering wheel. "I thought I could pull her out and break your marriage at the same time!" He claimed his twisted plan was to rescue me. Instead, it pushed his desperate sister to the brink of madness. She lunged at me in my own bedroom, driving a six-inch blade into my side. "You hold the crown and you don't even want it!" she screamed. "I would kill for someone to look at me the way he looks at you!" As I lay bleeding out on the mattress, my husband and my first love fought over me, both screaming my name. I had broken my own heart years ago to save Julian from this violent underworld. I didn't understand why my sacrifice only turned him into a manipulative monster, just like my husband. Why did their twisted versions of love only bring me scars and blood? Waking up in the hospital, I looked at the two men desperately offering me blood-soaked thrones. I calmly signed the dissolution papers, took ten percent of the clean assets, and walked away. This time, I was done being a queen on any man's board.

I was supposed to be the perfect daughter. Smile at the rich men my mother chose. Quit my job as a trauma nurse when one of them finally decided I was worth marrying. Pretend love did not matter as long as the groom had money, status, and a family name my mother could show off. Then a gunman broke into my hospital. I caught him before he could finish what he came to do, and he took me hostage with a pistol pressed to my head. When he shoved me over the edge of a stairwell, I thought I was going to die. But Alonso came after me. The mysterious military commander with no rank on his uniform and an entire room terrified to breathe around him threw himself down the stairs and wrapped his body around mine, taking the concrete with his own back so I would survive. He was dangerous. Dominant. A Wolf from a world I was never supposed to belong to. I was Wolfless. Ordinary. Nobody. So why did he look at me like I was the only thing he had been searching for? Why did he send white roses to my car? Why did his voice make my body obey before my mind could fight back? And why did he offer me the one escape my family could never control? "Marry me," Alonso said. "I protect what is mine." It was not a normal marriage. It was a Fated Mate Binding Agreement, a supernatural contract that would place me under his Pack’s protection and tie my fate to the most dangerous Alpha I had ever met. I should have said no. Instead, I signed. The next morning, I walked into my parents' house, looked my mother in the eye, and calmly said the one thing she could never undo. "I got married yesterday."

I was the legitimate daughter of the Hutchinson family, brought back from the mountains after years of living in poverty. But my biological parents didn't love me. They only brought me back to take my sister's place and marry a dying man for a 300 million dollar capital injection. In that house, I was worse than a stray dog. My mother locked me in the basement, and my father only saw me as a prop for his investors. Meanwhile, Cornie played the crying victim, twisting her designer skirts while everyone comforted her. "You marrying into the Vanderbilt family is a blessing you don't deserve. It saves us the trouble of looking at you." I couldn't understand why my own blood treated me like a disposable price tag while treating the other daughter like a princess. Since family ties meant nothing to them, I forced my father to sign a legal document severing all ties with me permanently before I signed the marriage agreement. I thought I was just escaping one cage for another with a dying billionaire. But when I got into his Maybach, my new husband wasn't just breathtakingly handsome. When he saw the cheap silver pendant on my neck, his cold facade completely shattered. He pulled out a matching half-circle pendant, crushing me into a desperate, bone-breaking hug. "From this second on, you are mine. Anyone who makes you cry—I will tear them apart."

Karlie Holloway woke up bleeding in a dark cave on an alien planet, her leg pinned beneath twisted metal shrapnel. Before she could even process the pain, a massive, feral man lunged from the shadows, his eyes reduced to crimson slits. His mind was shattered by a biological frenzy, and his leg was rotting from a deliberately poisoned wound. He was Gavin Knapp, a warrior betrayed. His fiancée had secretly drugged him, and his stepbrother had lured him into a deadly trap. They left him to die raving mad in the wilderness so they could steal his inheritance. "Get off me!" Karlie gasped as his massive hands pinned her to the cold rock, his hot breath suffocating her. She had no weapons and no strength to fight off a monster. If she struggled, he would crush her. If they stayed in this cave, his family's cruel plot would succeed, and they would both rot in the dirt. It was sickeningly cruel. A strong man reduced to a worthless, crippled beast by the people he trusted most. Why should his abusers get to live comfortably in the settlement while he suffered in agony? And why should Karlie die as collateral damage on a planet she didn't even belong to? Staring into his wild, desperate eyes, Karlie stopped struggling and activated her AI interface. She grabbed the burning skin of his neck and initiated the energy symbiosis. She wasn't just going to cure his cursed leg, she was going to take her new mate back to the settlement and make his betrayers pay.

Elie Joyce’s entire life was controlled by Ebert Ewing, a ruthless billionaire who held her sick grandmother's survival and her family's freedom in his hands. But on a freezing, stormy night, he forced her into a scandalous scrap of red silk and handed her over to a notorious, disgusting predator. "You aren't an escort. You're just a free gift." Ebert mocked her, using her as a disposable bargaining chip to secure a corporate funding round. When the predator humiliated her, forced high-proof vodka down her throat, and violently pinned her to the floor, Ebert simply watched with dead eyes. And when Ebert finally intervened to brutally beat the man, it wasn't out of mercy. "She is my property. Even if she is trash that I threw away, a filthy pig like you doesn't get to touch her." Afterward, he dragged her battered, barefoot body into his car, only to kick her out into the torrential rain, leaving her on the dark streets to die. Standing in the storm, shivering and bleeding from broken glass, the last shred of Elie's hope shattered. She had sacrificed her dignity and soul, enduring his violent bites and cruel control, just to keep her family alive. Why did she have to suffer this endless, twisted humiliation for a psychopath who only saw her as trash? But she didn't break. Tearing a strip of his expensive shirt to bandage her bleeding foot, Elie gripped her broken stiletto like a knife. With her eyes turning cold and calculating, she limped out of the shadows. She was going to survive, and Ebert Ewing would soon realize she was no longer his obedient prey.

I was the blind, wolf-less burden of the Silver Moon Pack, relying entirely on my Fated Mate, Zane, to be my protector in the dark. But one night, my sight and my dormant Alpha wolf suddenly awakened, only to find Zane writhing in bed with my half-sister, Lyra. "Once I have the title to her timberlands, I’m kicking that wolf-less waste of space to the curb." Zane's cruel sneer shattered my naive heart. Worse, my adoptive father, the Alpha, was entirely complicit. To secure an alliance, he was secretly arranging to lock me in a room with a notorious, sadistic Alpha whose previous mates had all died under gruesome circumstances. They stripped me of my dignity and my inheritance, mocking my supposed helplessness right to my face while I pretended I still couldn't see. The grief of their absolute betrayal felt like a physical blow, quickly hardening into a cold, suffocating rage. I couldn't understand how the family I loved could plot my brutal execution with such casual cruelty. Instead of crying, I kept my eyes unfocused, played the pathetic cripple they expected, and walked straight into the forest to find a terrifyingly powerful Lycan disguised as a Rogue. "I want to seal our pact with a blood oath. From this moment forward, you are my mate." I claimed the monster as my own. This time, I wouldn't be their tragic victim; I was going to burn their entire kingdom to the ground.

On my husband Heath's birthday, I sent him a gift: the preserved embryo of the child I had just aborted. It was my revenge. He had framed my father, driving him to prison and my mother to her grave, all for his mistress, Ember. When he stormed into our apartment, his face twisted with rage, he slammed me against the counter. "You monster! How could you destroy our child?" "You forfeited that right the moment you chose Ember over us," I spat back. But my defiance only led to more horror. He had me committed to a mental asylum where Ember, the architect of my family's ruin, tortured me with electroshock therapy, trying to break my mind. I feigned submission, then fought back, throwing both of us out of a third-story window. I survived; she was left in critical condition. Lying in my hospital bed, Heath came to me not with remorse, but with a chilling demand. "Ember needs a tendon graft. You're a match. The surgery is tomorrow." He thought he had me trapped, that he could force me to sacrifice a piece of myself for the woman who destroyed me. But as he left to comfort his mistress, I made a call. The next morning, as he begged me not to go through with the "surgery," I walked away, leaving him in the ruins of the life he had shattered. He didn't know this wasn't a surgery. It was my escape, and the beginning of his end.

My life with Liam was flawless. He was the brilliant tech entrepreneur, and I was his cherished wife, expecting our first child, Lily. Everyone said we were the perfect couple, and I believed it. Then, a crack appeared. It started small – hushed phone calls, a secretive smile not meant for me, a promising new intern named Chloe Davis. Today, the crack shattered our lives. Liam, who' d never missed a check-up, abandoned me for a "huge deal" and a presentation where Chloe was the star. Alone at the doctor' s, the cold dread in my heart eclipsed the perfect flicker of Lily's heartbeat on the ultrasound. Later, a news article confirmed my worst fears. Liam, beaming with adoration, presenting Chloe with keys to a luxury car on stage. The public admiration for her "integrity" twisted the knife. It wasn' t just infidelity; it was a grotesque, public performance that humiliated me. The shock morphed into a chilling rage when I found the pre-signed divorce agreement Liam had given me on our wedding day – an "insurance policy" for his infidelity. He had promised me everything if he ever wronged me. The man who wrote that was gone, replaced by a stranger who had made me a fool. But the final, brutal blow came at the hospital. Drugged, I overheard Liam and the doctor. They had induced premature labor, risking Lily' s life, just so Chloe could move in as a "live-in assistant." I tried to scream, knowing instantly they were going to take my baby. They thought I was weak, broken. But as the horror consumed me, a thought pierced through the haze: the email. The one confirming my connection with Ethan Hayes, Liam' s bitter rival. A seed of revenge had been planted just as my world burned down.

The grand ballroom shimmered with a golden glow, filled with the hum of celebration. It was my engagement party, a day before the wedding, and for eight long years, I had believed I was marrying the man of my dreams. Then, a casual conversation shattered my world. My fiancé, Mark, and his friends revealed a bet-a perverse wager placed on my virginity, my wedding night reduced to a prize in their cruel game. Humiliation washed over me as Mark stood by, allowing their repulsive jokes, even adding to them, reducing my years of devoted love to mere "merchandise." His "intimacy phobia," which I' d patiently nurtured, was nothing but a calculated deception to keep me at arm's length while he truly lived. My supposed future husband, the epitome of my life' s aspirations, had been laughing at me all along. How could he? How could the man I loved betray me so utterly, so casually, right before our wedding? Every sacrifice, every moment of understanding, felt like a fool' s errand. Was everything about us, about him, a lie? I wouldn't stand for it. The wedding was off. But this wasn't just a cancellation; it was a detonation. I would make sure he paid for every single lie, every betrayal, and every tear.

For ten years, I was Lily, the devoted apprentice, the silent force behind Master Thomas, the legendary sculptor. My hands, scarred and stained, shaped his clay, sharpened his tools, and managed his chaotic life, making his artistic legacy my own. Our bond was a monument, forged in the dust and silence of his mountain studio, beyond simple love or romance, more enduring than any fleeting passion. Then, one Tuesday, the monument cracked. Master Thomas, beaming like a madman, introduced Serena: a gaudy, perfume-drenched city creature who declared herself his "new muse." And then came the final blow, echoing in the stunned silence of the workshop: "She has agreed to become my wife." The woman who replaced me had never touched a block of clay in her life. His betrayal was a public declaration that my decade of devotion meant nothing, that I was easily discarded for a fleeting fancy. My fellow apprentices seethed, ready to protest this injustice, wondering why I merely offered a small, imperceptible nod. How could I contain the storm raging inside me? How could I let them see the truth – the bitter rage, the cutting contempt for this senile old goat who dared to light his own legacy on fire for a minute of warmth? But I had a dangerous secret: some secrets are not kept. A strange, new connection had just begun, allowing another apprentice, Leo, to hear my true thoughts-the ones I locked away behind my serene facade. He heard my silent, scathing assessment of Serena, my quiet strategies, and my fierce protection of the younger apprentices when Thomas demanded I bow to his new "Mistress." The battle had just begun, and the old man, lost in his infatuation, had no idea I wasn' t just a sculptor. I was a warrior, and it was time to reclaim what was mine.

My parents always said I was bad luck, but my Grandma Stella was the only light in my brutal home, my only shield against their cruel abuse. When Grandma Stella finally succumbed to her pain, ignored and reviled by my mother, her last breath was a desperate plea for relief, drowned out by contempt. My mother, truly monstrous, ordered me to take Grandma' s body and dump it in the industrial lot, a feast for stray dogs, claiming she was "trash." Against their wishes, I secretly buried her in the old church cemetery, the one they coveted for themselves, whispering a desperate vow for justice into the cold earth, sealing it with my own blood. But soon, strange accidents plagued our house-my brother's fever, our truck dying, even our chickens dropping dead without a mark. They blamed me, a proven curse, and brought in a crooked preacher who, instead of helping, declared me the vessel of misfortune and conspired to use me as bait for "the spirit." Now, cornered and used, I realize my quiet promise to Grandma was far more powerful than I ever imagined, turning our home into a terrifying battleground where true reckoning begins.

I was 39 weeks pregnant, eagerly nesting for our daughter, Emily. Our Austin home was filled with dreams of a perfect new family. My ambitious architect husband, Ethan, traveled constantly for "high-stakes" projects. But I trusted our future. Then, breaking news flashed across the screen: a military coup in South America. On it, his award-winning documentary filmmaker ex-girlfriend, Olivia, was caught in the chaos, presumed in grave danger. That same night, as my first contractions began, Ethan dropped a bombshell. He was flying to South America immediately. Not for business, but for her. He walked out as my water broke. He was choosing his ex over his wife and unborn child. Days later, news of Ethan's critical injury reached me. It unleashed a barrage of demands from his family and friends. They expected me to rescue him, to pay his escalating medical bills. They expected me to be the forgiving "dutiful wife"—despite his shocking betrayal. But the deepest cut came when my lawyer unearthed the truth. For years, Ethan had been secretly siphoning thousands from our joint savings. He was taking from our daughter's future, funneling it to Olivia's 'humanitarian' non-profit. It wasn't just abandonment. It was a cold, systematic betrayal, built on lies. How could he do this to us, to Emily? I refused to follow his family's script. When a critically injured Ethan finally returned, expecting forgiveness and a tearful reunion, I was there. Not as a heartbroken wife. Instead, I was armed with divorce papers and a fierce determination to reclaim every penny he stole. This was my battle, for Emily and for me. It was the beginning of a new life on our own terms.

Three years ago, my step-brother Chad and ex-fiancée Jessica conspired to strip me of everything, casting me out of the powerful Harrison family empire. Now, I was a different man, forged in Las Vegas under the tutelage of the formidable Big Tony Costello, learning the real game of power. Tonight, I sat quietly in the Bellagio' s most exclusive VIP room, observing, a discreet cog in Big Tony' s vast machine. Then, loud and obnoxious, Chad swaggered in, Jessica clinging to his arm like a trophy. His mocking laughter boomed as he recognized me, "Alex Miller! Didn't expect to see you in a place like this, unless you' re running chips now?" Jessica' s practiced disinterest and feigned sympathy only twisted the knife, reminding me of her betrayal. They tried to break me, publicly humiliating me with their false pity and accusations of being a "pauper" clinging to the edges of their world. Chad then brought in a professional cheat, Silas, who, with Jessica' s distracting help, tried to swindle me out of $50 million in a high-stakes poker game. When I exposed their brazen cheating, the Harrisons themselves stormed in, my step-mother' s slap resounding across my face as they arrogantly refused to pay the debt, threatening to use their power to silence me. The sheer audacity, the injustice of being treated like trash again by the very people who took everything, was infuriating. How could they be so brazen, so certain of their untouchable power, even after being caught red-handed? Was I forever marked as the Harrison reject, destined to be humiliated whenever our paths crossed? But they underestimated the silent strength I had cultivated, the quiet confidence that now flowed through me. "No limit," I stated, leaning into the table, ready to turn their spectacle into their undoing. What they didn't know was that the real power in Las Vegas was already on its way, and their cruel game was about to become their worst nightmare.

For five years, I was Sarah Jenkins, devoted caregiver to Ethan Montgomery, the handsome heir supposedly paralyzed after an accident. I sacrificed my youth, nurturing his phantom pains and enduring his moods. One stormy night, I risked my life to bring him his "emergency pain medication." Approaching his suite, I overheard him. Ethan' s voice, chillingly detached, revealed his "paralysis" was a lie. I was merely "penalty number ninety-eight" in his five-year revenge game against an ex-girlfriend. My world shattered. He was a monster, and I, his puppet. The humiliation intensified as I was systematically replaced. Then came the "ninety-ninth penalty": a brutal ambush in a derelict warehouse, orchestrated by his accomplice, Mark, the agony recorded for Ethan's sadistic pleasure. How could such malice exist? The physical pain paled against the soul-deep violation, the crushing realization of my utter powerlessness. My body was broken, but a cold, unyielding rage ignited within me. I wouldn't be his next victim. As the storm quieted, a decisive plan formed. I would disappear, truly vanish. My staged death would be his unwitting farewell, and for me, the first step towards a new life, finally free from his monstrous shadow.

Ethan Vanderbilt, heir to a formidable real estate empire, believed he had it all: a thriving business, a sophisticated life, and Isabella Hawthorne, the woman he saved from a shipwreck years ago at the cost of his own future children. His perfect world shattered during their engagement party when Isabella confessed she was pregnant with his rival's baby, then pressed an antique dagger to his abdomen, cruelly demanding he claim the child as his own, rubbing salt in the wound of his infertility. The ultimate humiliation came after I found her with her lover, Liam Spencer, in our penthouse; she pushed me, splitting my head open, then had her guards chain me outside on our 50th-story terrace during a raging storm, casually dismissing our entire relationship as a mere "dynastic necessity." Lying bleeding and soaking wet, listening to her dismiss our life, my decades of devotion, my profound love died, replaced by a chilling clarity and an unyielding rage; how could any human be so cruel, so calculating, after everything I sacrificed for her? But instead of breaking, that betrayal ignited a fire; I walked away from the wreckage of our life, and now, my ex-fiancée, who thought she held all the cards, is about to learn that a Vanderbilt, scorned and humiliated, doesn't just break—he rebuilds, he retaliates, and he truly lives, with a new bride and a new empire, leaving her with nothing but regret.

Our small house always felt heavy with unspoken things. Today, it felt sharp, like a shard of glass against my skin. Grandma Susan, my only comfort, hummed softly outside. A cold dread, my familiar "knowing," whispered of coming disaster. Then I saw it: a sleek cougar, yellow eyes fixed on Grandma. I called my father, a deputy, begging for help. He was at the fair with Jessica, his favored daughter, and scoffed. "You're just trying to spoil her fun," he laughed. The town watched as I fought alone, risking everything to save Grandma from the attacking beast. My own father never came. His furious colleagues returned, reporting his indifference. Jessica, my stepsister, gloated about *our* shared birthday, her annual cake mocking my lifelong neglect. Later, I found the cougar’s secret: a tiny cub, Jessica’s cruel trophy, hidden in our shed. I led the enraged mother cougar away, deep into the woods, knowing I was marked. Scratched and terrified, I returned only for my father to publicly grab and slap me. “You’re a disgrace, Emily!” he raged, just as the cougar lunged directly at *me*. Why did this beast hunt me? Why did my own father constantly poison my existence, always protecting Jessica’s malicious whims? Then, a crumpled envelope revealed a full university scholarship. He had hidden it. As his monstrous lies about Jessica, the cub, and a lifetime of dark family secrets unraveled, everything I believed combusted. My mother’s eyes, finally truly seeing me, filled with a dawning, terrifying horror. And then, the gunshots shattered the night.

Ellie, a woman who sacrificed her dreams for her husband Marcus's tech empire, NovaCore, receives a devastating diagnosis: late-stage pancreatic cancer. As she grapples with her mortality, she confronts Marcus about his escalating infidelity with Chloe Sanders and his cold indifference towards her. Instead of comfort, Marcus dismisses her pain and accuses her of dramatics, even suggesting she "die to get his attention." The grim reality of her impending death forces Ellie to face the harsh truth of her broken marriage and her husband's betrayal. She prepares for her final farewell, arranging her cremation and cutting ties with the life that has only brought her heartache. Even as she weakens, Chloe's malicious taunts continue, culminating in the cruel demolition of Ellie and Marcus's first home—their symbol of innocent love and shared dreams. In her final moments, Ellie leaves Marcus a signed divorce paper and a journal entry wishing she had never met him, asserting that he destroyed her and took everything. Overcome by guilt and a terrifying vision of Ellie’s death, Marcus tries to atone by rebuilding their first home and showering the "resurrected" Ellie with love and attention, believing he has been given a second chance. However, his manufactured reality shatters on their 20th anniversary when a ghostly Ellie reveals the devastating truth: he's been living a hallucination, a desperate dream to escape his grief and the consequences of his actions. As his dream collapses, Marcus loses everything – NovaCore, his fortune, and his sanity – ultimately vanishing, a ghost forever haunted by the woman he destroyed and the love he could never reclaim.

It had just occurred to Vivian that her life had been wrapped up with lies and betrayal. Her father misunderstood her, Her stepmother set her up, Her stepsister stole the man she loved and even sent her to her blind date’s bed...Overnight, she had lost everything. However, not everything. Jeffrey, her blind date, had given her a baby. He offered her a deal to help her avenge herself and get back everything that belonged to her. The only condition was to marry him. With her CEO husband, she was going to make a triumphant return.

Genevieve woke up choking on her own blood, a fatal gash tearing through her abdomen. The memories of a primitive world crashed into her mind—she had transmigrated into the body of a sadistic beastman Mistress. But the five powerful beastmen "mates" standing over her hadn't come to her rescue. They had come to watch their tormentor die. "We should just leave her," Kameron sneered coldly. "The scavengers will clean up the mess." Gilberto spat in disgust, while Angelo, a silver-scaled snake-man, trembled in pure terror at the sight of her. The original owner had whipped them, humiliated them, and driven another mate to suicide. Now, they were letting her bleed out in the mud, their eyes filled with undisguised loathing and satisfaction. She was a top-tier apocalyptic survival expert, yet here she was, paying the ultimate price for a stranger's monstrous sins. It was a bitter, unacceptable irony to die helplessly in the dirt while her supposed protectors waited for her corpse to rot. She refused to accept this ending. Forcing a chaotic surge of energy through their shared Biological Link, she brought all five men to their knees in agonizing pain, commanding them to carry her back. In the dark cave, without a single scream, she plunged her bare hands into a fire and brutally cauterized her own gaping wound with searing ash. As the beastmen stared in horrified awe at the unbreakable soul now occupying the tyrant's body, Genevieve wiped the blood from her face and began to rewrite her fate.

Elena died on the operating table, betrayed by her husband, her unborn child already gone. But death? Just her intermission. She woke up in a whole new world-a beastmen's world, where females are rarer than diamonds and the strongest males go mad without a woman's mark to calm them down. And her? Labelled the weakest female alive. An F-rank body with a joke of a status. But hidden inside? Unlimited mental power. Just as she's figuring out this mess, a system pops up with one hell of an offer: Complete the missions. Bond with assigned males. Save this world. Do all that, and you get a one-way ticket back home. for revenge. Sounds simple? Think again. A Wolf General, colder than a blizzard, who should have ended her-ended up letting her mark him. A Fox Prince, all charming smiles and secret schemes, who started playing games only to lose his own heart. A golden Dragon, sunshine-bright and fiercely possessive, who declares her his destined treasure. A shadowy Serpent, too patient and too dangerous, watching her every move from the dark. A Phoenix King, whose love burns so hot he'd reduce empires to cinders for her. They all need her mark. They all want her. And sharing? Not in their vocabulary. Too bad for them- She's not here for love stories. She's here to survive. To climb. To turn their legendary power into her own stepping stones. And one day. To go back and make her betrayers wish they were never born.

My retirement was finally approved, and I was supposed to be sipping drinks on a sunny beach. Instead, a cold system voice forced me into a nightmare scenario: "Cursed Mates Who Want Me Dead." I woke up in a stinking cave, trapped in the body of a psychopathic tribal princess. The memories that flooded my brain made me sick. The original owner of this body had forcibly marked seven of the continent's most powerful beast-men and reduced them to tortured pets. She had ripped the shimmering scales off Jordi the Merfolk prince, gouged out a proud wolf-man's power crystal, and snapped an eagle-man's magnificent wings. Now, Jordi was a mutilated, terrified mess hiding in a corner. He was so traumatized that he tried to slit his own throat just to escape me. His sister was actively trying to assassinate me. To make matters worse, the system warned me that if I didn't heal these seven ticking time bombs, my soul would be erased. Yet the future timeline clearly showed that these men would eventually unite, burn my tribe to the ground, and dismember me alive. I was paying for a monster's sins. Every time I tried to show mercy, they thought it was a sick new torture method. Words were useless, and my very presence was a trigger. But I am a Tier-S operative, and I don't play the victim. I forced the system to unlock my powers and strapped on my tactical gear. "Stay here and don't starve." I left the trembling Merfolk behind and walked into the deadly primitive forest, heading straight for the powerful Oasis Tribe to take back his stolen scales by force.

Isolde woke up in a freezing, ruined stone house with a splitting headache and only five percent of her life signs remaining. Before she could even process the mechanical system voice in her head, a flood of violent memories slammed into her. She had transmigrated into the body of a cruel noblewoman who mercilessly tortured her beastmen husbands with a barbed whip. And right now, she was lying in a pool of her own blood, having been shoved against the stone floor by one of them. Outside the rickety door, her husbands were coldly discussing her death. "Just go in and finish her. One stab, and we're free." "If she hit her head and died on her own, then it's an accident. We walk out of here as free males." To test if she was faking her sudden amnesia, the snake beastman Dangelo even ground his heavy military boot into her injured hand, waiting for her to snap so he could legally end her. She was poisoned, freezing, and entirely at the mercy of the men who deeply despised her. She was bearing the deadly consequences of a monster she never was, with a red system warning of imminent death flashing in her mind. But they didn't know the new Isolde had awakened a survival system and Life Magic. She swore a blood oath to the Beast God to buy herself three months of time. Then, she turned her sights to the dying wolf beastman chained in the shed, deciding to pull him back from hell to become her very first shield.

Aubree pushed Ezra down the grand staircase, crippling the only man who silently protected her. She thought she was finally escaping his control to be with her true love, Foster Newton. But she had no idea it was a vicious trap meticulously set by Newton and her sweet, innocent cousin, Brandi. Once Ezra was driven out of New York in despair, Aubree's life became a living hell. Her father completely disowned her. Brandi smoothly took over her home and her millions in inheritance. "You were just a stepping stone for us, Aubree." That was the last thing Newton sneered before leaving her to die. Lying on the freezing floor, her warm blood pooling in her palms, Aubree finally saw the horrifying truth. She had destroyed her own family and ruined the one man who genuinely cared for her, all for a pair of greedy parasites. Endless regret and suffocating hatred consumed her fading consciousness. Why was she so blind? Why did she let them manipulate her into destroying her own life? Then, her eyes snapped open. A violent wave of dizziness hit her. She looked down at her pale, flawless hands. There were no deep cuts. There was no sticky blood. She was back. She had miraculously returned to the exact night she pushed Ezra, just two hours before his private jet was scheduled to leave forever. Hearing her father's furious roar outside her bedroom door, Aubree didn't cower. She wiped the smeared makeup from her face, her eyes turning dead cold. This time, she was going to make Ezra stay, and she was going to send those leeches straight to hell.

She died in the apocalypse—betrayed, abandoned, and torn apart by the infected. Then she woke up. Two months before the end of the world. Twenty-two years old again. And on her wrist, a wooden bracelet that her mother had left behind. The bracelet came with a system. A system that eats gold. With enough gold, she can unlock infinite storage for food, water, weapons—anything she needs to survive. The super-hurricane, the floods, the insect plagues, the volcanic winter, the scorching heat… she knows exactly what's coming. While the world sleeps, Joanna shops. She drains her aunt's bank account, maxes out every loan she can find, and buys out half the city. The apocalypse is coming. She'll be ready. But when the chaos begins, the wolves come crawling back—relatives who sold her, friends who betrayed her, a father who abandoned her. They want her food. Her water. Her mercy. Joanna has a different plan. "Why don't you decide who dies first?"

Caryn lay pinned beneath concrete slabs in the apocalyptic ruins, a steel rebar crushing her chest. Her fiancé, Ford, knelt in the narrow gap above her, completely unharmed. "Sorry, babe. It's a new world. Survival of the fittest." He sneered, twisting the cap off their last bottle of purified water. He drank it all, wiped his mouth with a clean hand, and told her she would just waste it. He had manipulated her into signing over her uncle's house—her only defensible shelter—just to sell it for cash. Now, as a violent aftershock ground the concrete down to crush her completely, Ford scrambled away without a single backward glance. For five brutal years of starvation and injury, she had clung to him and her grandmother's antique locket, only to die betrayed and full of agonizing regret. Why had she been so foolish to trade her survival for a lie? A gasp of frigid air flooded her lungs, and her eyes flew open to a smooth, white ceiling. She wasn't in the dusty ruins; she was in her pristine silk bed sheets. She grabbed her phone, her hands trembling as she stared at the date on the screen. It was exactly thirty days before the world would crack apart. She looked at the silver locket in her hand, a diamond-hard rage crystallizing in her chest. This time, she would activate its secret, and she would bleed Ford and his family dry before the apocalypse even began.

I was just hiking in Yosemite, but I woke up in a primitive forest with two moons and giant, mutated beasts. Before I could even process the shock, I was attacked by a monstrous saber-toothed tiger, only to be saved by a massive silver wolf who suddenly transformed into a fiercely possessive, completely naked man named Caleb. He claimed me as his own and carried me to his sprawling beast-man tribe. But the moment we arrived, I became the target of vicious ridicule. Jana, the tribe's most fertile female, pointed at my unmarked skin and publicly humiliated me. "She has no mate marks! She's a barren waste, useless for breeding!" Hearing this, the hundreds of beast-men who had just been eyeing me with lust instantly stepped back in disgust. In this twisted, animalistic society, a female's worth was tied entirely to her ability to produce strong cubs. I stood there shivering, terrified and degraded, reduced to nothing but a defective piece of meat. I braced myself for the inevitable, waiting for Caleb to realize my worthlessness and throw me out to be torn apart by the wild. Instead, a terrifying, suffocating aura exploded from his body, bringing the entire tribe to their knees. He swatted the fertile female away in disgust, scooped me into his arms, and turned his back on the camp. "She is my only mate," he declared, his ice-blue eyes promising violence to anyone who dared to look at me.

The sound of the front door opening was a nightmare come true-my younger sister, Emily, stood there, not alone, but holding a baby in a cheap pink blanket. "Surprise! Meet Leo. He' s the newest addition to the Miller family legacy," she announced, her voice sickeningly carefree, echoing the very words that had derailed my life in a past I' d already lived. My blood ran cold; this exact moment, this casual act of irresponsibility, had led directly to my death before. My parents, blinded by affection, embraced the child and Emily' s monstrous lie, turning their backs on my desperate pleas for reason. Consumed by a terrible sense of déjà vu, I remembered the blinding pain, the darkness that consumed me when Emily, armed with one of my own sculptures, ended my previous life for simply asking her to be responsible. But this time, I wouldn't be the martyr-this time, the cycle would break, and Emily would pay.'

A jagged spike of agony woke Kiana up in a filthy stone room. She had transmigrated into the body of a notorious, exiled matriarch in a brutal wasteland. Before she could even process her new reality, she saw a massive, bloodied man huddled in the corner, trembling in absolute terror. Foreign memories detonated in her brain: the original Kiana swinging a spiked whip, laughing as she tore his flesh open. He was her husband, and she was a monster who tortured her own consorts. The situation was a complete death trap. Another husband stormed in, throwing down a marriage contract and demanding to sever their ties, which would leave her to be eaten by mutated beasts. Outside, her third husband lay dying from a toxic wound while the rest of the tribe mocked her, eagerly waiting for her downfall. Scanning her own body, Kiana discovered her face was covered in ugly purple bruises. The original host hadn't just been naturally insane; she had been secretly fed a chronic poison by political enemies, destroying her beauty and driving her mad until she was exiled. As a survivor from a modern apocalypse, the sight of broken, enslaved men made her skin crawl. She refused to die in this savage wasteland as a pawn in someone else's twisted game. Kiana tossed the contract back to the furious man. "Give me three months. I will save him, and I swear I won't touch you." With her apocalyptic healing powers and a newly awakened Spatial System, she was going to rewrite the rules of this primitive world.