Sibeal Sallese

In my past life, I drugged the Imperium's most powerful Marshal, hoping to force a marriage to save my royal family from ruin. But the cheap pheromone inducer triggered his catastrophic beast-form rampage, and my stepsister intentionally led the press to our hotel room to catch me in the act. I became the empire's biggest joke overnight. The Marshal's family crushed what was left of my reputation, and my own mother, the Queen, immediately stripped me of my royal title to save her own skin. I was locked away in a mental institution for years, drowning in millions of debt, while my stepsister took my place and everything I owned. I died alone, ridiculed and completely abandoned. Until my dying breath, I couldn't understand why my own family set me up to take the fall, or why my desperate sacrifices only earned me their absolute disgust. Opening my eyes again, I was back in that hotel room, the beastly Marshal growling in the bathroom. This time, instead of crawling to him begging for love, I grabbed a military-grade suppressant and stabbed it into his neck. Then, I sat amidst the wreckage and calmly waited for my stepsister and the reporters to burst through the door. "I am not your prey, and I am not your cure." This time, I would sever my ties with the royal family myself and use my future knowledge to make them all pay.

I was the orphaned "parasite" of the Tyler family, taken in only to be abused for fifteen years after my parents died in a tragic car crash. To finally escape their control, I sold my first time to my ruthless billionaire boss, Ellsworth Mosley, for one million dollars. I thought it was a clean transaction. But the next morning, covered in severe bruises he left on me, I was handed a brutal contract with a fifty-million-dollar penalty. He didn't just buy my silence; he bought me. My nightmare only worsened when my adoptive family found out about my connection to the billionaire. Instead of disgust, they invited me to a hypocritical family dinner. "Talk to Mosley, convince him to invest in our failing business," my adoptive father demanded shamelessly. His son, who had tormented me for years, even grabbed my hand. "Do this, and we can be officially engaged. You'll finally be a real Tyler." They wanted me to whore myself out to save the family that had treated me like a stray dog. I shattered my wine glass, cursed them to go bankrupt, and walked out into the rain. As I reached the door, my phone vibrated with a terrifying summons from Ellsworth. But it was the panicked whisper behind me that froze my blood. "She knows about the brakes on her parents' car. If anyone finds out what we did, we'll go to prison." They murdered my parents. I gripped my phone, accepting the devil's call. Since I was already bound to a monster, I would use his power to drag them all to hell.

I lay paralyzed on stiff white sheets, a prisoner in my own skin, listening to the rain lash against the window like nails on a coffin. My father, Elmore Franco, didn't even look at my face as he checked his clipboard. He just listened to the steady, monotonous beep of the heart monitor-the only thing proving I was still alive. Without a hint of remorse, he pulled a pen from his pocket and signed the Do Not Resuscitate order. My stepmother, Ophelia, stepped out from behind him, wearing my favorite pearl necklace and smelling of cloying perfume. She leaned close to my ear to whisper the truth that turned my blood to ice. "It was the tea, darling. Just like your mother. A slow, tasteless poison." She chuckled as she revealed that my fiancé, Bryce, had a two-year-old son with my sister, Daniela. My inheritance had been funding their secret life for years, and now that the money was secure, I was an inconvenience they were finally scrubbing away. As my father yanked the power cord from the wall, the beeping died, and the darkness swallowed me whole. I was being murdered by my own flesh and blood, used as a bank account until I was no longer needed. I died in that sterile room, drowning in the realization that every person I ever loved was a monster who had been waiting for me to take my last breath. Then, I gasped. I woke up in a luxury hotel suite surrounded by silk sheets, five years in the past-the very morning of my wedding. Next to me lay Basile Delgado, the "Wolf of Wall Street" and my family's most dangerous enemy. In my first life, I ran from this room in a panic and lost everything. This time, I looked at the man who would eventually destroy my father's empire and decided to join him. "I'm not leaving, Basile. Marry me. Right now. Today."

For seven years, I drank the bitter tonic my fiancé, Alpha Adrian, gave me, believing it would cure my "wolfless" defect. I was wrong. It was poison. He wasn't trying to heal me; he was keeping me weak so he could replace me with my foster sister, Ariel. When the fire consumed the Alpha's Wing, I was trapped under a burning beam, my legs crushed. Adrian kicked down the door. I reached out to him, screaming for help. But he didn't look at me. He looked at Ariel, who was lying on the floor in a silk nightgown. He scooped her up, cradling her like she was the only thing that mattered. I begged him not to leave me. Instead of helping, he used his Alpha Command on me, his voice booming with supernatural weight. "Stay put! I'll be back for you!" It was a lie. He used his power to freeze me in the inferno and left me to burn alive. I survived, only to watch him publicly reject me for her the next day, with my own father's blessing. They called me a "genetic dead end." They thought I would crawl away and die in shame. I didn't. I limped up the mountain to the Neutral Lands to find the one man everyone fears-the exiled Alpha, Garth Morgan. "I have the Gamma Bloodline Scroll," I told the massive figure emerging from the shadows. "I don't want your gratitude," Garth growled, his eyes like storm clouds. "I'm not here for gratitude," I replied, staring him down. "I'm here to make a deal with the devil."

Chloe lay paralyzed on the cold hospital gurney, feeling the steady drain of her blood into an IV bag meant to save her stepsister. Then, through the cracked door, she heard the chilling voice of her fiancé, Arthur. He wasn't just draining her blood; he was waiting to cut out her heart. "It's an honor for her to trade her life for Kaitlyn's health," her adoptive father sneered. Arthur casually added that once Chloe was dead, her mother's trust fund and the family company shares would finally be theirs. To her absolute horror, they even bragged about how they had orchestrated her mother's death, laughing as they called it a perfect accident. The family she had trusted and the man she had loved for years had murdered her mother and were now butchering her for her fortune. A desperate, primal rage flooded her veins. She wanted to scream, to tear them apart, but the drugs kept her trapped in her dying body. With her last ounce of strength, she bit down hard on her own tongue and died. When she opened her eyes again, the smell of blood was gone. She was sitting in the lavish penthouse of New York's most ruthless billionaire, Julian Sterling. It was exactly five years ago, the day before her doomed wedding to Arthur. She had been reborn, and this time, she was going to drag them all to hell.

When my mafia boss husband claimed his empire was crumbling, I worked grueling cleaning jobs just to keep our rundown safehouse afloat. I had once taken a bullet for him, and I was willing to scrub toilets to save him. But hiding behind a hotel linen cart, I overheard him whispering to his mistress. "Make sure the wife keeps working," he murmured. "I want to see the precise measure of humiliation required to break her." His bankruptcy was a lie, a sadistic game to test my blind loyalty. He moved his mistress into our home and threw my belongings in the trash. When I tried to leave, he threatened to cut off my dying father's life support. His men shattered my ankle while he coddled his mistress, and he ignored my desperate calls as my father took his last breath alone. He even orchestrated a cruel prank that shocked me into miscarrying our child, leaving me bleeding in a bathtub while he walked away in disgust. I had given him three years of my youth and bled for him, only to realize the teenage boy who once promised me the world was dead. He was a monster who enjoyed tearing my soul apart just because he was bored. Waking up in the sterile hospital room, I felt no more tears, only the quiet relief of a severed chain. His mistress walked in, dropped her sweet smile, and bowed her head to me with absolute respect. "Boss, I have successfully sold all his routes," she said. I looked at my horrified husband standing at the door, and calmly handed his financial ledgers to the FBI.

In the previous life, I was framed for cheating in the college entrance examination and was banned from taking the exam for three years. My future was completely ruined. My twin sister, on the other hand, successfully got into the USC School of Cinematic Arts and became a top female star in the entertainment industry, while I worked in a factory screwing screws. After work, I was robbed and killed in the outskirts with no one to claim my body. After being reborn, I kept my sister's admission ticket. I reported the human traffickers' parents to the police.

For three years, I was the perfect trophy wife to billionaire Hunt Brennan, a silent fixture in his mahogany-rowed estate. I traded my medical career for a designer wardrobe and the hope that he might one day see me as more than a contract. But on our third anniversary, the dream died. Hunt came home reeking of scotch and threw grainy photos of a charity gala handshake in my face, calling me a gold-digging parasite. He didn't just accuse me; he broke me. He shattered glass against the wall, bruised my jaw with his grip, and dragged me upstairs to "punish" me, all while whispering his ex-girlfriend’s name in the dark. By morning, his mother had called to evict me to the guest cottage because his true love, Chasity, was back and needed the master suite. I left with nothing but a dusty suitcase and a secret: two pink lines on a pregnancy test. When my Uber broke down in a freezing downpour, Hunt drove past me in his Maybach, rolling down the window just to tell me to enjoy the rain. He left me stranded, never knowing he was leaving his own child behind. I didn't understand how a man could be so cruel to the woman who gave up everything for him. Did he really think I was just a doll he could discard the moment his "angel" returned? Four years later, the "submissive" Mrs. Brennan was dead. In her place stood Dr. Dianna Campbell, the top cardiothoracic surgeon in Europe. I stepped off the helicopter at Mount Sinai to save his sister’s life, and Hunt was there, desperate and broken. "Dianna?" He whispered my name like a prayer, but I didn't even blink. "Dr. Campbell. Refrain from touching the staff, Mr. Brennan." He thought he could shred our divorce papers to keep me trapped, but he was about to learn that the woman he abandoned in the rain didn't need his permission to exist—and she certainly didn't need him.

I woke up in a sterile hospital room with no memory of the lethal-looking man pacing outside the glass. My friend told me he was Dante Moretti, the Underboss of Chicago, and the fiancé I had supposedly worshipped for seven years. But the truth shattered me faster than the crash did. When our convoy was ambushed and the car caught fire, Dante didn't pull me out. He chose to save Valeria—the widow of a soldier he felt guilty about—leaving me to burn in the backseat. He called it a "tactical decision." I called it a death sentence. I thought losing my memory was a curse, but it was a gift. It stripped away the delusion of love. I saw a man who treated me like a useful piece of furniture. I saw a rival in Valeria who smirked while taking my job and my place. When she set a room on fire to frame me, Dante saved her again, leaving me to choke on the smoke. He even branded me a thief in front of the entire Commission to protect her lies. He thought I would always be there, the obedient statue waiting for his scraps. He was wrong. I fled to New York and walked straight into the arms of his sworn enemy, Enzo Falcone. A man who didn't just promise to protect me, but walked through fire to do it. Months later, when Dante finally realized the truth and crawled back to me in the rain, begging for a second chance, I looked him dead in the eye. "Forgetting you was the only peace I ever knew." I took Enzo’s hand, letting Dante see exactly what he had lost. "Remembering you just confirmed that you are a mistake I will never make again."

I sacrificed five years of my life for my comatose mother. When she finally woke up, she looked right through me. She embraced my estranged stepfather and a strange girl, calling her daughter. I was cast aside like trash, forced into the servant's quarters and left to eat from the garbage. My new "sister" even set her dog on me. As the dog tore at my arm, I locked eyes with my mother. She watched for a moment, then slowly pulled the curtains shut. In that moment, my hope shattered. I was nothing to her. A problem to be ignored. But as a social worker led me away to foster care, a black car screeched to a halt. My grandfather stumbled out, clutching a DNA report, his face ghost-white. His eyes, wide with shock, locked onto mine. "My God," he gasped. "Aisha... you're my son's real daughter. My granddaughter."

My mother was killed in a hit-and-run. My husband, Haywood, told me to drop the investigation. Then my father died because Haywood froze my assets, refusing to pay for his life-saving surgery. "My mother was murdered!" I screamed at him. "You want me to just... forget that?" He told me he knew who the driver was and threatened to ruin me if I didn't stop. He used his power to destroy my career, publicly shame me, and even had me thrown into a cellar full of venomous spiders, leaving me for dead. The final blow came when he forced me to lie on a live stream at my mother's grave, confessing to crimes I didn't commit. As I collapsed, he had his men scatter her ashes into the mud. I lost everything. My family, my dignity, my truth. They thought they had broken me. They were wrong. As I boarded a flight out of New York, I hit 'Go Live' on a global stream. "My name is Celina Alvarado," I began, my voice steady. "And I'm here to tell you everything."

For five years, I believed I had a perfect life. I was the chief scientist of a clean energy company I co-founded with my husband, the CEO. My only regret was the lab fire that killed my mentor, a death I felt responsible for. That perfect world shattered at a farmers' market. I saw my husband with a secret family-a woman and a little boy who called him "Daddy." Then the scene became a nightmare. My mentor, Abel, the man I'd mourned for five years, was standing there with them, alive and well. That night, I uncovered the full, five-year conspiracy. They faked his death to steal my next-generation technology. But their plan was even more monstrous. I found a recording of them plotting to have me declared mentally incompetent, using my "grief" as proof. A conservatorship would give them legal control of my mind and all my intellectual property. They weren't just stealing my work. They were planning to bury me alive. The next morning, I walked into the office of the city's most ruthless lawyer and laid the evidence on her desk. She asked me what I wanted. "I don't want their money," I told her. "I want to burn their empire to the ground."

The Grand Hyatt ballroom glittered with the success of SmithTech's IPO, a company I, Alex Chase, had secretly poured three years of my life into, building its unbreachable cybersecurity. As my wife, Sarah Smith, the celebrated CEO, took the stage, her eyes met mine, chillingly. Then, the hammer fell. "It' s also a night for new beginnings. For cutting away dead weight," she announced, her gaze fixed on me, the "live-in husband." Sarah's assistant, Mark Johnson, smugly presented my termination letter. My "courtesy position" in IT was revoked, my performance "lacking." The cameras, once focused on her triumph, now devoured my public humiliation. Sarah then ordered the destruction of my simple black laptop, calling it "junk," an "eyesore." I watched in silent horror as Mark gleefully smashed it to pieces, scattering the "true core of SmithTech' s security"-my life's work-across the marble floor. They didn't see the truth. They only saw a pathetic husband, discarded. How could they be so blind? This wasn't just a laptop; it was the master key, the quantum core that authenticated their entire system. Without it, SmithTech isn't just vulnerable; it's doomed. Their billions mean nothing. The system I built, the fortress they so carelessly destroyed, will now turn against them. As I walked out into the cool night, leaving behind the laughter and the wreckage, I smiled. My name online wasn't Alex Chase; it was Hades. And their public debut? It just became their public execution. The clock was ticking.

The last thing I remembered was the cold night air and the unbearable pain as my body hit the pavement. My husband, Mark, and his boss, Ms. Jenkins, had pushed me from the thirty-second-floor office window. "She's just a trophy wife," Mark had sneered. Ms. Jenkins had laughed, her arm wrapped around his waist. I had walked in on them, entwined on his office desk, the contract he so desperately needed forgotten on the floor. My heart shattered, my screams turned to accusations, and they, to protect their careers and their despicable affair, silenced me forever. My last thought was regret for loving him, for trusting him, for giving him my entire world. Then, a sudden jolt. My eyes flew open. I was standing in the quiet, carpeted hallway outside Mark' s office, the thermos of soup still warm in my hands. My phone read 9:00 PM. An hour earlier. I was back. Driven by a force I didn't understand, I crept closer to the door, peering through the narrow gap. And there they were, just as before, Mark and Ms. Jenkins, mouths locked in a passionate kiss. This time, there was no scream, just a cold, hard stone of rage in my chest. This was a second chance. I wouldn't waste it on tears.

The lights of the Tech Innovators\' Gala blinded me as my adoptive father, Mr. Davis, prepared to announce the next big thing for Davis Tech-my innovation. Suddenly, a hidden truth struck me: it wasn't our shared future, but my fiancé Liam\'s and my stepsister Bethany\'s. They didn\'t know that every "brilliant" idea Bethany claimed as her own was stolen directly from my mind. But deep down, a terrifying realization festered. It wasn' t just intellectual theft. After witnessing Bethany effortlessly "replicate" my most private thoughts and memories, I understood the insidious nature of the "mind-sync" tech she used to violate my very consciousness. Having been publicly humiliated, stripped of my dignity, and confined to a mental institution in a past life that ended in fire. But I didn\'t wake up in hell; I woke up here, with a second chance, and a burning desire for revenge.

My name is Elara Vance, and I've been dead for five years. I'm a ghost, trapped in the dilapidated lakeside cabin where I was murdered. For half a decade, I' ve been forced to witness the world remember me as 'the psycho foster kid' who died of an overdose, 'the monster,' 'the ungrateful charity case.' This is the false narrative my adoptive family, the Vances, spun to cover their tracks. Tonight, a famous YouTuber, Chad Logan, aka 'The Exterminator,' announces his next spectacle: a live exorcism-right here, in my cabin. He' s coming to 'confront the evil spirit of Elara Vance.' On his livestream, a river of hate scrolls by: 'Get that demon!' 'She was a monster!' My adoptive parents, who orchestrated my demise, watch with cold disgust. My 'perfect' sister, Seraphina, likely fakes a single tear for her followers, while my adoptive brother, Ethan-my one-time protector-is probably consumed by guilt, having believed their meticulously crafted lies and abandoned me in my darkest hour. The injustice burns, a powerless knot of nothing within me. They painted me as a delinquent, a charity case gone wrong, suppressing the horrifying truth of what they did. But buried beneath the floorboards of this rotten cabin lies my only hope: a journal and an SD card. They hold the undeniable truth. Tomorrow, the very man intent on solidifying my monstrous legacy might be the unwilling key to my salvation. I just need to find the strength to make him see.

I had one dream, one path: the U.S. Naval Academy. Every study session, every athletic drill, built towards Annapolis. It was my future, bright and clear. Then, my childhood friend, Ethan, handed me a drink, "Just something to help you relax, Maya." It was drugged. I failed the medical exam, my dream crumbling to dust. While he soared to Ivy League success, I ended up packing boxes in a dead-end job, my spirit as empty as the containers I filled. Years later, at our high school reunion, Ethan's girlfriend, Jessica Hayes, saw him glance at me. That night, she smiled triumphantly, "You don't fit into the script," before pushing me off a balcony to my death. As I fell, a chilling truth struck me: Jessica knew. She was reborn too. This wasn't merely fate; it was a sinister, orchestrated setup, spanning two lifetimes. The scale of their malice left me utterly enraged. I gasped awake, seventeen again, in my old bedroom. Three months before the SATs, before the Annapolis medical evaluations. A cold fire ignited within me. Rebirth. Another chance. Not just to reclaim my dream, but for revenge. This time, I knew their script, and I was going to rewrite it into their downfall.

Halloween night in the mortal world. The Rift, our fleeting portal between the Shadowlands and their realm, was closing fast. Spirits around me scrambled, desperate to return. But not Chloe. She stood at its edge, Ectoplasmic Flames – her rare, ghostly green power – roaring from her palms, forcing it open. She was buying time. For him. Liam. My gut twisted. Not with worry, but with a chilling sense of déjà vu. This was precisely how it all unfurled in my previous life, my destiny intertwined with her misguided devotion to him. A devotion that led directly to my destruction. I remembered every horrifying detail. Chloe, then my girlfriend, screaming accusations, blaming me for Liam's end, as she led the Enforcers straight to me. Right when I was on the brink of ascending to Arch-Spirit. The Enforcers didn't care for truth; they simply tore me apart. To be annihilated, merely a scapegoat for her idolized fool. The betrayal, the agony, burned as fresh as ever. Why did she always choose him? Why did I have to suffer for their toxic dance, not once, but twice? But now, I was back. Reborn to this exact crossroads, this critical choice. To everyone else, I was just a low-ranking Patroller. Good. Let them underestimate me. Because I understood one thing perfectly: I had a new plan. A painful, meticulous plan. This time, they would both pay.

Maya Cross woke up in a nightmare-trapped in the body of a sadistic villain who'd tortured five powerful beastmen into submission. Good news? She finally had the power to break their bonds and set them free. Bad news? They were stranded on a dying ship surrounded by Zerg swarms, with zero rescue coming. The first was Caleb, a snake beastman whose red eyes burned with pure hatred. Every time he looked at her, she saw the memory of chains and venom extraction. The second was Finn, an aquatic beastman whose scales she'd ripped off one by one. He could barely stand to be in the same room without his hands shaking with rage. The third was Sage, a griffin beastman she'd tormented so badly he barely went a day without fresh wounds. The fourth was Hunter, a lion beastman she'd mocked relentlessly, calling his beast form hideous and grotesque. The fifth was Jasper, a fox beastman whose face she'd scarred so badly he'd lost his consortium inheritance. "Protect me until I find my father," Maya told them, drawing her own blood, "and I'll give you what you need to break our bond." Caleb laughed bitterly. "Since when do you make deals instead of demands?" "Since we're all dead if we don't work together." But when survival depends on trust, can a torturer become a savior-or will her victims choose revenge over rescue?

Veronica Demoore was the girl everyone despised. Mocked for her weight, humiliated for her grades, and crushed beneath a brutal home life, she lived every day as the target of ridicule-until the day she couldn't bear it anymore. The world thought Veronica died that night. But when she opens her eyes again. someone else is looking through them. Savanna. A woman once raised in the shadows of a powerful organization. A genius trained to survive, manipulate, and dominate. In her previous life, she had wealth, intelligence, and strength. In this one, she has none of those things-only Veronica's broken body and shattered reputation. But weakness is temporary. Bullies who once laughed at Veronica soon discover the girl they tormented is no longer the same. Her mind is sharper. Her gaze is colder. And the quiet girl they used to push around now carries a dangerous confidence. As Savanna begins transforming Veronica's life piece by piece-losing weight, exposing enemies, and rising to the top of the school-the truth behind her rebirth slowly unfolds. Because Savanna didn't die by accident. And the people who killed her are still out there. This time, she won't be their victim. This time- she's coming for everything.

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?"

In my past life, I drugged the Imperium's most powerful Marshal, hoping to force a marriage to save my royal family from ruin. But the cheap pheromone inducer triggered his catastrophic beast-form rampage, and my stepsister intentionally led the press to our hotel room to catch me in the act. I became the empire's biggest joke overnight. The Marshal's family crushed what was left of my reputation, and my own mother, the Queen, immediately stripped me of my royal title to save her own skin. I was locked away in a mental institution for years, drowning in millions of debt, while my stepsister took my place and everything I owned. I died alone, ridiculed and completely abandoned. Until my dying breath, I couldn't understand why my own family set me up to take the fall, or why my desperate sacrifices only earned me their absolute disgust. Opening my eyes again, I was back in that hotel room, the beastly Marshal growling in the bathroom. This time, instead of crawling to him begging for love, I grabbed a military-grade suppressant and stabbed it into his neck. Then, I sat amidst the wreckage and calmly waited for my stepsister and the reporters to burst through the door. "I am not your prey, and I am not your cure." This time, I would sever my ties with the royal family myself and use my future knowledge to make them all pay.

Caryn lay trapped beneath concrete slabs in the apocalyptic ruins, a steel rebar pinning her down, the pressure unbearable. 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 made the rubble groan and shift, 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 meet her end 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 strip Ford and his family of everything before the apocalypse even began.

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.

The sensation of falling wasn't like flying; it was heavy, violent, and smelled of burning flesh. Above us, on the crumbling balcony of the Sears manor, Duke Cato Sears turned his back, shielding his cousin Bianca from the smoke as he walked away, leaving my sister Blossom and me to drop into the abyss. As the darkness slammed shut like an iron door, I realized my entire life had been a cruel script written by the people I called family. In my first life, I was the sacrificial lamb of the Dawson manor, sold to a man who eventually watched me die without blinking. My sister Blossom had pushed me into Cato's arms to avoid his rumors, only to laugh when the fire finally consumed us both. My father had measured my value like a piece of livestock, and my step-grandmother didn't even acknowledge my existence while I was being led to the slaughter. I died in that fire, feeling the heat scorch my skin and the weight of a hatred so potent it tasted like bile. I spent twenty years being the weak, manipulated shadow of a girl, only to end up as nothing more than a phantom scorch mark on a "hero's" estate. I couldn't understand why my own blood treated my life like a game they could discard. The injustice of it all burned hotter than the flames that took my last breath. Then, I sat up, sucking in air that tasted of lavender and air conditioning, not smoke. I was back in my bedroom, three days before the engagement ball that ruined my life. Blossom stood at the door, her "sweet" mask slipping as she tried to manipulate me into the Duke's path again. She thought she was the only one who had come back, but she didn't realize that this time, I was going to let her have exactly what she wanted: the Duke, the bankruptcy, and the living hell that awaited her in that house.

Agent Alivia Sanford opened her eyes to the suffocating stench of wild animal musk and raw sex. She hadn't just transmigrated into a savage beastman world; she had woken up in the body of a 300-pound, diseased, and universally despised woman. Worse, the original owner had just drugged the tribe's strongest warrior, trying to force a mating. Now, the warrior pinned her to the cave floor with murderous fury. "You think you can trap me, you disgusting pig?" he snarled, ready to rip her throat out. After kneeing him and escaping, a "Super Charm AI" bound to her mind demanded she conquer her five designated mates to survive. But these men treated her like a walking plague. They mocked her bloated face, threw bloody raw meat into the mud for her to eat, and publicly announced they would starve her to death. Even her own family looked at her with utter disgust. In her past life, she was a legendary survivor who could have crushed these arrogant men with her bare hands. Now, she was trapped in a weak shell, threatened with soul erasure by a system if she didn't grovel for their affection. Why should she beg for love from beasts who wanted her dead? Looking at the five "-100" hostility scores on her system panel, Alivia coldly drew a mental cross over each of their faces. Enduring agonizing pain, she forced her bio-manipulation ability to violently purge the toxins from her fat body. She wasn't going to play their twisted game; she was going to find her own resources and make them pay.

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.

Emberly, an esteemed scientist of the Imperial Federation, took her own life after completing important research. She was reborn, and just like in her first life, she was born into a wealthy family. She could’ve lived a carefree and prosperous life. However, the babies got mixed up in the hospital and she was taken home by another family from the countryside. Her foster parents later found out the truth and brought her to her real family, but they didn’t like her. Her evil adopted sister even loathed her. She was framed and ultimately, she died in prison. But in her next life, she refused to stay a coward and swore she would take revenge on all who wronged her. She would only care about those who were truly good to her and turn a blind eye to her heartless family. In one life, she had once experienced darkness and been trampled upon like an ant. In another, she had stood on top of the world. This time, she only wished to live for herself. As if a switch had gone on inside of her, she suddenly became the best at everything she put her mind to. He won the math contest, topped the college entrance exams, and solved an age old question... Later, she garnered countless scientific research achievements. People who had once slandered her and looked down on her cried bitterly and begged her for a patent authorization. She just sneered at them. No way! This was a world without faith, but the world put their faith in her. Austin, the heir to a powerful aristocratic family in the imperial capital, was cold-hearted and decisive. He scared anyone who laid eyes on him. Unbeknownst to everyone, he doted on one woman: Emberly. Nobody knew that his desire for her grew stronger with every passing day. She brought light to his originally dull and gloomy life.