EngMan
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EngMan's Books and Stories
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After Rebirth, The Strongest Beasts Are Obsessed With Me
Alibi 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. Reborn To Swap Husbands With My Sister
Culprit 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. My Wedding, My Killer, His Betrayal
Gavin I don't remember how I got here.
One moment, a crushing weight, the roar of a furious crowd, a sharp, final pain. The next, nothing.
Then, a flicker. A cold, sharp light that formed a heavy, cream-colored cardstock. Gold letters shimmered: You are cordially invited to the wedding of Ethan Davis and Mia Thompson.
Ethan Davis. My uncle. The man who raised me, mentored me, then destroyed me.
Mia Thompson. That' s my name.
The invitation dissolved. I landed, an unseen observer, in a sun-drenched garden.
At the altar, under a floral arch, stood Ethan.
Then the music swelled. The bride walked down the aisle.
The woman in the white dress was me.
She had my face, my dark hair, even the tiny mole above my lip. But her smile was too sharp, her gaze too possessive. It was Chloe Miller.
The scene ripped away. I was hurled back to the day my life ended.
On a stage, my masterpiece, "Nexus," projected behind me.
"This is a lie!" Chloe' s voice sliced through the applause. "She stole it! Nexus is my work!"
The crowd turned savage. Cameras flashed. I sought Ethan, the one person who knew the truth.
"Ethan, tell them," I begged, my voice a pathetic whisper. "Tell them the truth."
He looked at me. Guilt, then cold, calculated resolve.
He stepped to the microphone. "I am deeply disappointed. Our company is built on integrity. We cannot and will not tolerate intellectual theft."
My death sentence.
The world exploded. "Thief!" "Fraud!" Hands grabbed, tearing at my clothes. Rage-contorted faces.
I fell. The last thing I saw was Ethan turning his back, his arm around Chloe, as the mob swallowed me whole.
Now, a ghost at my own wedding. My uncle was marrying my murderer.
The invitation said he was marrying me.
The irony was a bitter taste. They wouldn't even let me rest. They' d stolen my work, my reputation, my life. Now, my very face.
But a new feeling solidified within my spectral form.
Rage.
They would not get their happy ending. I would burn their perfect world to the ground. The Billionaire's Second Chance: A Heart He Couldn't Keep
Star Radovsky I woke up, flung ten years into the past, carrying the crushing weight of a previous life I desperately needed to undo. My last memories were of Ava's lifeless face in a casket, her death the culmination of my twisted, misguided vengeance.
I had systematically tortured her, believing she embodied all my pain, only to discover she was the anonymous donor who' d literally given her heart to save my life. That unbearable truth, revealed too late, plunged me into an abyss of guilt, leading to a brutal, self-sacrificial atonement.
Now, miraculously reborn, I was determined to rewrite history, save my family, and fiercely protect Ava from the torment I once inflicted. I vowed to earn her love, to prove I was worthy of the sacrifice I brutally repaid.
But as I found her in this new timeline, thriving and happy, she was engaged to another man and completely indifferent to me. Her calm rejection cut deeper than any physical pain, a stark reminder of the love I had irredeemably destroyed.
Can I ever truly amend the monstrous past, or am I forever condemned to watch her happiness from afar, haunted by the memory of the woman I needlessly lost? The 21st Birthday Loop
Zhi Yao For sixteen years, I was a phantom in the Miller house, my entire existence centered on raising Caleb.
My destiny was sealed: on his 21st birthday, I was to become his wife, a debt my family couldn't pay.
In my first agonizing life, that wedding day led to a decade of imprisonment in their dark basement, then a horrific sale to the depraved Scrap Yard Joe, who brutally murdered me and my two young daughters.
But then, a miracle: I jolted awake, it was Caleb' s 21st birthday party again. I was back.
This time, I vowed to escape, coldly telling Caleb the "deal was off." His fury, fueled by his new girlfriend Chloe, erupted. They dragged me to their root cellar, where Chloe actively tried to crush me with cinder blocks.
Escaping a terrifying encounter with Scrap Yard Joe, Chloe's eerie accomplice from my past, I returned to the party only to be publicly framed.
A panicked confrontation led to the tragic, accidental death of Caleb' s mother-a death later revealed to be orchestrated by Chloe' s slow poison. I was beaten, battered, and finally, locked in the basement again as Chloe set it on fire, intending to burn me alive.
Lying amidst the flames, every fiber of my being screamed. Why had my attempt at freedom only resulted in such a brutal, fiery trap? Was this wretched family, and the ghosts of my past, truly inescapable?
Yet, fate had a cruel twist. I miraculously survived, forcing Caleb to believe me dead, consumed by guilt.
He began a meticulous, horrifying revenge on Chloe, mirroring the torment I endured.
Then, in the climax of his depravity, just as he raised a hunting knife over Chloe' s pregnant belly, a scarred, living ghost walked into the room: Me. And his world shattered. The Betrayed Heiress's Comeback
Zhi Yao I woke up with a gasp on the day of my debutante ball, the most anticipated event of the Texas social season.
My eyes snapped open to the familiar silk canopy, but a strange, phantom pain still clung to my last breath.
My custom-designed gown, perfected over months with the couturier, was gone from its stand.
This void, this seemingly small act, brought a cold dread, sharp and entirely too familiar.
Because in my previous life, this "missing" dress was the very first tiny crack, the prelude to a cascade of betrayals.
I remembered Savy' s brazen appearance, her stolen spotlight, her smug face, Brent' s weak compliance, Grayson' s cruel dismissal.
Their collective treachery had led to my father' s "accidental" death, my shocking disinheritance, a hellish rehabilitation facility, and my own lonely, mysterious end.
They thought they had won; they thought they had erased me for good.
The sheer, agonizing injustice of their victory, the vivid memories of my suffering, burned hotter than any fire.
How could I have let them destroy my family, my legacy, my very self, without a fight?
But they didn't know I was back.
I had reawakened on this pivotal morning, carrying every single agonizing memory of their deceit and my demise.
This time, there would be no panic, no helplessness, only a chilling, absolute resolve to reverse my tragic fate.
I was Aurora Sterling, and I was taking my life back, one strategic move at a time. My Fiancé, My Murderer
Eydie Pfefferle The Greyhound bus hummed, a low rumble promising a new life at the Boeing apprenticeship program, far from this dead-end town.
My fiancé, Jake, stood blocking the bus depot doorway, radiating control, scanning the street for Brittany Smith.
But this wasn't the first time I'd lived this moment; in my last life, Jake’s hands had closed around my throat on our wedding night, his eyes blazing, blaming me for Brittany's tragic end.
Now, I was back at the same bus stop, and he was once again holding everyone’s acceptance letters and bus tickets hostage, waiting for her, wielding a Zippo as a silent threat.
He reveled in his power, convinced his County Commissioner father’s influence was an impenetrable shield, openly mocking our desperate hope to escape this town.
The chilling truth hit me like a physical blow: Jake was reborn too, seemingly to ensure Brittany’s success this time, but embodying a far more calculated cruelty.
Why was fate so twisted, bringing me back to this precise, suffocating moment of manipulation, when the memory of my horrific death still burned?
This time, I let my hand fall from his arm, a silent promise to myself that my feigned compliance was a trap he’d never see coming.
Because this time, I was playing a different game, armed with the precise knowledge to expose his family’s corruption and Brittany’s lies, ensuring their carefully constructed dreams would spectacularly collapse. Reborn: Femme Fatale First Daughter
Lian Shuang Mo Xuetong has lost everything. Her mother, her child, even her servants, have been killed. Betrayed, disfigured, and alone, she dies trying to destroy the people who deceived her… …and wakes up as a child again. Given a second chance, she vows to make things different. This time she will not be a naïve child. This time she is beautiful, cold, and willing to do whatever it takes to get revenge. But her plans are disrupted when she uncovers a thirty year old conspiracy that changes everything. Will she still be able to change her fate? And even if she does, will her new fate be any better, or will her hunger for revenge destroy her? Watching My Family Burn
Shi Liu I woke up floating.
Not in a dream, but tethered to a nightmare.
My body lay cold on the bed, while my son, Leo, whispered, "Papa won't wake up."
My wife, Eleanor, stood by the door, her face a mask of ice. I was a ghost, able to watch, but powerless to intervene.
Then Julian Croft appeared, oozing charm and false sympathy. The man who'd received my liver, the root of my demise.
Eleanor dismissed Leo's desperate pleas, accusing *me* of manipulation, of using our son. She chose Julian, leaving Leo behind, a small, trembling figure in our empty home.
What followed was agony. I watched my seven-year-old journey miles to her office, only to be publicly humiliated, framed by Julian, and then viciously beaten.
Eleanor, blind to the truth, abandoned him again, leaving him bruised and alone in a dark alley.
My spirit seethed, consumed by a cold, useless rage. How could she believe such lies? How could she discard her own child so easily?
The injustice was unbearable. I was murdered, my son brutalized, and the woman I loved stood by my killer. I longed to warn her, to protect Leo, but I was just air. A silent scream.
Then Julian delivered the final blow: my little boy was tossed into the freezing Hudson River.
But as Leo's small form sank into the darkness, a desperate hope ignited. A stranger, an angel, pulled him from the depths.
My death was real, my son's suffering unbearable. And now, the true battle for justice, and for Leo's future, was about to begin.