
Bound To The Exiled S-Class Monster
Halie woke up to a sharp pain and a terrifying reality. She was in a new body, her face covered in a hideous web of scars, and her spiritual power reduced to a pathetic D-Class.
Before she could even process the memories of being framed, her bedroom doors were violently kicked open.
Her sister Seraphina sauntered in with a venomous sneer, followed closely by Halie's S-Class fiancé, Jett.
"Look at the disgrace of the Avila family. What a waste," Seraphina mocked, throwing a mirror at her bed.
"I can't be tied to a cripple. As an S-Class, I have to break our engagement," Jett added, his gaze full of disgust.
The nightmare didn't stop there. Her father called, screaming about how she had shamed the family name. He officially stripped her of her inheritance, froze all her accounts, and exiled her to the decaying Southern District to rot.
To make matters worse, a cold, mechanical voice suddenly echoed in her skull, warning her of an impending genetic collapse. Without an immediate energy infusion, she would face total organ failure in thirty days.
A ruined face, a treacherous family, a world that wanted her dead, and a literal death clock ticking in her brain. The original owner had died in absolute despair, a tragic victim of sheer cruelty.
But if they thought she would just sit there and die, they were severely mistaken.
Armed with a mysterious system and her brilliant scientist mind from her past life, Halie packed her bags. She chose the craziest survival quest: head to the slums, find the exiled, sterile S-Class "madman" Coleman, and cure him to harvest his life energy. It was time to start her counterattack.
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Chapter 2
Halie took a deep breath, forcing her racing heart to slow. She tentatively reached out, her fingers passing straight through the blue holographic screen. It was an illusion of light, but the information it presented was terrifyingly real.
The Kismet System's mechanical voice echoed in her mind, a cold recitation of her current state.
"Subject: Halie Avila. Spiritual Power: D-Class. Physical Condition: Severe facial disfigurement, vital signs weak."
A red warning box flashed on the screen. "Alert: Genetic collapse in progress. Without immediate energy infusion for repair, subject will face organ failure within thirty days."
Halie clenched her jaw. The death clock didn't scare her. It focused her. "How do I get energy?" she asked the air, her voice steady.
The system's interface shifted, presenting three options for a main quest line. The first two were assassination missions, each with a mortality rate hovering over ninety percent.
Her eyes locked onto the third option, the one glowing with a soft, golden light: Save the sterile males of the galaxy. Obtain life energy by forming bonds.
Her rational mind, the mind of a top scientist from her past life, knew that hunting beasts with this broken body was suicide. She didn't hesitate. Her finger pressed the third option.
A pleasant chime sounded, and the screen erupted in a shower of golden fireworks. "Newbie gift package has been distributed."
A searing heat bloomed on her right wrist. She looked down to see a small, black tattoo of a Möbius strip materializing on her skin.
Acting on instinct, she focused her mind on the tattoo. The space in front of her warped, and she was sucked into a vortex of light.
She found herself standing in a pristine, white space. Her breath hitched. It was her lab. The state-of-the-art biomedical laboratory she had used back on her doomed planet, Blue Star. Every piece of equipment was exactly where it should be.
She rushed to a familiar sterile workstation, her fingers tracing the cool metal surface. A profound sense of security washed over her, a feeling she hadn't realized she'd been missing.
The lab's central computer lit up, informing her that her current access level was low. She could only use basic purification equipment and the storage space.
Halie wasn't discouraged. She knew that even with basic tools, her knowledge from a past life was enough to cause a storm in this world.
With a thought, she exited the space, returning to her trashed bedroom. The pain in her body seemed to have lessened, dulled by the surge of adrenaline and hope.
The system screen popped up again. "Please draw your first target." A deck of blurred photo cards spread across the display.
Halie randomly tapped the one on the far edge. The card flipped over, revealing the face of a man. He was hauntingly beautiful, with a chiseled jaw and silver hair, but his skin was unnaturally pale, and his eyes held a chilling emptiness.
"Target Information," the system intoned. "Coleman. S-Class male. Completely sterile due to a genetic defect. Exiled by his family to the Southern District."
Halie's memory banks churned. She realized with a jolt of dread that this Coleman was someone the original Halie had relentlessly bullied during their academy days, all to show off her own status.
She rubbed her temples, groaning in frustration. The original owner wasn't just a waste; she was an idiot who made enemies everywhere. This was a hell-difficulty start.
"Alert," the system chimed in. "Target's spiritual power is in a state of extreme instability, on the verge of a violent collapse. Host must proceed to pacify him within twelve hours, or the mission will fail and the host's genetic collapse will accelerate."
Halie opened her personal terminal, intending to check her assets and buy a ticket to the Southern District.
A glaring red notification filled the screen. All her primary accounts had been frozen by her family. Her remaining balance was a pathetic few hundred star coins.
A cold laugh escaped her. Seraphina had worked fast. The cold-blooded efficiency of the Avila family was on full display.
She turned and marched into the walk-in closet, rummaging through the original Halie's collection of luxury handbags and unopened, expensive jewelry.
Halie stuffed the gaudy, impractical items into a nondescript black duffel bag. They were her ticket to survival. She would sell them on the black market.
While clearing out a drawer, her fingers brushed against a formal-looking document. It was a military marriage matching notice, assigned by the Empire's central AI.
The groom's name was Erwin, a Major General in the military. But below his name, a stark red stamp declared that he had already filed a unilateral request for a forced dissolution of the match.
Halie stared at the arrogant red ink. Her first instinct was to tear the useless paper to shreds, but a cold, calculating light gleamed in her eyes.
"A unilateral dissolution without my signature? How convenient for you, General," she muttered, carefully folding the document and slipping it into her pocket.
It might be a useless match now, but in the political games of the capital, even a broken contract could be weaponized later. Right now, however, she had only one immediate priority: get money, get to the Southern District, and find Coleman to save her own life.
She changed into a set of practical black cargo pants and a hoodie, pulling the hood up to hide her scarred face. Hefting the heavy duffel bag, she walked out of the room without a backward glance.
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8.6
I was the youngest Paladin in history, the absolute pride of the Azure Blade.
But after a disastrous mission in the snow, I was falsely accused of slaughtering my own squad.
Grand Master Bernardo Rowe didn't just exile me; he surgically severed my connection to the magic Aether, turning me into a crippled mortal.
Desperate to survive, I tried to climb the Holy Stairs to reclaim my legendary sword, "Rebellion."
Instead of answering my call, my own blade shrieked in absolute rejection and blasted me down the thousand stone steps.
My bones snapped like dry twigs, and I was left in a pool of my own blood.
The pilgrims laughed at me. The guards declared me a lost cause and left me to rot in the dirt.
I should have died there, betrayed by the Order and the holy magic I once served.
But a silent, massive laborer named Cato Sims dragged my mangled body into the shadows.
He healed my shattered skeleton in mere days with impossible skill, yet he allowed lowly servants to spit on him and beat him just to keep my presence hidden.
I didn't understand why my holy sword had abandoned me, and I understood even less why this stranger was protecting a condemned criminal.
When I finally snapped and demanded to know his price for saving my life, he didn't ask for money or my body.
"The mountain does not forget its debts. I am reclaiming what was taken from it."
Staring into his unyielding eyes, I realized my exile wasn't the end, but the beginning of a terrifying truth.

9.3
Born into privilege, Eleanor never imagined her life could shatter in a single night. Then her father disappeared with his mistress, her mother fell from a building and slipped into a coma, and everything she once owned turned to dust.
Determined not to ruin Jonathan's future with her family's disgrace, she ended their relationship and became the bride of a man trapped in a vegetative state.
She believed that was the last time their paths would cross. But two years later, Jonathan pinned her in the dark and whispered, "Long time no see, my sister-in-law."

7.3
Naelis Haldrith is many things, daughter to the South's most strategic Alpha, an Omega with Alpha genes, and an unapologetic misfit. During summer break, she decides to journey to Frostpine and spend her heat cycle with her boyfriend, the golden pea of the Thalric pod.
But during a collared moment, a secret of his is revealed, and Naelis realizes that their relationship was more complex than it seemed. Choosing to return to her pack, she steps outside under a storm, and it is at that moment she crosses paths with a man she had never seen before.
Zoran Vyer Thalric. Uncle to her ex. Member of the Elder's Council. The otherworldly primordial with red-ringed eyes and a wolf barely chained beneath his skin. Desire sparks instantly, and her sights are immediately set on him, but... he is a devotee of the Citadel, celibate, untouched, and unwilling to be the calm to her fury.
She is fire, wild and untamed. He is steel, honed and contained. And for the first time, Naelis is the hunter after her prey, and the line of resistance slowly blurs as he finds his years of enforced self-control and suppression unraveling at the tint of her touches.
And with a maniac on their radar, this summer break will demand blood, sacrifice, and passion that howls to the moon.

8.3
EDEN
8.3
Elianila, an AI Architect, is part of an elite team tasked with designing a global system meant to prevent threats, manage disasters, and distribute resources to vulnerable regions. After five years of tireless work with her colleagues, she uncovers disturbing anomalies, code-named, X-variables, that flag individuals according to criteria she never programmed.
As Elianila digs deeper to understand what the X-variables measure and where their origin, she finds herself in direct conflict with the authorities. Soon, the System marks her and her daughter as threats - targets to be eliminated.
With a small band of colleagues and dissidents, Elianila goes on the run, hiding in places beyond the Systems reach. As they evade surveillance, they race against time to warn others, expose the truth, and fight back against the omnipresent authority of the System.

7.4
Clara Davis was trained to seduce, deceive, and destroy.
Her mission is simple: infiltrate billionaire Jeffery Rothwell's life, gain his trust, and help seize his empire in exchange for the freedom she has always craved.
But the deeper she slips into his dangerous world, the more the lines between mission and desire begin to blur. Falling for him was never part of the plan and neither was discovering that the man she was sent to manipulate may not be the real Jeffery at all.
Now trapped in a deadly web of obsession, power, and hidden identities. Clara is caught between the organization that owns her, the monster who remade her, and a love that has turned into vengeance. Clara must survive a man who sees everything, controls everything, and may be far more dangerous than the organization that created her.
Because in this game of seduction and revenge, love might be the deadliest trap of all.

9.8
I was an arrogant, canceled reality TV star, trying to salvage my ruined reputation on a live broadcast.
But after I lost my temper and assaulted a cameraman, my furious grandfather chased me into our family's forbidden gallery, where I accidentally crashed into an ancient, sealed portrait.
The canvas shattered, and a terrifying woman with glowing golden eyes stepped out of the wall.
She was Cecil, the First Matriarch of the Marshall family. She caught a lightning bolt with her bare hands and crushed me to my knees with an invisible, suffocating pressure.
My grandfather, instead of saving me, groveled on the floor and abandoned me to her mercy.
"You are the disgrace that will end this family."
She hijacked my entire life, forcing me to act as her submissive baggage handler on my own survival reality show, broadcasting my humiliation to millions.
I didn't understand why this ancient monster was tormenting me. Why did she strip away my pride, treat me like a broken tool, and force me to endure the mockery of the very ex-girlfriend who had ruined my life?
But when those same cast members tried to corner me in the dark woods, Cecil stepped in front of me, her eyes locking onto the silver ring of the man mocking me.
"To catch the wolf, one must sometimes walk with the sheep."
That was when I realized she wasn't here to destroy me—she was here to hunt the parasites who had been secretly siphoning away my life force.