From Rejected Defect To Supreme Queen
Angel was slammed onto the freezing stone slabs of the central square, surrounded by the deafening, mocking laughter of her clan.
Her own sister, Jasmine, stood over her with a look of pure malice, loudly and falsely accusing Angel of sneaking into the Chief's tent to seduce him.
Then, Al Stein, the man who had sworn to be her mate, stepped out of the crowd with a twisted face of disgust.
"You're a genetic reject. You can't give me children. You're useless."
He threw their bone mate ring hard at her face, cutting her cheek, as the crowd roared for her blood.
Without a trial, the High Oracle stripped her of her citizenship and sentenced her to eternal exile in the deadly wasteland.
To make her punishment a complete joke, the guards dragged out a comatose, dying outcast named Kain, slicing Angel's finger to force a mate bond between the two defects.
They were tossed out into the raging blizzard like discarded corpses, the heavy steel gates slamming shut behind them, cutting off all light and warmth.
Angel crawled through the snow, her vision blurring from extreme starvation and the biting wind, suffocating under the weight of their lies.
Why did her own blood frame her? Why did her mate throw her away to die in the ice?
Just as the freezing shadow of death wrapped around her, a sharp, mechanical voice exploded in her mind.
[Genetic Evolution Codex activated. Host Status: Legendary Kitsune Prime.]
The despair evaporated from her chest, replaced by a burning vow to survive and make every single one of them pay.
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Chapter 2
Angel woke up shivering. The sky outside the cave was already dark, and the wind was howling, blowing snow in through the entrance. The temperature inside was dropping fast.
She turned her head immediately to look at Kain. His breathing was so shallow it was almost non-existent. A thin layer of frost had formed on his pale skin.
She quickly pulled up the system panel. [Skill Unlocked: Basic Fox-Fire (Tier 1). Generates heat.]
She didn't waste a second. She scrambled over to Kain and pressed her hands flat against his icy chest. She closed her eyes, focusing all her willpower on that tiny spark of warmth inside her.
A faint red glow flickered in her palms. The heat struggled to penetrate Kain's frozen skin, fighting to wake his dormant cells. The energy drain was immense. Sweat broke out on Angel's nose, and black spots danced before her eyes. Her body was on the verge of collapse.
Just as she felt she couldn't hold on any longer, Kain's eyelashes twitched. His icy vertical pupils snapped open, glowing with a feral, cold light.
Before Angel could react, his hand shot up and wrapped around her throat. With terrifying strength, he flipped her over, pinning her to the ground. The air was cut off instantly.
Angel clawed at his hand, her legs kicking weakly. "I'm... saving... you..." she gasped out.
The system screamed in her mind: [Warning! Consort hostility level spiking!]
Kain stared down at her face, his cold eyes flickering with a moment of confusion as he recognized her—the other reject. He let go of her neck and scrambled back to the corner of the cave, watching her with wary, icy eyes. A low hissing sound rumbled in his throat.
Angel coughed violently, rubbing her bruised neck. She glared at him, her voice raspy. "If it wasn't for me, you'd be a popsicle right now."
As if on cue, Kain's stomach let out a loud, rumbling growl. The extreme hunger made his already pale face look even more ghastly.
[System Prompt: Consort requires high-calorie food to resist hibernation instinct. Failure to feed will result in genetic depletion.]
Angel looked him dead in the eye. "I'll make you a deal," she said, her voice steady despite her weakness. "You go out there and hunt. Bring back food. And I'll provide the warmth you need to survive."
Kain stared at her thin body, his jaw clenching. He remembered the warmth she had poured into him earlier, but years of being treated as a monster had forged an iron wall of distrust around his heart. "I don't need anyone's charity," he sneered, his pride refusing to let him rely on another exile. He turned away, preparing to leave on his own.
Angel narrowed her eyes. She raised her hand and unleashed the Fox-Fire she had just recovered. A bright, crackling ball of red flame danced in her palm, instantly illuminating the dark cave with its warm, inviting glow. "It's not charity. It's survival," she stated flatly.
Kain froze. He stared at the flame, feeling the pure heat radiating from it. His cold pupils constricted into thin slits. He stood there, shivering, his body craving that warmth more than anything.
He weighed his options for a long second. Then, without a word, he turned and dashed out into the blizzard, disappearing into the whiteout.
Angel slumped against the wall, extinguishing the fire. The cold rushed back in immediately. She forced herself to her feet and searched the cave. In a corner buried under old snow, she discovered a crude bone knife, perhaps left by some past exile. She clutched it close and huddled against the wall, praying to whatever god was listening that the cold-blooded beast wouldn't die out there.
Two hours passed. The storm only grew worse. Angel had almost given up hope, convinced he had abandoned her.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps crunched in the snow outside. Kain staggered into the cave, covered in blood. He was dragging the massive carcass of a snow bear behind him.
He dropped the bear in front of Angel and then collapsed to one knee, gasping for breath. Deep, bone-deep gashes covered his body, bleeding profusely.
Angel was shocked by his terrifying combat power. She rushed over, placing her hands on him to channel the Fox-Fire, warming him up while she quickly grabbed the bone knife and sliced off the most tender cuts of bear meat.
Kain greedily absorbed the heat from her Fox-Fire, watching her skillfully roast the meat over the flame. A complex emotion flickered in his icy eyes.
The smell of roasted meat filled the cave. They devoured the food ravenously, their strength finally returning.
After the meal, Angel looked at Kain, who was staring blankly into the fire. She watched the way his muscles remained tense, the subtle tremors beneath his pale skin that told her the cold was still fighting him from the inside. She knew he was hiding something much deeper than just a low viability index. She decided to play her trump card.
"I can feel it, you know," she said calmly. "There is a terrifying power suppressed inside you. It's tearing you apart, keeping you trapped as a 'Cold-Blood'."
Kain's head snapped toward her, his gaze oppressive. "Don't joke about things you don't understand," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.
Angel didn't back down. "I'm not joking. I can help you break those chains," she said, her eyes locked on his. "But I can't do it from a distance. The only way to reach that deep into your genetic structure is through a Consort-Pact. Swear to be my exclusive hunter. Bond with me. My genes will act as the catalyst yours desperately need. I'll give you the power you were meant to have."
The system in her mind went crazy, flashing alerts: [Legacy DNA highly compatible! Deep bond required to unlock Tier 2 permissions! Complete the bond now!]
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9.1
Waking up with a cold, scaly hand wrapped around my throat wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was realizing I'd transmigrated into the body of Terra Mason—the most despised woman in the entire Enclave. She drugged high-level beast-men and forced them into life-binding bio-contracts. She locked an aquatic warrior in a dry basement until his organs failed. She treated the most lethal males in the city like broken toys.
Zev, the Level 6 serpent who's currently choking me, would rather blow up his own heart than spend another day as my slave. His affection metric? Negative ninety. His trust? Zero.
Then my system activates: the Kore AI. It gives me exactly 500 credits, a medical nano-gel, and a recipe for neutralizing the radioactive poison in mutant meat. Real food. In this world, that's worth more than gold.
I save Rhys, the dying aquatic male everyone left for dead. I season a slab of purple mutant steak until Sam, a battle-scarred grizzly shifter, groans at the taste—and his trust points finally tick above zero. When my backstabbing ex-best friend tries to steal my males and destroy me, I don't scream or throw a tantrum like the old Terra. I dismantle her with the truth.
But earning their trust means more than grilling meat. A scorpion swarm ambushes us at midnight. Sam throws himself between me and a stinger the size of my arm. As he stands over the corpse, fur receding from his claws, he stares at me and whispers, "You were testing me."
Yes. I was. Because in this world, the weak don't survive. And I refuse to be weak again.
Four beast-men. Four contracts. One system. And a whole lot of steak. Let this dystopian wasteland know—I'm not the monster they remember. I'm worse. I'm the one who's going to feed them until they'd kill for me.
9.3
I woke up in a freezing, desolate wasteland, my body weak and covered in sores. A mechanical voice in my head informed me that I was a defective rabbit-mutant, and if I didn't conceive within twenty-four hours, I would die permanently.
The terror was suffocating, but the system left me no choice. To survive the brutal cold and the decay of my own heartbeat, I had to force a pregnancy with a stranger.
I stumbled through the snow, my fingers turning blue, until I found a massive, wounded Arctic Fox-mutant in a dark cave. He was a Tier-9 predator, dying and radiating the exact heat I needed to stay alive. I threw away my dignity, crawling into his fur to merge our energies, desperate to trigger the life-reset protocol before my time ran out.
I felt like a monster, forcing myself onto a man who didn't even know I existed, just to keep my own heart beating. How could I ever face him if he woke up? Why did I have to be the one to pay the price for this twisted, mechanical ultimatum?
The fusion was a success, but when I woke up the next morning, the apex predator had me pinned under his massive claws, his fangs inches from my throat. I didn't beg for mercy. I stared into his feral, ice-blue eyes and made a deal that would change everything: I would be his anchor, and he would be my protector. But then I dropped the final, terrifying truth: I was pregnant, and he was the only one who could save us.
9.3
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.
9.4
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.
7.2
I am a top-tier Alpha from another universe, but a spatial jump error dropped me straight into a high-security military isolation chamber.
Right in front of me was a terrifying, silver-haired wolf-beastman Admiral, completely losing his mind to a lethal biological heat cycle.
To survive in this strange dimension where my powers were restricted, I had to pretend to be a helpless, terrified girl.
Surprisingly, my mere presence and scent instantly cured his incurable madness.
But this backfired horribly. He became obsessively possessive, treating me like a fragile, priceless treasure.
When I managed to sneak out to the city's lawless slums to gather intel and accidentally saved a dying panther boy, the Admiral went completely feral.
He brought an entire war fleet, blotting out the sky, just to "rescue" me.
He nearly slaughtered the boy out of blind jealousy, forcing me to throw myself into his arms and cry fake tears to stop the bloodshed.
"I'm taking you home. No one will ever hurt you again."
He brought me to his flagship's secret medical bay and ordered the Empire's chief doctor to run a full genetic classification test on me.
I panicked. If they discovered my true identity as an off-world Alpha, I would be dissected or executed.
I immediately commanded my AI system to fake my blood data, aiming for a perfectly average, forgettable Omega result.
But as the machine processed my blood, the alarms blared, and the system overloaded.
The old doctor fell to his knees in absolute worship, and the terrifying Admiral looked at me with wild, starving eyes.
My system had overcompensated. I wasn't registered as average. I was just classified as the only SSSSS-grade Omega in the history of the universe.
9.1
June woke up transmigrated into the body of a ruthless billionaire's toxic, disposable wife.
Before she could even process the massive Beverly Hills mansion, a cold system voice announced she had exactly five minutes of lifespan remaining.
To survive, she was forced to bind with the system and strictly maintain the original owner's "brainless, abusive drama queen" persona to earn hours to live.
She was forced to violently slap hot coffee out of a terrified maid's hands and physically spank her manipulative five-year-old stepson.
When she tried to escape this nightmare by throwing divorce papers at her terrifying husband, Isaac Walton, he simply ripped them to shreds.
Every time she tried to be reasonable or show a hint of kindness, the system tortured her with agonizing cardiac pain, cementing her status as the most hated monster in the family.
The most absurd part happened when she threw a hysterical, system-mandated tantrum over a gossip magazine, and Isaac's icy demeanor suddenly melted.
He gently touched her hair, offering the one thing she desperately needed.
"Stop crying. I'll handle it."
Just as a spark of hope ignited in her chest, the system's critical death warning exploded in her skull: accepting his sympathy would instantly deduct thirty days of her life.
To stay alive, June had no choice but to violently slap away the only hand reaching out to save her, forcing herself to play the greedy villain while her husband's gaze turned dangerously dark.