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 9
Angel carefully slid down into the hollow. The snow beneath her feet was stained dark red, the metallic smell of blood sharp in the cold air.
She used the bone knife to brush the snow off the body, revealing a muscular man covered in blood.
He was in a half-beast state. A pair of grey wolf ears poked through his matted hair. His body was covered in deep, bone-deep gashes, clearly from a brutal fight.
Angel leaned in closer. When she saw the man's handsome, wild face beneath the blood and grime, her pupils shrank.
The original host's memories flooded back. This was Jefferey Stein, an elite warrior from the northern Wolfpack Clan. More importantly, he was Al Stein's younger brother.
Angel's expression grew complicated. She hated Al with a passion. Saving his brother seemed like a stupid move.
She gripped the bone knife tighter, a spark of killing intent in her eyes. It would be so easy to end the life of her enemy's brother right now.
But then, a memory flashed in her mind: When the original host was being framed by Al, Jefferey was the only one who stood up and called his brother shameless. He had even been ostracized by his family for defending her.
The killing intent slowly faded. She realized Jefferey was nothing like his hypocritical brother. He had tried to help her.
The system beeped urgently: [Target Legacy DNA match: Extremely High. Life countdown: 10 minutes. ]
Angel didn't hesitate anymore. She dropped to her knees in the snow and pressed both hands onto Jefferey's most fatal wound. She channeled her Tier 1 Bio-Regenesis ability with everything she had.
Warm Fox-Fire mixed with green regenerative light poured into Jefferey's dying body, struggling to repair his damaged organs.
Outputting so much energy in the extreme cold drained her fast. Her vision blurred, and her hands shook violently.
But she gritted her teeth and held on, forcing the energy out until the fatal wound on his chest stopped bleeding and began to scab over.
Ten minutes later, the system's danger alert finally ceased. Angel, completely drained, collapsed into the snow, gasping for air.
A moment later, Jefferey let out a low groan. His grey eyes fluttered open, looking confused.
He tried to sit up, shocked to find himself not only alive but that his fatal wound had miraculously healed.
He turned his head and saw Angel lying in the snow next to him, pale as a sheet. He recognized her instantly.
His eyes widened in disbelief. He couldn't believe the exiled "defect" possessed such godly healing powers.
Jefferey struggled to sit up. He took off his thick, intact fur coat and carefully draped it over Angel's shivering body.
The warmth roused her. Angel opened her eyes, her gaze cold as she looked at him. "Don't even think about biting the hand that saved you," she warned.
Instead of getting angry, Jefferey grinned, a wild, sincere smile that showed off his sharp canines.
He dropped to one knee in the snow, pounded his right fist against his left chest in the oldest, most solemn salute of the wolf clan.
"You pulled me back from the brink of death," Jefferey declared loudly. "The wolf clan does not forget a life debt. Until this favor is fully repaid in blood and sweat, my claws and fangs are yours to command. I will be your hunter and guard."
Angel looked at him, a bit surprised by his directness. There was no hypocrisy, no hesitation, just a warrior's pragmatic honor.
She reminded him coldly, "I'm an exile. Following me means endless hunts and snowstorms."
Jefferey scoffed. "I despise that rotten clan and my shameless brother. Following a true powerhouse is an honor."
He noticed her extreme weakness and stood up immediately. "I'll go get the prey I was hunting."
Less than ten minutes later, Jefferey dragged back the massive carcass of an Icefield Elk. It was top-tier food in the wasteland.
Angel looked at the animal, enough to feed them for half a month. A faint smile finally touched her lips. She had won the bet.
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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.