The Defective Wife's Lethal Comeback
Jolie transmigrated into a high-tech universe ruled by beast-shifting Primals, only to wake up in the body of a "defective" female. With a Genetic Compatibility Index of zero, she was publicly discarded by her mandated military partner.
Before she could even adapt, her stepmother drugged her with an illegal aphrodisiac and locked her in a pitch-black suite with that same ex-fiancé—now a feral, maddened beast. The family wanted her torn apart to permanently erase their embarrassment.
But instead of dying, Jolie awakened a rare plant-manipulation power. She bound the raging General, drained his energy, robbed him blind, and fled to a remote farming planet. Just as she thought she was free, the Commonwealth system flashed a new mandate. They assigned her a new husband: Keanu Robertson, a psychotic assassin who had murdered his last three wives.
The system wasn't giving her a partner; it was handing her a death warrant. Keanu despised females, especially a "useless" zero-GCI burden. He tracked her forged alias across the galaxy, descending upon her barren farm in the dead of night with pure murderous intent. How could a discarded, defective girl survive the most feared apex predator in the Shadow Sector?
But as the legendary assassin stepped onto her property to finish the job, a mutated, neurotoxic vine whipped out and completely paralyzed him. Watching the massive killer crash face-first into the dirt, Jolie lowered her rifle and smiled.
"Welcome home, husband."
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Chapter 1
The blinding glare of the crystal chandelier felt like a physical assault.
Jolie's eyelids snapped open. She tried to push herself up, but her limbs felt like they were filled with wet cement. A sickening, unnatural weakness dragged her right back down into the plush velvet of the sofa.
Before she could even process the texture of the fabric beneath her fingertips, the memories hit. They didn't just play in her mind; they electrocuted her nervous system. A high-voltage surge of another woman's life-the original Jolie Pennington's life-tore through her skull. Jolie clamped her teeth down hard on her lower lip, tasting copper as she forced herself to swallow the agonizing pain.
She was no longer on Earth. She had transmigrated into a high-tech universe ruled by Primals-males who could shift into devastating beasts, driven by a biological need to hunt and consume energy. But that energy was a poison. Without a female to act as a catalyst, to soothe their psychic sea and regulate their feral state, a Primal would eventually go mad. Females were the ultimate prize, the only cure.
Unless, of course, you were the original Jolie.
A piece of medical paper flashed in Jolie's mind. Genetic Compatibility Index: 0. A defective female. A biological dead end.
The memory shifted violently. She felt the phantom sting of a heavy paper check slapping across her face. It was General Aloys Patterson, Jolie's state-mandated Primal partner, publicly paying a colossal fine just to annul their pairing. The humiliation in the original Jolie's chest had been so profound it had literally killed her spirit.
Jolie felt the residual heartbreak lingering in her ribcage. Her stomach churned with the ghost of the original Jolie's despair. She closed her eyes, feeling the crushing weight of a life unlived, a soul broken by a society that valued only utility. For a fleeting second, the sorrow threatened to drown her own consciousness. No, she told herself, her mental voice sharp and unyielding. I cannot be swallowed by this despair. Her era is over, and now it is mine. I will not die trembling in the dark. She let out a dark, breathless scoff. Pathetic. Jolie ruthlessly crushed that lingering weakness, locking it away in the darkest corner of her mind. She didn't have time to cry over a man she didn't know. She had to survive.
The sharp, rhythmic click of high heels against marble echoed from the hallway. Someone was approaching the lounge, and they were moving fast.
Jolie's survival instincts hijacked her body. She instantly let her muscles go slack, closing her eyes and slowing her breathing to mimic a deep, vulnerable sleep.
The heavy door of the lounge swung open. The scent of expensive, synthetic roses flooded the room. Catina Serrano, her stepmother, hurried in.
Catina sank onto the edge of the sofa. A velvet-gloved hand reached out, gently patting Jolie's cheek. "Jolie, darling. Wake up."
Jolie forced her eyelids to flutter open. She let her gaze wander, perfectly playing the role of the traumatized, discarded social pariah. She looked up at Catina with wide, vacant eyes.
Catina reached into her designer clutch and pulled out a small, silver vial. A flash of pure malice danced in her eyes before she masked it with a sickeningly sweet smile. "Drink this, sweetheart. It's a portable soothing agent. It will help calm your nerves after... well, after that nasty business with Aloys."
Jolie's sharp gaze immediately caught a subtle, unnatural shift. The liquid inside the vial wasn't the clear, thin consistency of a standard soothing agent; it was thick, almost syrupy, with a faint, iridescent sheen. Combined with the flash of malice she had just witnessed, her instincts screamed. This wasn't medicine. It was an illegal, high-grade aphrodisiac.
Catina wasn't trying to soothe her. She was trying to destroy her.
Jolie kept her expression perfectly blank. She parted her lips obediently. Catina tipped the vial, letting the thick liquid slide into Jolie's mouth. The moment it hit her tongue, Jolie pressed the back of her tongue hard against the roof of her mouth, sealing her throat. She didn't swallow a single drop.
Catina watched her throat, waiting for the bob of an Adam's apple that wasn't there, then smiled in satisfaction. She stood up, grabbing Jolie by the upper arm and hauling her to her feet. Jolie let her legs wobble, playing the part of a drugged, helpless victim.
As Catina hauled her up, Jolie let out a violent, fabricated cough. She doubled over, her free hand coming up to muffle the sound, and seamlessly spat the entire mouthful of the thick liquid deep into the absorbent fabric of her own sleeve.
"Come along," Catina cooed, dragging Jolie out of the lounge and toward the VIP stealth elevator. Catina pressed the button for the top floor.
Inside the glass box, Jolie intentionally slumped, letting the dead weight of her body press heavily against Catina's side. Through the glass, Jolie's eyes darted around, memorizing the layout of the emergency stairwells and the security cameras.
The elevator chimed. The doors slid open to a silent, dimly lit hallway. Catina half-dragged, half-carried Jolie to the double doors of the presidential suite at the very end of the corridor.
Catina pulled a black keycard from her tailored jacket pocket and swiped it against the scanner. The lock clicked green. The door cracked open, revealing a pitch-black interior. A heavy, suffocating silence bled out from the room.
Then, a sound shattered the quiet. It was a low, guttural, wet breath. The sound of a massive beast struggling for air.
Jolie's heart slammed against her ribs.
"The family arranged a private therapist for you inside," Catina lied smoothly. Jolie caught the smug, calculating gleam in her stepmother's eyes. Catina had clearly thought this through. The man inside was a top-tier General, but in his feral, drug-addled state, his memory of the encounter would be completely wiped. When the authorities eventually found the gruesome aftermath, Catina would simply weep for the cameras and blame the hotel's faulty security system, washing the Pennington family's hands of the tragic accident while permanently disposing of their greatest embarrassment. Catina gave Jolie a firm shove toward the darkness. "Go on."
Jolie stumbled on purpose. As she caught her balance against the doorframe, her right hand darted out, her fingers slipping seamlessly into the pocket of Catina's jacket. She pinched the spare black keycard and slipped it into the hidden fold of her skirt in less than a second.
Before Jolie could fully stand, Catina planted both hands on Jolie's back and shoved her with brutal force.
Jolie pitched forward. She tucked her shoulder, rolling onto the thick carpet to absorb the impact and avoid snapping a wrist.
From the hallway, Catina let out a cold, venomous laugh. "Good luck, you useless trash."
The heavy wooden door slammed shut. The electronic lock engaged with a heavy, metallic thud.
Jolie was trapped in the dark.
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9.6
Areli was the hardest-working medic in the Blackridge Clan, but her efforts only earned her the title of a useless burden.
Her supposed lover, Eugene, and her senior mentor, Gloria, lured her to the edge of the deadly Blackwind Cliff and shoved her straight into the abyss.
She miraculously survived the freefall, only to return and find Gloria standing before the entire clan, wearing a mask of fake sorrow.
"Look! The traitor is back! She eloped with wild males!" Gloria shrieked.
Eugene stepped up, looking heartbroken, and publicly accused her of betraying his love.
The crowd erupted, raining hisses and boos upon her, completely ignoring the horrific, life-threatening bruises that covered her battered body.
They blindly believed the lies, treating her like garbage while Gloria secretly plotted to poison her water and destroy her completely.
Areli felt a chilling sense of betrayal. How could the man who claimed to love her watch her fall with such cold eyes?
To make matters worse, her modern biochemist instincts revealed a terrifying truth: she was unexpectedly pregnant with the child of a savage Warlord she had encountered in the wild.
In this brutal, primitive world, showing any weakness was an absolute death sentence.
But she wasn't going to cower or run away.
Refusing the Warlord's offer to simply rescue her, Areli calmly placed a highly toxic herb on her drying rack and left her tent flap open.
The bait was set. Now, she just had to wait for the screams.
7.4
"You can't escape me, Aurora. You are mine!"
The Alpha King's roar echoed through the palace walls.
But Aurora just tightened her grip on the blade hidden beneath her cloak.
She would never-never-give herself to the monster who murdered her father.
Even if the Moon Goddess cursed her to be his mate.
***
Aurora Regalia once had everything-a loving father, a prosperous pack, and a future that glittered with promise. Her father, the king, even chose her a mate: Logan Charming. Powerful. Charismatic. Cursed.
She thought he was her destiny.
Then she watched him tear her father's head from his shoulders.
One night. One betrayal. Her entire family, slaughtered. Her pack, reduced to ashes.
Aurora jumped off a cliff that night-not to die, but to survive. To become something her enemies would never see coming.
An assassin. A ghost. A blade wrapped in silk.
For years, she trained in the shadows, fueled by one single purpose: revenge. Blood for blood. She would make Logan Charming suffer the way she had suffered. She would carve his heart out and feel nothing.
But fate had a cruel sense of humor.
The Moon Goddess looked down at her shattered daughter and laughed.
Because the man who destroyed her life?
The monster who wore her father's blood on his hands?
He was her fated mate.
Now Aurora stands at a crossroads she never asked for. Every instinct screams for vengeance. Every fiber of her being recoils at the bond pulling her toward him.
But Logan? He doesn't care about her hatred. He doesn't care about her blade.
"You can run, little mate," he whispers, crimson eyes gleaming in the dark. "But I will always find you."
And when he does?
He won't just cage her body.
He'll claim her soul.
9.5
He was born from the void between stars - a being of immense power, forged from cosmic origins.
For thousands of years, he walked among humanity, protecting them and keeping his true strength hidden. After losing the only family he had, grief led him to seek his own end... only to wake up in a world entirely unlike his own.
Here, cultivation is the main path to power. Those who master spirit qi gain superhuman strength, speed, and abilities that place them far above ordinary people. Four great sects rule the land, competing for resources, secrets, and dominance over each other.
Icaros joined the Li Sect, where he found companions he came to trust and care for: the capable and easygoing Li Han, the sharp and composed Su Yan, and the spirited Nelly. For a time, he felt he had found a place to belong, even as he kept his true nature hidden and wondered whether he could ever learn to cultivate like those around him.
Everything changed when their voyage was suddenly attacked. A powerful figure floating in the sky cut their ship apart with sharp, devastating energy strikes, leaving only destruction in his wake. Believing his friends had been lost in the disaster, Icaros chose to stop holding back any longer.
> "I am done hiding!"
He unleashed his full power: golden light blazed from his eyes, he flew at incredible speed, and he broke through every barrier and enemy in his way. On the shores ahead, he tore through hordes of powerful jade monsters, destroying them completely before flying deep into the interior of the island.
Meanwhile, survivors washed up scattered and alone. One young cultivator found himself on the shores of Jade Island - a place most cultivators avoid, as it holds no treasures or useful materials, only danger and endless deposits of ordinary jade. Yet despite the risks, ordinary people have built settlements here, finding safety from the conflicts and power struggles of the outside world.
This island works by different rules. Spirit qi is scarce and unstable, making cultivation far less effective than elsewhere. Instead, the people here rely on advanced technology - weapons and explosives that can injure or even defeat those with great physical strength. Here, skill and preparation can be just as powerful as raw strength, and even the strongest cultivators must move with caution.
Now, Icaros has vanished deep into the island. His companions are lost somewhere across this dangerous land. And the mysterious swordsman who destroyed their ship has already arrived here, searching for an ancient map said to lead to the legacy of a being from another world.
Will they find each other again? And can anyone survive in a place where the usual rules of power no longer hold true?
✅ Chapters 1–19: FREE
🔒 Chapters 20 onwards: PAID
(Continue the journey of power, friendship, and discovery!)
9.0
My father was dying in the ICU, and our family company, the Martin Group, was on the verge of total collapse.
While I was desperately trying to sign the consent form for his life-saving surgery, my fiancé, Eston, sent me a text.
"I told you not to be stubborn. The company is mine by Friday. Beg me, and I might pay for the funeral."
He had been secretly looting my family's assets from the inside, waiting for me to break so he could steal everything. He thought I would crawl back to him in absolute despair, surrendering my father's legacy just to survive. The sheer weight of my helplessness crushed my chest as the heart monitor next to my father's bed let out a frantic, high-pitched scream.
The betrayal tore through me, but the despair quickly hardened into a cold, sharp stone.
Why should I let the man who ruined me dance on my family's grave? Why should I let him walk away with everything while I lost the only family I had left?
I wiped away my tears and blocked his number permanently.
Then, I stepped out into the freezing Manhattan rain and went straight to the top floor of the Maxwell building.
I threw my remaining shares onto the desk of Ellwood Maxwell—the apex predator of Wall Street, and Eston's untouchable, ruthless uncle.
"I want you to marry me," Ellwood said, pushing a marriage contract toward me. "That is the only way your company survives."
I picked up the pen. If Eston wanted to destroy my life, I would become his aunt and make him bow.
9.6
I was only three and a half years old, living in a damp basement and beaten daily by Enoch Pruitt with a heavy leather whip.
"Get up, you useless waste of space!"
He always told me I was a stray he had picked out of the garbage.
But during one brutal beating that nearly stopped my heart, time froze, and a glowing figure called The Chronicler appeared.
"You are not an abandoned orphan, Clare. You carry the blood of the highest gods."
He revealed that I was the stolen daughter of the ultra-wealthy Barrett family.
Then, he showed me the horrific ending of my previous life.
I had died right here on this bloody dirt floor.
My real parents and three brothers went completely insane with grief, turning into ruthless monsters who destroyed themselves and the entire world to avenge me.
Meanwhile, the Pruitt family kept torturing me, locking me in a woodshed and feeding me moldy bread.
The memory of my bones breaking and my real mother's agonizing screams crushed my chest.
Why did I have to suffer like an animal while my true family tore the world apart looking for me?
This time, I refused to die in the mud.
I accepted my divine blood, my eyes glowing gold as I summoned a bolt of purple lightning to strike my abuser.
I just needed to survive the night.
Because my real father's heavily armed convoy was already tearing up the mountain, ready to burn this hell to the ground.
8.4
After raising Dakota for years, the wealthy Walton family mercilessly kicked her out of their mansion.
Her adopted father threw a crisp check for five hundred dollars onto a stripped mattress.
"That is more than enough for a bus ticket back to whatever slum your real parents live in. Do not ever contact us again."
Her adopted sister Cindy tried to violently snatch her faded canvas backpack, smugly bragging that she was already engaged to Dakota's former fiancé. The entire family stood on their grand balcony, sneering in disgust as Dakota left in a broken-down, smoking rental car.
"You are going to die in the gutter!"
They treated her like a contagious disease, truly believing she was nothing more than an ungrateful, bottom-feeding street rat destined to rot in poverty and beg for their charity.
But what the arrogant Waltons didn't know was that on her way "home," Dakota would casually save the dying matriarch of the country's most powerful family using a mythical medical technique. She traded her smoking junk car for a million-dollar reward and a flawless Rolls-Royce Cullinan. And the filthy "slum" she was returning to? It was the palatial estate of the ultra-billionaire Su empire. As her true parents wept with joy and ordered their staff to buy out every luxury brand in the world just to welcome her back, Dakota prepared to show the people who threw her away what real power looked like.