The Unwanted Genius Escapes Her Dark Fate
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Seraphina was the greatest mage of her generation. Then she saw her future: betrayed, broken, and left for dead.
She woke up with a new plan: do absolutely nothing.
Trip on flat floors. Cry magical floods. Tell professors her only goal is "three meals and eight hours of sleep."
Let Elara steal her glory. Let the system target someone else. She just wants to nap.
But no one will let her fail.
The strictest professor calls her breakdown "enlightenment." The potion genius turns her scribbles into "divine wisdom." The more she acts like trash, the more they worship her.
She didn't choose to be a legend.
She chose to be useless.
Why is that so hard?
The Unwanted Genius Escapes Her Dark Fate Chapter 1
"Empathy, Seraphina! You lack even a single ounce of it!"
Professor Alden's voice bounced off the mahogany walls of his office. He slammed his hand flat against his desk. The impact rattled the inkwells and sent three pieces of parchment fluttering to the floor.
Seraphina stood perfectly still. Her spine was rigid. Her jaw locked so tight her teeth ached.
A few feet away, Elara stood with her shoulders hunched. Her fingers dug into the fabric of her uniform skirt, twisting the material into tight knots. A single, perfect tear welled in her wide eyes and tracked slowly down her cheek. It was a calculated display of vulnerability.
"She broke my beginner's wand, Professor," Elara whispered. Her voice trembled. It sounded like glass cracking under pressure. "I know I'm not as gifted as her, but she didn't have to destroy it."
Seraphina opened her mouth to speak. She had logic on her side. She had proof.
But before the words could leave her throat, her brain split open.
A blinding, tearing pain ripped through the center of her skull. It felt like a physical blade carving into her gray matter. Her breath hitched. Her vision went completely black.
Images violently shoved their way into her mind. They weren't just pictures; they were memories of a future she hadn't lived yet. She saw herself screaming. She saw her magic being ripped from her veins, leaving her hollow and bleeding on a cold stone floor. She saw Elara standing over her, smiling a cold, dead smile while everyone Seraphina had ever trusted turned their backs.
The pain vanished as quickly as it hit.
Seraphina gasped, her lungs burning as she sucked in the stale office air. She blinked hard. The room came back into focus, but something was different.
In Seraphina's vision, a glowing, translucent blue screen materialized above Elara's head. It wasn't a physical object, but an overlay in her mind's eye, a lingering phantom from the prophecy that only she could perceive.
Target: Seraphina Vanguard. Jealousy Level: 85%. Anticipating outburst. Reward: 500 System Points.
Seraphina's stomach dropped to her shoes. The blood drained from her face, leaving her skin icy and numb. It wasn't a hallucination. The prophecy was real. The system was real. If she maintained her pride, if she fought back, she would die.
"Your silence speaks volumes," Alden said. He rubbed his jaw, a habit he leaned on when he was stressed. "I am cutting your mana stone quota for the month. Perhaps that will teach you humility."
Elara's eyes gleamed. The blue screen above her head flashed. Anticipating target's rage.
Seraphina looked at the screen. She looked at Elara's fake tears. Then, she made a choice.
If pride meant death, she would become the most pathetic creature in this academy.
Seraphina let her knees buckle.
She didn't brace herself. She let her full weight crash onto the thick carpet. The dull thud echoed in the quiet room.
Alden's mouth snapped shut. The lecture died in his throat. He stared at his top student, the untouchable prodigy, now crumpled on the floor.
Elara's fake tear stopped mid-track. The blue screen above her head flickered. Error. Target behavior anomalous.
Seraphina buried her face in her hands. She forced her breathing to turn ragged. She hiked her shoulders up and let them shake violently. She didn't have real tears, so she pressed the heels of her palms hard against her eyes until she saw stars, making her voice thick and wet.
"You're right," Seraphina sobbed. The sound was loud, ugly, and entirely pathetic. "You're so right, Professor. I'm a monster."
Alden stumbled backward. His knee clipped his heavy leather chair. "Seraphina? What are you-"
"I did it because I'm jealous!" Seraphina wailed, peeking through her fingers to gauge their reactions. "I look at Elara, and she's so pure. So innocent. The pressure of being the best... it's crushing my chest. I can't breathe! I ruin everything because I'm so terrified of failing!"
Elara's jaw dropped. Her fingers released her skirt. Those were her lines. Seraphina was stealing her exact script.
Alden's anger evaporated. His face paled with sudden, heavy guilt. He stepped around the desk, his hand reaching out. "Seraphina, please. Breathe. I didn't realize you were under such immense strain."
Seraphina slapped his hand away. She shrank back, curling into a tight ball.
"No! Don't touch me! I don't deserve your forgiveness!" She reached into her pocket with trembling fingers. She pulled out the heavy gold key-the symbol of her status as the Chief Apprentice.
She held it out with shaking hands.
"Take it," she choked out. "I resign. I need to be punished. I can't handle the high-level rooms anymore. I'm too weak."
Alden stared at the gold key. "Seraphina, this is an overreaction. We can get you counseling. You don't have to give up your status."
"Take it!" she screamed, her voice cracking perfectly.
Above Elara, the blue screen turned a violent red. CRITICAL ERROR. Target has surrendered status. Plunder logic failed.
Seraphina saw Elara's face twist into genuine panic. It took every ounce of Seraphina's willpower not to smile.
She dropped the gold key. It hit the floor with a sharp, metallic clink.
Before Alden could speak, Seraphina scrambled to her feet. She swayed heavily, acting as if the gravity in the room had doubled. She dragged her feet toward the heavy oak door, her head hung low.
"Seraphina..." Alden whispered. He slumped back into his chair, rubbing his jaw furiously, his eyes wide with shock.
Elara reached for the key, but a sharp, stabbing pain shot through her head, forcing her to recoil. A system penalty. She hissed in pain, cradling her temples as if struck by a sudden, violent migraine, and left the key untouched on the carpet.
Seraphina pushed the door open. The cool draft of the hallway hit her face.
The moment the door clicked shut behind her, Seraphina dropped her hands. Her shoulders straightened. The fake sobs vanished instantly. A slow, easy smile spread across her lips.
A group of first-year students walking past stopped dead in their tracks. They stared at Seraphina's red-rimmed eyes and messy hair, their mouths hanging open in shock.
Seraphina ignored them. She rolled her neck, feeling the tension bleed out of her muscles.
If being trash kept her alive, she was going to be the absolute worst student this academy had ever seen.
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The Unwanted Genius Escapes Her Dark Fate of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6Chapter 7 Ch. 7Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels
8.6
In my past life, the Cerberus strain leaked, turning the world into a blood-soaked hell of rotting flesh and mutated monsters.
I thought my boyfriend Declan and my best friend Hailee would have my back as we fled the quarantine zone.
Instead, when the surging crowd of the infected cornered us, they didn't hesitate.
They shoved me backward into the horde just to buy themselves three seconds to run.
As I fell into the mud, I saw them fleeing without a single backward glance.
"She's dead weight anyway!" Hailee screamed.
"Just keep running, she'll distract them!" Declan yelled back.
I was torn apart, feeling the agonizing tear of rotting teeth sinking into my neck and the hot spray of my own blood.
Before the apocalypse, my greedy uncle had locked away my ten-million-dollar trust fund, leaving me with nothing but a fake boyfriend who only wanted me for my money.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand how the people I loved most could trade my life for a head start.
Why did I blindly trust them? Why didn't I see through their perfectly choreographed lies?
Opening my eyes again, the stench of decaying flesh vanished, replaced by the sterile smell of my college dorm room.
Hailee and Declan were standing over my bed, faking tears of concern over my meningitis fever.
I was back exactly seven days before the world ended, and my spatial vault ability had come back with me.
This time, I'm extorting my uncle for every cent, hoarding the city's supplies, and leaving them all to rot.
7.2
Four years ago, Madelynn accepted money from Caiden's family and vanished. She thought it was for the best-he would remain the untouchable heir while she faced her tough life alone.
When they met again, Caiden humiliated her in public, yet appeared when she was cornered by a difficult client, pulling her back into his life.
He forced her to stay as his lover, using her mother's medical bills as leverage, whispering, "What you owe me... you'll repay the same way."
Madelynn believed he despised her. Only after the accident, when he ran toward her before the explosion, did she understand-he never let go.
9.0
I am the undisputed ice queen of the ER, a doctor whose life is built on absolute control. A month ago, I impulsively married a stranger to create a legal shield against my ex-mentor's betrayal.
Our prenup had one strict rule: a fake marriage with zero interference in each other's lives. But tonight, my "husband on paper" was wheeled into my ER, unconscious, reeking of cheap whiskey, and suffering from a bleeding ulcer.
To authorize his emergency surgery, I had to sign the consent form as his wife, detonating a gossip bomb among my colleagues. Worse, his overbearing family found out he was hospitalized. To stop his terrifying mother from flying in and exposing our sham marriage, I had to lean over his hospital bed and take a fake, loving couple's selfie.
I didn't understand why this disciplined math professor was suddenly drinking himself to death, nor why my chest tightened when he looked at me with exhausted eyes and begged for homemade soup. My perfectly ordered, untouchable life was crumbling into a chaotic mess, and I was losing my grip on the narrative.
"We should probably spend some time together beforehand. We could be roommates."
To prepare for an unavoidable family dinner and a wedding, my stranger husband just asked me to move into his apartment. The ultimate uncontrolled variable has just crossed the line, and our fake marriage is about to become dangerously real.
8.8
Clara supported her boyfriend Leo for four years, paying his rent and buying his headshots while working dead-end extra gigs.
On his twenty-sixth birthday, she caught him in their bed with Veronica, a wealthy producer's daughter who constantly stole Clara's roles.
Leo mocked Clara as a "pathetic, poor stepping stone" who was just there until he got his foot in the door.
Veronica threatened to ruin Clara's career forever.
Clara dumped him, packed her bags, and impulsively entered a contract marriage with a cold stranger she met at City Hall.
But her nightmare wasn't over.
When her mother suddenly needed a $200,000 emergency brain surgery, Clara was forced to take a demeaning extra gig to survive.
There, Veronica and her starlet friend cornered Clara.
They mocked her cheap clothes, ridiculed her new wedding ring as fake glass, and intentionally poured scalding coffee on her feet.
"Well, maid, you better clean that up."
Veronica laughed, forcing Clara to her knees to wipe up the burning liquid while snapping photos.
Clara swallowed her burning humiliation, secretly recording their abuse on her phone.
She endured the pain, desperate for the $300 day rate to save her mother's life, feeling entirely crushed by their overwhelming wealth and power.
What she didn't know was that outside the soundstage, her new contract husband—the man she thought was just a struggling, broke tech worker—was sitting in a sleek black Maybach.
He watched his wife kneeling on the floor, and his dark eyes filled with a lethal, terrifying rage.
9.0
Eileen woke up in a trashed hotel room, her head pounding with the pathetic memories of a despised Hollywood actress.
Outside the window, paparazzi were already screaming about her manufactured cheating scandal, but the real nightmare was waiting at her door.
Her paralyzed, billionaire husband, Carlisle Vinson, looked at her with pure disgust while his butler shoved a divorce settlement at her chest.
"Mr. Vinson is offering a severance package of fifty million dollars, provided you sign immediately and vacate the premises."
The original owner had left her an absolute mess.
Her trusted assistant had sold her room number to the press to frame her, and a playboy had scammed her out of her entire two million dollar life savings.
If she signed those papers and lost the Vinson family's protection, the breach of contract fees and her enemies in the industry would swallow her alive in days.
Eileen felt a cold fury override the original owner's lingering panic.
Why should she take the fall and be thrown out on the streets while the parasites who set her up lived out their wealthy fantasies?
She had died once, and she wasn't about to waste her second chance playing the victim.
Eileen slammed the heavy divorce folder shut right against the butler's chest.
"I'm not signing," she said with a terrifying, absolute calm.
She stepped behind her husband's wheelchair, ready to shield him from the cameras, secretly cure his dead legs, and make everyone who betrayed her bleed.
7.5
I gave up my twenty-billion-dollar inheritance and cut ties with my family, all for my boyfriend of five years, Ignatz.
But just as I was about to tell him I was pregnant with our child, he dropped a bombshell.
He needed me to take the fall for his childhood sweetheart, Everleigh. She'd been in a hit-and-run, and her career couldn't handle the scandal.
When I refused and told him about our baby, his face went cold. He told me to terminate the pregnancy immediately.
"Everleigh is the woman I love," he said. "Finding out you're pregnant with my child would destroy her."
He had his assistant schedule the appointment and sent me to the clinic alone. There, the nurse told me the procedure carried a high risk of permanent infertility.
He knew. And he still sent me.
I walked out of that clinic, choosing to keep my child. At that exact moment, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a glowing article announcing that Ignatz and Everleigh were expecting their first child, complete with a photo of his hand resting protectively on her stomach.
My world shattered. Wiping away a tear, I found the number I hadn't called in five years.
"Dad," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I'm ready to come home."
