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If I Got You Right

I Regress if the Villainess Dies!

Xian lived his days doing what he loved, conquering the dating sim game he played with a touch of tragedy again and again looking for a way romance to one character. But, just when he reached what seemed to be the prelude of the route he wanted, it turns out that was the end of it as the game rolled the credits. "What!? Are you kidding me?" Indignant and was almost about to smash his laptop, an email notification plastered itself on the screen which caught his attention. If this were a novel, then he knew too well what happens next when something like that pops up. And he was right. Apparently some entities that were watching him got touched by his dedication. But still, he did a grave sin of not taking care of his body which caused him to die. As a compromise, the entities decided to punish him, by making him relieve doing what he loved. Transmigrating him in the game world he loved so much, to accomplish what he left unfinished and reach ‘the end’ he wanted to witness. But his first day didn’t went so well, as just minutes into reincarnation his vision already spun. He had been beheaded. By the orders of the very same character he was trying to save. That was his first regression. “Damn bitch.” He spat out of habit right in front of her. It was a habit he developed whenever he got frustrated with her character. He was beheaded once more, then came his second regression again. No Updates on Saturday and Sunday, 3-5 Chapters a Week. Also available on ScribbleHub and RoyalRoad!
Yuzai_Rearu · 16.1K Views

If I Die Tomorrow, Will You Cry Today?

For Arata Itsuki, life is a movie where he's just a background character. His mission is simple: be invisible, graduate peacefully, and never get involved in the drama of the main characters. He is a master observer, and his primary subject is Aizawa Nanami—the goddess of perfection, the school idol whose life seems flawless. Their worlds were never meant to intersect, save for one anomaly: the cold hatred Aizawa Nanami always directs at him, a mystery too exhausting for Arata to solve. But his gray routine is shattered when he witnesses the tragedy that takes Nanami's life right before his eyes. That horror should have been the end of an ordinary day, but for Arata, it was just the beginning. He wakes up on the same day. Again, and again. Trapped in a prison of time, Arata soon realizes the only rule in this loop of fate: the day resets every time Aizawa Nanami meets a tragic end. Arata, the apathetic background character, is now forced to be the hero in a story that isn't his. The problem is, how do you save someone who wants nothing to do with you? Someone whose gaze could freeze your blood? With each repetition, Arata begins to see the cracks behind Nanami's perfect mask. He soon understands that the accident was no coincidence, but the climax of an unseen suffering hidden behind the goddess's smile. To break the cycle, Arata must become not only her protector, but also a detective, unraveling a past trauma that is the root of Nanami's hatred for him. Faced with a repeating destiny, Arata must find the answer to an impossible question: IF I DIE TOMORROW, WILL YOU CRY TODAY?
IndraRafisqy · 3.1K Views

I can set you just right

The boardroom was a wall of glass and judgment. At exactly 8:59 AM, Arielle pushed through the doors in a sharp navy dress that clung to her like confidence had been stitched into every seam. Her heels echoed across the floor as she approached the long, polished table where half a dozen stone-faced executives sat, murmuring over papers and steaming coffee. Dominic was already seated at the head of the table. He didn't look at her. Not at first. But he felt her enter. Just like gravity feels the moon. She took her spot near the screen, placed the tablet in front of her, and exhaled slowly. "You ready?" Dominic asked quietly, his voice low, unreadable. She turned to him with a sharp smile. "Born ready." He finally met her gaze—and for a second, something flickered behind his eyes. Not approval. Not yet. But something… closer than before. "Gentlemen," Dominic said to the table. "This is Arielle Sinclair. She'll be walking you through the market projections and proposed strategy updates for Q3." One of the older men raised a brow. "Her?" Arielle didn't flinch. "Yes. Me," she said, smiling sweetly. "Try to keep up." There was a pause—half stunned, half amused—and then, silence She launched into her presentation. And she nailed it. Clear. Sharp. Confident. She wasn't just parroting facts; she owned the numbers. Her explanations were quick, her slides precise, and her delivery unapologetically fierce. For the first time, they weren't looking at her legs or her lipstick. They were looking at her mind. And Dominic? He watched every second like a man watching a match ignite in a room full of gas. At one point, their eyes locked—and she saw it. A crack in his armor. Not desire. Not annoyance. But something like… respect. And it made her stomach flip in a way no designer bag ever had. When she concluded with a succinct, "Any questions?" the room was quiet. Then, one of the board members nodded. "Well done, Miss Sinclair. Concise and well-structured." Dominic didn't say a word. But his fingers drummed once against the table. A silent approval. The meeting ended. As the board members filed out, Dominic remained seated, watching her. She turned to him slowly. "Well?" she asked. He stood, approached, and said nothing until he was directly in front of her. "You surprised them." "And you?" His gaze dropped to her lips for a split second before meeting her eyes again. "I don't surprise easily." She stepped closer. "You didn't think I could do it." "I knew you could," he said, voice dark and steady. "I just didn't know if you would." She tilted her head. "So what now?" His eyes raked over her—not with lust, but with something more dangerous. Calculating. Hungry. "Now," he said slowly, "I stop holding back." She inhaled sharply. "What does that mean?" "It means if you're staying in this game, you better be ready to lose sometimes." She licked her lips. "I never lose." He smirked—slow, wolfish. "We'll see." And he walked out first. But this time? She followed with her chin high, her stride proud, and fire crackling in her chest. She hadn't just passed the test. She'd lit the room on fire. The hallway was quiet after the boardroom storm, but Arielle's heels still echoed like a victory march. She was glowing. Not just from the adrenaline of her flawless presentation, but from something else—something hotter, deeper. The way Dominic had looked at her afterward wasn't just professional respect. It was a crack in his walls. And she intended to widen it. She pressed the button for the elevator, and just as the doors slid open, a shadow fell over her shoulder. Dominic. Of course. He stepped in beside her without a word, towering, silent, composed. The doors closed. Silence. Tension. Air that thickened with each passing floor. She stood beside him, not touching, but close enough to feel the heat rolling off his body. Close enough to catch a whiff of his cologne—clean, dark, devasta
STAYCE · 16.9K Views
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