Time Loop
I Died a Hundred Times Trapped in the Office Building
I was trapped in the company building, dying in a loop ninety-nine times.
The ways I died were varied: the elevator falling, electrocution from the copier, a pen tip piercing my brow…
Each time I opened my eyes, it was nine o’clock sharp on the same morning, just as I sat down at my desk.
After seeking help multiple times, my Physics Professor Husband finally believed me.
Following his instructions, I searched step by step for a way to escape the cycle of death.
But on the hundredth time, I saw the Jade Bracelet my husband had secretly bought, worn on the hand of an Aloof Female Colleague beside me.
…
On the 101st attempt, I decided to face the desperate situation head-on, determined to leave the building alive!
99.9% Perfect Marriage, Then I Quit
I have died seven times.
Every single time, I died on the day my husband asked for a divorce.
He doesn’t love me. Seven years of marriage proved to be fragile and worthless the moment his White Moonlight returned to the country.
The System told me that if I wanted to live, I had to defeat the White Moonlight.
Miscarriages, acting as a body double, framing her… my methods became increasingly ruthless.
However, just as I finally approached the finish line-when my Marriage Reconciliation Success Rate reached 99.99%-
I was the one who handed over the Divorce Agreement.
Death Countdown: Saved by the Chat
At 11:30 PM, I was home alone and ordered some takeout.
When the map showed the delivery driver was zero meters away, my phone rang.
I picked up, but there was nothing but silence on the other end-an eerie, unsettling quiet.
Impatient, I hung up. Just then, the driver sent me a private message: [I’m so sorry. I’m deaf and mute. I called you just to make sure you’d know your food had arrived immediately, but I couldn’t explain the situation over the phone. Please forgive me.]
[You must be waiting. I’ve already left the food at your door. Please pick it up as soon as possible.]
I was just about to open the door when several lines of bullet comments suddenly drifted across my vision.
[Don’t open the door! That person outside isn’t a delivery driver at all-he’s a murderer!]
[He called you so he could hear your voice and confirm whether you’re a woman living alone!]
[I’m so over this. The protagonists in these horror stories are always so brainless. This delivery guy is obviously suspicious, yet she’s still going to open the door.]