

Three years into an intelligent zombie apocalypse, gladiator Michonne, the only Perfect Mutant alive, is saved by rebel leader Rick and his super-powered squad. She takes the serum to gain great strength, aiming to save her sister Miana. However, Miana betrays her and teams up with the villain the Lord of the Abyss to steal her power. After fierce battles and shocking conspiracies, the Abyss Lord dies, Miana goes missing, and a bigger hidden enemy emerges, leaving humanity’s dawn still distant.

Reality-warping anomalies descend on the world, and with them comes a lethal labyrinth of survival rules that no one fully understands. Mia Townsend, a former homicide detective, now reborn into the body of a seventeen-year-old school girl, is selected as a national representative and sent into the trials.Where everyone else fixates on simply not dying, Mia refuses to think that small. She brings a detective's precision to each forbidden prohibition, treating every rule not as a wall but as a riddle with a seam running through it. Layer by layer she peels back the lies, finds the life hidden inside each trap, and moves forward while the world around her stands frozen in fear. She isn't surviving the anomalies. She's outplaying them.

Underworld boss Yara Jenkins dies saving Nina Shaw from a push off a building and wakes up in Nina's body. Hoping to leave her violent past behind and attend college, she discovers she's the school's worst student—and that Nina was bullied by the Shaw family's fake heiress and the entire household.Yara strikes back ruthlessly, crushes the Shaws, and reunites with her former right-hand men. But her exiled sister is secretly returning, vowing to seize power.

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.

A pair of orphaned siblings were separated in childhood. Years later, the sister became a billionaire and tirelessly searched for her brother’s whereabouts. Meanwhile, the brother woke from a comatose state, and he and his wife endured relentless abuse from villains. After the sister found her brother, she punished those who had wronged him, only to be counterattacked by the villains. Faced with the oppression of both his sister and wife, the brother finally revealed his true identity...

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.

Zoey Shaw wakes up inside a novel as the infamous villainess doomed to a tragic end.Refusing to follow the same path, she decides to rewrite her fate—no self-destruction, no foolish choices, just survival and a new beginning. When a shameless ex and a scheming rival show up to cause trouble, she’s ready. This time, she protects her husband, claims her happiness, and crushes every plot against her. She clears her family’s name and rises from ruin to glory.

Claire Graves transmigrates into the cultivation world and finally has a family, except her birth mother wounds her deeply and conspires with her vicious elder sister to steal her phoenix bone. Her young daughter Jessi raises her tiny hammer with one declaration: anyone who makes her mother cry is getting cooked. Mother and daughter handle their enemies with remarkable efficiency.What Claire never anticipates is her amnesiac servant. She contracts him carelessly, barely paying attention. He turns out to be Lucas Blackwell, one of the most feared immortal sovereigns in existence, bound to a cultivation path that forbids attachment of any kind. He recovers his memory and promptly becomes hopelessly devoted to Claire, pestering her daily for a formal commitment. The entire cultivation world watches their most terrifying sovereign dissolve into a lovesick fool in real time. Nobody is taking it well.

Cast out by his family, a powerless young man runs a supernatural supermarket in the apocalypse, trading with survivors using Anomaly Coins to unlock incredible goods and upgrade his store. His S‑rank staff obey without question, and with wit and cunning, he navigates deadly schemes—ultimately defeating a cosmic evil and rising from outcast to world‑saving hero.
![[ENG DUB] Sorry, I Don't Do Tragic Endings Anymore](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
Zoey Shaw wakes up inside a novel as the infamous villainess doomed to a tragic end.Refusing to follow the same path, she decides to rewrite her fate—no self-destruction, no foolish choices, just survival and a new beginning. When a shameless ex and a scheming rival show up to cause trouble, she’s ready. This time, she protects her husband, claims her happiness, and crushes every plot against her. She clears her family’s name and rises from ruin to glory.