

My coworkers and I are forcibly dragged into a bizarre game with the initial title displayed as "War of the Plants". Everyone crowds around to choose camps or safe houses with abundant water resources. I am the only one who picks a plastic apartment in the desert with no water or electricity. My female supervisor mocks me in front of everyone, saying I must be out of my mind. No one is willing to team up with me, and they even bet I won't last three days. When choosing abilities, everyone rushes for practical powers like spatial storage or metal control. I, however, choose reverse photosynthesis that allows me to gain energy from air humidity. Everyone immediately mutes me in the game. Clearly, no one wants to hear my desperate cries for help later. But when the system revokes team permissions and administrator functions, everyone is stunned. The game's name is reset to "Magnet Apocalypse".
![[ENG DUB] Four SSS Elites Under My Rule](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
Sophia Smith wakes up as an F-grade duchess bound to four SSS-grade men who all hate her. Forced to survive in a world where women rule and men submit, she uses healing powers and sincerity to change her fate.But Sophia doesn't choose just one. She wants them all.

While others survive by hiding, Evan Ryce survives by "collecting rent." In the last luxury air-conditioned apartment, he faces the chaos of his employees:Maya, an SSS zombie who zaps and dances, a security zombie saving crystal cores to marry his neighbor, and more SSS zombies running a moving and delivery biz with 100% reviews. When 30,000 survivors and his freeloading family show up, Evan declares: "Pay the crystal cores—or my zombies will deal with you!"

Sophia Smith wakes up as an F-grade duchess bound to four SSS-grade men who all hate her. Forced to survive in a world where women rule and men submit, she uses healing powers and sincerity to change her fate.But Sophia doesn't choose just one. She wants them all.

She faked her death. Three years later, Sierra comes back to her own funeral with a new identity.She takes down her unfaithful ex and her best friend who betrayed her. She vows to take herthree-year-old son back. For revenge, she teams up with Julian, the heir to the most powerfulfamily. In a game of power, they go from sworn enemies to each other's only hope. Finally thetruth comes out. They take everything back and find their way back to each other.

After chasing my crush, Edward Lightwood, for ten years, he finally accepted me as his blood bound. But, the day we were taking our eternal vow, his first love, Beth, from the allied clan was murdered by a gang of vampire hunters. He blamed me for her loss and tormented me every day. Exposed me to the eternal sun, pierced me with wooden stakes just not enough to kill me and then locked me up in his basement. Exhausted and heartbroken, I grabbed the oak stake and stabbed my chest in front of him. I killed myself. But, I did not die. I was reborn to the day I had confessed my feelings to Edward. But, this time, I'll not repeat my mistake. I'll stay far away from him.

On New Year's Eve, when every home is lit with reunion lights, a skyscraper in the city center hides a deadly secret. A so-called "Year-End Layoff" turns into a brutal Twelve Zodiac survival game. Finley Kirk, a low-level office worker, is only trying to earn money for his mother's treatment when he is trapped inside. There are no laws, only survival. No colleagues, only prey.Former bosses become monsters, and coworkers turn against each other as the corporate world collapses into chaos.

At nine months pregnant, I was in the final stretch of my term, and my body heavy with a baby due any day. But my husband, Vito Falcone, underboss of the family, had locked me away. He held me in a sterile underground medical room and injected me with a labor suppressant. As I screamed in agony, he coldly told me to endure it. Because his brother's widow, Scarlett, was expected to go into labor at the exact same time. A blood oath he'd made with his late brother declared that the firstborn son would inherit the family's lucrative West Coast territory. "That inheritance belongs to Scarlett's child," he said. "With Daemon gone, she is utterly alone and destitute. You have my love, Alessia. All of it. I just need her to deliver safely. Then it's your turn." The drug was a constant, agonizing torment. I begged him to take me to a hospital. He grabbed me by the throat, forcing me to meet his icy gaze. "Stop the act! I know you're fine. You’re just trying to steal the inheritance." "To get ahead of Scarlett, you'll stop at nothing." My face was ashen. My body convulsed as I managed a desperate whisper. "The baby's coming. I don't care about the inheritance. I just love you, and I want our child to be born safely!" He sneered. "If you were really that innocent, if you had an ounce of love for me, you wouldn't have forced Scarlett to sign that prenup, waiving her child's inheritance rights." "Don't worry, I'll be back for you after she's given birth. you're carrying my own flesh and blood, after all." He kept a vigil outside Scarlett's delivery room all night. It was only after seeing the newborn in her arms that he remembered me. He finally sent his second in command, Marco, to release me. But when Marco finally called, his voice was shaking. "Boss... the missus and the baby... they're gone." In that moment, Vito Falcone shattered

At nine months pregnant, I was in the final stretch of my term, and my body heavy with a baby due any day. But my husband, Vito Falcone, underboss of the family, had locked me away. He held me in a sterile underground medical room and injected me with a labor suppressant. As I screamed in agony, he coldly told me to endure it. Because his brother's widow, Scarlett, was expected to go into labor at the exact same time. A blood oath he'd made with his late brother declared that the firstborn son would inherit the family's lucrative West Coast territory. "That inheritance belongs to Scarlett's child," he said. "With Daemon gone, she is utterly alone and destitute. You have my love, Alessia. All of it. I just need her to deliver safely. Then it's your turn." The drug was a constant, agonizing torment. I begged him to take me to a hospital. He grabbed me by the throat, forcing me to meet his icy gaze. "Stop the act! I know you're fine. You’re just trying to steal the inheritance." "To get ahead of Scarlett, you'll stop at nothing." My face was ashen. My body convulsed as I managed a desperate whisper. "The baby's coming. I don't care about the inheritance. I just love you, and I want our child to be born safely!" He sneered. "If you were really that innocent, if you had an ounce of love for me, you wouldn't have forced Scarlett to sign that prenup, waiving her child's inheritance rights." "Don't worry, I'll be back for you after she's given birth. you're carrying my own flesh and blood, after all." He kept a vigil outside Scarlett's delivery room all night. It was only after seeing the newborn in her arms that he remembered me. He finally sent his second in command, Marco, to release me. But when Marco finally called, his voice was shaking. "Boss... the missus and the baby... they're gone." In that moment, Vito Falcone shattered

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.