

Nina Grant has spent five years of marriage chasing the highest honor in dance, a promise made to Ethan Blake’s mother before she was ever truly accepted as his wife. The finish line is finally close. But the marriage that was supposed to be waiting at the end of it has gone quiet in ways Nina can’t name. Ethan is there. He is warm enough.Something essential is simply no longer present in the way he looks at her. Nina keeps dancing because stopping feels like admitting it. But the music is harder to hear over the silence between them.
![[ENG DUB] Horror Game Husband Gone Soft](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
Toe Bean's best friend has sent her a romance game that's apparently "very popular, features a white-haired and red-eyed male lead, and allows verbal communication". So, Toe puts on a pair of smart glasses and begins her immersive journey excitedly. But thanks to an error her friend has made, Toe has actually entered an immersive horror game named "Manor of Mists". Relying solely on her desire to redecorate the manor and her misunderstanding toward romance games, Toe is able to transform the creepy manor into a cozy-looking home. Not only has she brought peace to the malicious spirits haunting the manor, but she has also converted the boss, who's supposedly a cold-hearted murder machine, into a perfect boyfriend who acts cute, knows how to cook, and is willing to travel through dimensions for her sake.

My daughter, Ruby Pratt, has leukemia. She needs a bone marrow transplant—and fast. Out of everyone in the family, my husband, Dan Pratt, was the only match. I begged him for an entire month before he finally agreed to go through with the donation. But on the morning of the surgery, he went completely off the grid. I stood outside the hospital all day, waiting. No calls. No texts. Not even a shadow. That night, his childhood friend, Valerie Kinder, posted on Instagram. In the photo, Dan was holding Valerie's hand with one arm and carrying her young son with the other—on a beach in Lulabo City. The caption read: [Soaking up the sun! Dan cleared his whole schedule to join us on a month-long trek and we finally made it to the coast! My little boy said Uncle Dan made his ocean dream come true. Pure joy!] My heart splintered. While I was drowning in worry over my daughter, he was off playing happy family with them. I wiped my tears and typed a comment beneath her post: [Not 'Uncle.' From now on, he's your son's father.] That night, I finally got a call from him. "Babe, don't be like this," Dan said. "You're not being fair. "Valerie's son has been bullied at school for not having a dad. I couldn't stand seeing him hurt, so I took them on this trip. It was supposed to help him heal. "I'll catch the first flight back tomorrow and head straight to the hospital to donate the marrow. I promise." I hung up with a bitter smile. The next morning, Dan rushed into the hospital room. But all he found on the bed was a death certificate.

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Pack’s Distinguished Service Award. Three hours after I died, my parents, my brother, and my mate were just wrapping up the graduation party they’d thrown for my sister. While my sister, Ella, was posting a cozy family photo on Instagram, I was locked in our basement, using my tongue to swipe on my phone and call for help. The only person who answered was my mate, Ryan. All he said was, "Sophie, cut the drama. Ella's graduation party is important. Enough with the tantrums!" This was the ninety-ninth time they had let me down. And the last. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my lungs still. They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they taught me a lesson, I’d come crawling back. But they didn't know. I was home the whole time. I was already dead.

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Pack’s Distinguished Service Award. Three hours after I died, my parents, my brother, and my mate were just wrapping up the graduation party they’d thrown for my sister. While my sister, Ella, was posting a cozy family photo on Instagram, I was locked in our basement, using my tongue to swipe on my phone and call for help. The only person who answered was my mate, Ryan. All he said was, "Sophie, cut the drama. Ella's graduation party is important. Enough with the tantrums!" This was the ninety-ninth time they had let me down. And the last. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my lungs still. They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they taught me a lesson, I’d come crawling back. But they didn't know. I was home the whole time. I was already dead.

After I was caught in a dockside explosion, I was bound to a Survival Program. It gave me twenty-five years and four designated targets. If even one target’s Love Score or bond score reached 100%, I could wake up in my real world. But I failed all four. Because every target I tried to reach eventually turned toward Sophia Lane, the heroine of this world. They called my pain a performance. They called my tears manipulation. They said I was only pretending to break down so they would choose me over Sophia. But if they never loved me, why did they lose control when my mission failed and I chose to leave this world for good?

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.

Wealthy heiress Sophia Yates dated poor college student Jack Young for four years. After her family went bankrupt, she broke up with him and got engaged to a playboy. Five years later, Jack returned as a tech mogul and found her working as a waitress.He tried to get close, but she misunderstood and kept pushing him away.

Vincenzo Moretti was Stonehaven’s youngest financial titan— a tech mogul commanding a multibillion-dollar empire, gracing the covers of business magazines as a modern legend. But only a select few knew the truth: he was also the ruthless Don controlling the East Coast mafia. To him, wealth and power were mere chips in a game. And I? I was just another pawn used to stabilize a fragile family alliance. In our ten-year marriage, he slept with my friends, my coworkers… every single person I once trusted. Then one morning, as I took our one-month-old baby for a routine checkup, Sienna Newton, his latest mistress, ran me down with her car. The baby screamed endlessly. I begged her to take us to the hospital, and when Vincenzo arrived, he looked at me with cold disdain. “Isabella,” he sneered, “when did you learn to stage accidents? “Even if you died here, I wouldn’t bat an eye.” Then he took Sienna’s hand and walked away without a backward glance. By the time I was rushed to the hospital, the child in my arms had suffocated. Upon hearing the news, my mother suffered a heart attack. She didn’t survive. I slipped into a coma for two days. When I finally woke up, I found out that Vincenzo never visited. Instead, his father, Renato Moretti, the true king of the Moretti empire, stood by my bedside. I looked at him calmly and said, “Let me go. Whatever I owed your family, I’ve repaid in full with two lives.” Later, that same Don who had once looked down on me knelt before me, begging me to come home. But I was no longer the woman who waited, silent and broken, for his change of heart. I was the Don’s wife who turned away and never looked back.

In her past life, Rosie was used as a luck tool. Her parents drained her fortune, doted on Willa, and cast her aside. She died on the streets, mourned only by Brad and Queenie, who were dragged down with her. Back to life again, she runs into Brad's arms with a smile. "Dad, need a daughter? One who brings luck and fortune."