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... ir bodies clashed in mid-air.

Aestrea’s fist crashed against Cecilia’s elbow in a deadlock.

Their feet slammed against branches and snow-covered ground, leaping from place to place, each movement sharp and violent.

WHAM!

Cecilia ducked low, spinning around and throwing a roundhouse kick at his head.

Aestrea lifted his arm, blocking the strike with his forearm.

The impact sent a harsh jolt through his body, but he didn’t move back. His hand flew up, ...

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The smell of blood invaded my nostrils. I watched helplessly as the woman standing over me raised her sword. I was completely drained, I had no mana left, no items, nothing. As the crimson tendrils held me down by my arms and legs, all I could do was wait for my death.

As the sword drew near, I felt the last bit of courage I had disappear. I was going to die. Alone. In this god forsaken place filled with evil. And for what? To protect those ‘friends’? The same people who mocked me, took advantage of, and used me?

Oh, who am I trying to fool? I was here only because of my own greed. Because I wanted to be useful to someone. Because I wanted to that group to need me. To value me. To have a reason to keep me around. How naïve I was, thinking that power would grant those wishes. All it did was help build a wall between me and everyone else.

The sword approached. I saw the purple light reflect off the sword’s blade. After everything I went through, I hadn’t expected my death to be by the hands of another player. I saw her smile, but this time I didn’t think it was beautiful. It was an ugly smile because it was genuine. She was enjoying watching me die. She was enjoying killing me.

The sword struck my chest and pierced my heart. I let out a scream of pain and agony. The pain was so real, all of this was so real. It shouldn’t be, but it was. What should have been a simple game had become my new reality – all of our new reality. A reality filled with magic, war, blood, and death.

My vision darkened as the pain slowly faded. I felt the last of my vitality leave my body. It felt cold. I wondered to myself, when would I stop being? When would my thoughts disappear?

Soon, I saw those words I feared for all this time appear before me. “DEATH”, in the pale blue font the game always used. They remained suspended in the air for several seconds. It was over. After a long time of fighting, grinding, and exploring, it was finally over. I had died. This was the end of my story.

Suddenly, words before me shifted and changed into something different. I took a shallow breath as I heard a faint heartbeat.

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Sharon was an ordinary person, while her husband, Wallace Harris, was a promising and handsome man. His family was one of the most prestigious and wealthiest families in New York City. Being able to marry Wallace was an accident.

Throughout their three years of marriage, Wallace had never slept with Sharon. His family also kept persuading him to divorce Sharon.

It was the birthday party of the Harris family’s old matriarch, and all youngsters of the Harris family had given the most expensive gifts possible to make the old lady happy—everyone but Sharon. She asked to borrow money from Madam Harris for the old housekeeper, Uncle Smith, as he had no money to pay for his medical treatment. But as expected, the Harris family humiliated her when she requested.

“The Harris family has never had a poor relative like you. Don’t you ever appear in front of me again! Wallace should’ve married Crystal. She’s certainly a young lady who’s worthy of marrying into our family!” said Madam Harris.

“Please know your place and get out of here. Don’t stay at our house anymore. How can Wallace’s grandfather be so foolish to marry a poor, useless woman like you to my son?!” said June, Wallace’s mother.

“It’s just a few million dollars, yet you’re so poor that you need to borrow from our family. How can a woman like you deserve to be with Wallace? If it were Crystal, she definitely wouldn’t have embarrassed us so much!”

That night, Wallace handed Sharon a bank card, which contained millions of dollars. “The company is developing, so I don’t have much cash. You can use this to help Uncle Smith.”

Facing the Harris family’s hostility, Wallace stated, “Since I have married her, she is my responsibility. Regardless of her being rich or poor, Sharon is my wife.”

It wasn’t until a stranger approached Sharon one day. Only then did Sharon know that she was the daughter of a top prestigious family, who was eligible to receive assets worth at least ten billion.

She suddenly owned the largest company in New York and a bank card that contained hundreds of millions of ‘pocket money.’

In the blink of an eye, her identity had changed. She was no longer the poor daughter-in-law that wasn’t favored by the Harris family. Instead, she had become the most prestigious person in New York!

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