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Chase Collins left the mountains to fulfill his master’s wish and to go through an arranged marriage with a beautiful CEO. He discovered the seven girls he used to know had all grown up to be gorgeous beauties, each one sexier than the next. From then onward, he began his journey to the pinnacle of life while surrounded by these beautiful women. What? Did you say you have a PhD from overseas and have amazing medical skills? I’m sorry, I can revive the dead! What? Did you say you can detect treasures and predict fortunes? I’m sorry, I got bored with those skills a long time ago! What? Did you say you’re a martial arts master who can kill a person within ten moves? I’m sorry, I’m unbeatable, but you can go ahead with your bragging! What? Did you say you’re a gorgeous woman with a huge bust and perky butt, and you’re a talented artist?

Within 30 days, Niccolò Romano and I registered for divorce 18 times. The first time, Niccolò's adopted sister stole my research results, but he hired a lawyer to fight for her. Afterwards, he held me and coaxed, "If something happens to Lia, no one will dare to hire her in the future. I'm just helping her." The second time, while my plane was in distress, he was traveling around the world with Lia. His tone was helpless: "Lia has depended on me since she was little. I only look after her like a younger sister." The last time, Lia was pregnant with a child no one would claim, and he took responsibility for it. Faced with my accusation, he just sighed, a bit tired: "Lia's career is just starting to take off. If someone blackmails her with the child, her life will be ruined." "You're a woman too. Can't you understand?" This time, I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I calmly signed my name on the divorce agreement that he had signed in a fit of pique some time ago. Then I called my professor: "I've thought it over. I'm willing to go with you to Iceland to do research."

She has been killed six times. Always by the same hands. Always by the men fated to love her. Across six lifetimes and five shattered worlds, she dies the same death — not by strangers, not by enemies, but by the one soul the universe itself bound to hers. The Emotionless Emperor kills her on palace marble. The Strongest Under Heaven beheads her at a cliff's edge. The Star Emperor pierces her with starlight in a collapsing galaxy. The King of the Dead strangles her while weeping. The Dragon Monarch crushes her in hands that were meant to hold her. And in her sixth life, broken beyond grief, she simply stops breathing on her own. She wakes before the God of Destiny — and learns the truth that destroyed everything. The God grants her one final life. One world where all five powers exist. One chance to choose differently. She enters her seventh life with no intention of choosing anything — except survival. She is eighteen, razor-sharp, and carrying six lifetimes of grief behind serene eyes. When The Iron Sovereign, The Heavenly Saint, The Celestial Emperor, The Eclipse Pontiff, and The Crimson Dragon King all look at her across the same room for the first time, she already knows their faces from her nightmares. She doesn't run. She plans. But the universe has its own agenda. And the five men who murdered her across time are starting to remember. The question was never whether they would love her again. The question is whether love — and the people carrying it — can survive what it cost before.

I woke up inside a novel, and not even as an important character. I became a pretty background extra in a smut novel. My brother, however, was the only normal person in the entire story. His character setting was the one man the soft, delicate heroine could never win over. He was the cold, unattainable Prince Charming she could never conquer. When the heroine cried and confessed her love, he was studying. When she offered him her whole heart and body, he was busy starting a company. When she spiraled into scandals and nightlife, he was already a billionaire, calm and untouchable. I thought he would live a quiet, ascetic life forever. Until one night, I walked in on him at midnight… holding a piece of clothing I recognized all too well, murmuring a name over and over, a name so familiar that my scalp tingled.

I was just a nobody actor, killing time reading a trashy novel where the Omega side-character had my name. His only purpose? To be a disposable prop for the Alpha ML, a walking, talking disaster who gets his life ruined in 50 chapters flat. I hated him. I hated his pathetic weakness. Then I died. And I woke up as him. Now, I'm that cannon fodder. I'm in the body of the fool I despised, on the eve of his public humiliation at the hands of the novel's god-like Alpha, Huo Yan. The worst part? I never finished the book. I know how I'm supposed to die, but I have no idea how this story ends. My only guide is a faint voice in my head, a "Survival System" that gives me one simple, terrifying rule: Don't attract the protagonist. So I have a plan. Be invisible. Be boring. Stay away from Huo Yan. But I messed up. In one desperate moment to save my own skin, I did something unexpected. I showed a spark of talent the original "me" never had. And the Alpha, the man who should be looking at the female lead, is now looking at me. His scent, a predator's frost, hunts me in crowded rooms. His eyes, dark and possessive, follow my every move. He cornered me after a gala, his voice a low growl against my ear. "You are not the Omega from the script," he whispered, his touch branding my skin. "You are a liar. And I will peel back every layer until I find the truth." The plot is broken. The Alpha is obsessed. And my survival system is flashing red. I came here to avoid my death, but now I'm terrified I might just be the reason this story becomes a tragedy.

I jump off the seventh floor on my wedding day. Why? Because everyone has abandoned me to pick up a fake heiress from the airport, my fiancé included. I expect to see them riddled with heartbreak and regret after my death. However, my father merely shakes his head stoically and looks at my body while saying I was too willful. My mother bites her lip and sighs in relief. My fiancé, Magnus Gilmore, shields the fake heiress. He's afraid she'll see the horrible state of my body. The fake heiress is scared to tears at this, and everyone crowds around her to console her. No one cares whether I'm still breathing while lying in a pool of blood. I'm stunned when I see this, but I soon laugh self-deprecatingly. When I open my eyes again, I've been brought back seven years in the past. It's the day I've just stepped foot at home.