Leveling Up System Novels & Stories

During rehearsal for the school arts gala, I got word from the school that I had been chosen to give the commencement speech as the outstanding graduate representative. Gideon immediately grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the grove behind campus to celebrate. The moment I stepped into the trees, strange floating messages appeared in front of my eyes. "Don't go in there. Gideon prepared sulfuric acid for you. He's planning to destroy your face so you'll lose your chance to speak on stage." "Three years ago, Gideon helped his childhood friend Lucy steal your identity and take your place as the long-lost daughter of the York family. Now he wants to ruin your face so you'll never have the chance to return to your real family." "After the attack, you'll endure countless reconstructive surgeries, only to be killed when the fake heiress switches your medication." "Meanwhile, Gideon marries the impostor, and together they seize the entire York family's fortune. Your parents end up homeless." "Go to the main stage right now. Let Mrs. York see you. This is your only chance to reclaim your identity." … Not far ahead, Gideon urged me to hurry. I looked at the messages hovering in front of me and stopped in my tracks, suddenly unsure of what to do.

A flicker of hope, a spark amidst the neon grime of New Shanghai. Anya, a slave to the Volkov Mafia, had long buried her emotions under layers of calloused defiance. Years of servitude had carved a burning desire for vengeance into her soul. Then, a whisper of rebellion arrived – a message smuggled in a package, hinting at a Volkov family secret. Anya's heart, long numbed, stuttered awake. This wasn't just a chance to escape; it was a weapon. A weapon to dismantle the empire that had stolen her life, her family, everything. But the path to freedom was a razor's edge. Fear gnawed at her, a constant companion in the Volkov's watchful gaze, their merciless enforcers lurking in every shadow. Yet, a flicker of something else bloomed – a strange, almost forgotten warmth, a sliver of the person she used to be. Could she trust it? As Anya navigated the labyrinth of lies and high-tech security, a deeper truth unfolded. This Volkov secret wasn't just about her escape; it was a key to exposing a far-reaching conspiracy, one that could reshape the city's criminal web. Suddenly, Anya's burning desire for revenge transformed. It wasn't just about herself anymore. It was about a sliver of justice, a chance to dismantle a system that preyed on the weak. But with this newfound purpose came a terrifying weight of responsibility. Was she strong enough to risk everything, to ignite a war she might not survive? The weight of human emotions – fear, anger, and a desperate yearning for freedom – threatened to suffocate her. The price of vengeance was steep, and Anya had to decide if she had the strength to pay it.

During the New Year holidays, I'm hooked to an IV in an ER ward because of my Pathological Lie Aversion, which is a condition that makes me vomit whenever someone lies to me. Meanwhile, Landon Yale shows up at a public event with his female best friend, Eunice Parker, in a high-profile manner. Clad in the Ice Queen championship costume that I've worn during the time I won my championship, Eunice whines to Landon cutely that she wants to ride on his shoulders. With a doting smile on his face, Landon replies, "Alright, alright. You're my queen tonight. If only that figure-skating numbskull is as sweet and understanding as you…" Thanks to my Pathological Lie Aversion, I keep vomiting the whole time. After taking off the IV needle, I rush toward the venue in the sports car that I've planned on giving to Landon. In the stark silence that follows, I hurl the divorce agreement in Landon's face. "Happy New Year, Landon Yale. By the way, here's an announcement. From now on, I'll be retiring as a figure skater. On top of that, I will be retracting all sponsorships that I've bestowed upon Yale Group." I want Landon to know that he can never afford to pay the price of offending me.

On the very first day of college, I became Kingsley University's infamous jerk magnet. It didn't matter whether it was the polished upperclassman everyone adored or the rebellious campus bad boy; any guy who went on even one date with me would dump me the very next day for my roommate, Lucinda Lane. Lucinda quickly became the untouchable dream girl every elite guy was obsessed with, effortlessly managing her ever-growing roster of admirers. She'd hand me another carefully curated list of perfect dating prospects every single day. "Girl, don't be afraid of getting hurt. There's always a better one waiting. You have to be brave enough to chase true love." I believed her. So, I kept going after the next guy. This time, I had gotten a sweet younger student with puppy-dog charm. Then, he dumped me, too. For Lucinda. Just when I was at my lowest, a stream of floating comments suddenly appeared in front of my eyes. "The heroine is incredible. She's stolen so many men already! I've hated that evil supporting girl forever. Why does some country bumpkin get to have all these guys falling for her?" "I wish I had the heroine's Affection Transfer System. That way, my ex wouldn't have been stolen by that woman." "I can't wait to see what the next male lead is like. I'm literally just sitting here and waiting for her to steal another man." That was when it finally clicked. I'd been working unpaid as stocking labor for her dating pool this whole time.

Thanks to my addiction to the stories regarding true and fake heiresses, I'm afflicted with strong paranoia that everyone is out there to get me. For some reason, I keep thinking that I'm a fake heiress who will eventually get kicked out of my home. In order to avoid getting set up, I stay on my guard every day. Not only do I hire some people to act as the actual heiresses and visit my home from time to time, but I also have them put on performances with me while clutching paternity test reports and heirloom pendants as props. On the day I'm done rehearsing all of the webnovel tropes, a pure and innocent young woman comes knocking on the door. Interestingly enough, she has live comments surrounding her. As she shows the pendant and a paternity test report, she starts crying sadly. "Mom, Dad, I'm your actual daughter!" The live comments begin spamming relentlessly. "I'm tired of looking at pure and innocent female leads! A manipulative true heiress, on the other hand, is a breath of fresh air! Not only does she intend to regain everything that belongs to her, but she also vows to teach the fake heiress a lesson she will never forget!" "Just look at how amazing her acting and her expression are! Her parents will definitely fall for her excuse, hook, line, and sinker!" Amid the live comments' cheering, my parents just nod thoughtfully. "The actress who's playing this role today is quite talented."

What if an omega servant can hear the inner wolf of the ruthless Alpha King—when no one else can, not even the king himself? Will it be a secret that save her life… or destroy her?

Lorcé Callora, An eighteen-year old, aiming to go to college. Of course to study hard and become successful someday. Mysteriously, the academic girl who always pass gets rejected by every school she applied in. She was devastated until she received an unexpected admission email that changed the direction of the life she thought she would pursue.

Tonight, my wife was working overtime at the office. I was about to enjoy some alone time playing video games. The Tesla car application on my phone sent an alarm notification: [Abnormal vibrations detected in the car. Please check.] Following the location sent, I arrived at the parking lot below my wife's company. I saw her sweating profusely in the car with her fitness instructor. My mind went blank. Suddenly, a mechanical voice rang out in my mind: [Congratulations! You have been linked to the Cuckold King system. Complete the task, and you will receive $100 million as a reward!]

On the day I married the most feared woman in the underworld, words suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Marry her and you're dead! She's actually in love with your stepfather. This whole thing is a trap to make him swoop in and steal the bride! [Run now while you still can. Otherwise, she'll auction off your virginity tonight in front of everyone and let her rich girlfriends have their turn with you! [Three days from now, after she's had you beaten within an inch of your life, she'll tell everyone you died of a sudden illness and dump your body in the outskirts for the wolves!] Last time around, I bolted the moment I saw those messages. That was a mistake. I got grabbed by Yvette Sinclair's enemies and brutalized. Meanwhile, my stepfather took my place in the wedding car and became the crime boss's pampered husband. After narrowly escaping death and finally making it home, he was already standing in the doorway with tears in his eyes. "I know you hate me," he said, "but why did you knock me out and throw me into another woman's bed?" My mother didn't even let me explain. She said I had humiliated the family, and she threw me out without a second thought. Told everyone she'd never had a son like me. My sister, the one who had always doted on me, stood there and watched me burn alive. Then she locked the door and walked away. It wasn't until after I died that I found out the truth. My stepfather had written those messages himself. Then I opened my eyes again, and I was back to the day of the wedding. The same words were already floating in front of me. I watched my stepfather fuss over my tie with a warm, satisfied look on his face. I grabbed the kettle and poured boiling water all over him. This time, I was going to give him a taste of his own medicine!

My husband's secretary, Regina Wade, claims she is a lucky charm. She wins every lottery ticket she buys and even wins three bets in a row. In truth, she is just transferring her bad luck onto me. In my previous life, she confidently invites the entire company to gamble, and everyone walks away with huge winnings. Well, everyone except me, as I lose everything. Regina throws money around in the casino, indulging her vanity, while my face rots and my body becomes riddled with illness. She conducts livestreams to auction off her good luck, while I get hit by cars every time I go out and almost die from infection during surgery. When I ask my husband, Jack Burns, to investigate her, he points at me angrily and scolds, "Ariel Nichols, stop blaming your bad luck on Reggie. You are just jealous that she is lucky. With such vicious thoughts, you deserve to get hit!" Three days later, Regina wins a trillion-dollar gamble and gains boundless wealth. I, on the other hand, bleed from inside and die suddenly. Even until my death, I never figure out why I have such terrible luck. When I open my eyes again, I return to the day Regina first claims she is a lucky charm.