Why Is Pulp Fiction Called Pulp Fiction の小説・ストーリー

My girlfriend found out that my water bottle cost $30,000. She then demanded I buy her father an $8 million luxury apartment in the city center. I politely refused. She said furiously, “Don’t be so stingy! He’ll be your father-in-law someday. What’s wrong with getting a head start on being a good son-in-law?” She even compiled all of our expenses during our relationship into a PowerPoint presentation and demanded we split everything. “If splitting everything equally is too much trouble for you, then just cover it all. You can afford it! “My family and I have already discussed it. I’ll give you a one-dollar gift. It means you're my only one. How perfect is that?” When she noticed I was silent, she played her final card. “If you can’t agree, then let’s forget about getting married. “You’ll never see me, your darling baby, ever again!” I looked at the detailed list of expenses on the screen. It even included $2 she had spent on a bus ride to see me. I smiled and said, “Sure. I’ll give you a $143-million gift, with more romantic meaning. And I’ll buy that apartment for your father right now.”

On the day the SAT results are revealed, the fake heiress, Layla Sanders, colluded with our homeroom teacher, Richard Hoffman, to report me for cheating during the exam. When I stared at both copies of the exam papers that showed the same steps and formulas, I couldn't defend myself at all. In order to preserve Layla's pride, my own parents actually forced me to admit to stealing the exam questions in advance. Then, they had me forcibly admitted into a mental asylum. The Sanders family claimed that I had gone crazy just so they could keep this particular skeleton sealed in the closet. They abandoned me, letting me be tormented endlessly in the asylum. When I finally escaped from the asylum, I died in a car crash that was meticulously staged by Layla. Only on the verge of my death did I finally realize that the so-called "blood is thicker than water" mentality was nothing compared to a tear shed by Layla. The moment I open my eyes again, I've gotten reborn in the exam hall. This time, I choose to submit my exam paper without anything scribbled on it. I'd like to see just how someone with a total of zero points can possibly copy off the so-called top scorer of SAT.

I'm Jax Ryder, heir to the most powerful investment group in Veridian City. I had just returned from studying abroad. My father, worried I might impulsively marry the wrong woman, arranged a marriage for me with Everly, the heiress to the up-and-coming Sinclair Group. It was strictly a business arrangement. But that didn't mean I intended to just go through the motions. At the very least, I had to personally bid on the mansion that would serve as our marital home. And so, I found myself at the annual Starlight Charity Gala. When the legendary prime real estate, the "Siren's Cove Estate," was presented as the final auction item, I raised my paddle. Just as the gavel was about to fall, an arrogant voice cut through the room. "What right does a nobody like you have to bid? Step aside." The grand hall fell silent, the only sound the frantic clicking of camera shutters from all corners. I turned my head. A man in a flashy, sequined suit stood there. He swirled the champagne in his glass, his posture reeking of arrogance. Before I could even speak, the auctioneer brought the gavel down. "Sold! Congratulations to Mr. Brian Vance on winning the 'Siren's Cove Estate'!" I frowned, a flicker of anger rising within me. "The bidding wasn't over." "That's against the rules." Brian sneered. He looked me up and down, his eyes filled with contempt. "The rules?" He curled his lip. "Listen up. I'm Everly Sinclair's favorite stepbrother. In Veridian City, what I say goes." I had to stop myself from laughing out loud. This was interesting. My fiancée's stepbrother. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. "Everly, your dear brother just snatched the marital home I'd picked out. What are you going to do about it?"

The night before the study abroad application deadline, the class group chat blew up. [Oh my God, Ryan, why did you switch your application to the UK? Weren’t you supposed to go to France with Emma Bennett?] Ryan Hawthorne replied like it was nothing. [Yeah, I changed it. She has my login anyway.] [Once she sees it, she’ll switch too. She always follows me around. She can’t function without me.] I stood there with my phone in my hand, my mind going completely blank. Scattered across the floor, half tucked between my open suitcases, was the gift I had prepared especially for Ryan. I left the group chat, threw the gift away, and never opened the application portal again. What he did not know was this. He could give up the future we were supposed to share for Sophie Quinn. And I could give him up too. I could choose my own future without ever looking back. All those late nights, all those years of work, had never been only for him.

Drevan Valkor is the Darkmoon pack's Invincible Alpha. This makes him grow arrogant and believe himself to be untouchable. Even when he drags a knife across his own hand, the wound closes almost instantly. He laughs at me and says, "Kyra, you gasp for breath after walking just a few steps. What a pathetic, sickly burden." What he doesn't know is that a curse forces me to suffer every bit of pain he should be feeling. The only cure is for him to acknowledge me and complete the mate bond willingly. I endure three years of his pain, his cold shoulder treatment, and his constant entanglement with my "healthy and lively" stepsister. I tell myself that if I can survive until the mate bonding ceremony, I will finally be free. But that hope dies on the night of the ceremony. Before the entire pack, he pulls my stepsister, Belle Wynter, into his arms and kicks me off the altar. "I reject Kyra Wynter as my mate," he declares. "My pack doesn't need a weakling like her." That is the moment my conscience dies. If that's how it is, then he can't blame me for choosing the worst possible cure.

After three years of marriage, we became the couple everyone in the city envied. I truly believed Edmund and I would be happy forever—until my sister, Avery, returned. Everything changed. My husband’s constant favoritism toward her and my son’s growing coldness left me unable to carry on. On Christmas Day, I walked into the courthouse. When the judge asked me one last time if I wanted to fight for my son’s custody, I simply shook my head. “Your Honor, I waive my right to custody, and I agree to the divorce.” Out of our seven years of marriage, two had been spent trapped in endless legal battles. I was utterly exhausted. This time, I chose to let go. I dialed a number and called my old professor, Robert, overseas. “Professor Robert, that research project you mentioned before... I’m in.”

The cocktail hour had just ended when I picked up a video call in the bridal suite. It was Ethan, three years from now. By then, time‑travel tech had matured enough to let him contact me three years into the past. After enough specific details, I finally believed it. The man on the screen really was Ethan, three years older. I rubbed my aching ankle and pouted at him through the screen. "Ethan, smiling at all these guests is exhausting. But the second I remember I actually married you today, I'm happy all over again." "We're still happy three years from now, right?" He was leaning back against a headboard, and he didn't answer. His face was flat and unreadable. Then I heard it: a woman's voice from his end, low and breathy, asking to be kissed. I froze for a second, then covered my mouth and laughed. "Is that future me? In broad daylight? Get a room." Ethan turned the camera into the bed. My maid of honor was lying there, naked, sprawled across his chest. Her body was covered in hickeys. He looked straight at me as I started to break, and his voice didn't shift at all. "As soon as the reception ended, I told you I had a client meeting. I went to her room instead." "Jo, now you know what's coming. The guests haven't gone home yet. If you want a divorce tonight, you can have one. Up to you."

On my ninety-ninth rebirth, I stopped fighting with the real heiress, Lily Hart. I accepted every false accusation she threw at me and let my relationships with my two childhood friends fall apart. I told myself it was fine. At least Wayne Fall was still on my side. That lasted until Lily's birthday gala, when her gown suddenly slipped and nearly left her exposed in front of everyone. Wayne pulled her into his arms and, for the first time, turned his anger on me. "Do you even remember who you are? You're not a Hart by blood. What makes you think you can compete with Lily?" What he didn't know was that every time I tried to expose Lily, everyone I cared about died in horrifying ways. In the first life, my childhood friend, Adrian Cole, was crushed beneath a freight truck, his skull shattered. In the second, my cousin, Ryan Hayes, fell from a skyscraper and was torn apart on impact. In the third, my fiancé, Wayne, was trapped in a blazing fire and burned alive... Adrian and Ryan threw me into the estate's artificial lake. I couldn't swim. Water flooded my lungs until tears streamed down my face, but no matter how desperately I begged for help, neither of them reacted. By the time my consciousness finally faded away, someone dragged me out of the water. Then I heard them talking. "Looks like she's finally learned her lesson. At least you won't have to keep hypnotizing her anymore, Wayne. I was starting to worry all those pills would fry her brain." "There'll definitely be some cognitive damage... But we didn't have a choice. Lily's the Harts' real daughter. If she refused to give in, she'd end up being pushed out of the family sooner or later." So, the countless "rebirths" I'd experienced were nothing more than an illusion. I'd simply been hypnotized. But I never needed to cling to a place in the Hart family. I had a family of my own too.

After eight years of love, Liz Smith went from being the woman Zac Lincoln once saw as the love he could never forget, to someone he couldn’t wait to get rid of. She had spent three years trying to hold on, giving everything she had. But once her last bit of affection ran dry, she finally gave up and walked away. On the day they broke up, Zac sneered coldly and said, “Liz, I’ll be waiting for you to come crawling back, begging me to take you back.” But what came instead wasn’t a plea—it was news that she was getting married. Furious, he called her. “Are you done with your little game?” A deep male voice answered from the other end. “Mr. Lincoln, my fiancée is in the shower. She can’t come to the phone right now.” Zac let out a bitter laugh and hung up. He convinced himself it was just another one of Liz’s tricks—playing hard to get. It wasn’t until her wedding day, when he saw her in a white gown, holding a bouquet, walking down the aisle toward another man, that reality finally hit him. Liz had truly let him go. Like a madman, he pushed through the crowd and rushed to her. “Liz, I know I was wrong. Please don’t marry someone else. Please.” Liz lifted her dress and walked right past him. “Didn’t you say you and Xena were perfect for each other? Why are you kneeling at my wedding now, Mr. Lincoln?”

At our wedding, Don Marco DeLuca, my fiance, answers a phone call. That's when his expression changes drastically. He then looks at me, his eyes filled with pain and conflict, two of the emotions that I've never seen plaguing him before. "Lina, Fiora will be flying this afternoon. She will leave Novaris permanently. This will be our last time seeing each other. I… I need to send her off." As I rub my thumb against the diamond ring which has just gotten slotted onto my ring finger, I just gaze at Marco quietly. "Are you sure you want to go see her off?" Marco's voice is trembling at this rate. He dares not even look me in the eye. "Lina, I swear that you'll be the only woman for me from now on. We'll get married, and we'll have children together. Life will be perfect for us." After that, he turns on his heel and walks away without looking back. He doesn't see the way I've crumpled onto the floor, where a puddle of blood has formed beneath me. My papa kisses me on the forehead. "My darling principessa, are you sure you want to break up with Marco?" I close my eyes and nod in response. I don't want Marco nor this farce of a marriage contract anymore.