My Vengeful Husbands Demand A Remarriage

Chapter 4

Word Count: 813 | Released on: Today at 18:51

She forced herself to drink half a bottle of the icy glacial water, the cold

large, ornate pot containing the withered, dead hus

ked in her m

, she tried to remember the feeling, the flow of energy she used to command in her

ght appeared at her fingertips. It was like a dy

plant rem

ntense dizziness washed over her, and a sha

ody is in a state of starvation. Forcibly attempting to use abilities has re

reality was stark and unavoidable. Without a high-level energy source

r something far more basic. She needed to buy food, or she

the star-brain. Her gaze fell upon

cess. An entire wall of limited-edition couture gowns, diamo

bies. The star-brain immediately scanned it. Korm

spend a fortune on a useless bag but wouldn't spare fift

sic hacking skills she'd learned in the apocalypse, she routed her IP address throug

n photos, and posted them with a short, cold description. She pric

rned to Shane with the two nutrient p

did you get those?" he demanded, his voice laced w

were different, Shane," he said quietly. "The usual madness w

p. She wants to watch us b

Instead, he quietly slipped one of the nutrient pa

sting with a mixture of hunger and anxiety. The listings ha

message. The buyer's ID was "Glitter_Queen

cheap unless they're stolen. Or unless you're tha

tion was so toxic it was even affecting the second-han

business English. "I am the private assistant to a corporate executive.

ttitude softened slightly, but then came the lowball offer

made Janna's knuckles turn white as she clenched her fist. But the gnawin

typed her reply. "Deal.

e. A notification appeared on the screen: 5,000 credits

her li

Chapter End

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

My Vengeful Husbands Demand A Remarriage

Zhao Da Fantasy

“I survived ten years in the apocalypse, only to transmigrate into the body of the most despised woman in the Galactic Empire. When I opened my eyes, I was holding a bloody whip, straddling a beastman husband the original owner had just tortured. The mechanical system in my head immediately issued a death sentence. "In two months, your trial marriage ends. Your six abused husbands will be legally permitted to tear you apart." The original host was an absolute monster. She beat them, starved them, stole their meager military stipends for luxury goods, and even sent two of them to a deadly alien warzone just to impress her high-society friends. Now, I was left with her massive debts, a blocked power core, and the terrifying reality of six powerful, vengeful beastmen plotting my murder in the basement. I inherited all her sickening sins, and the crushing weight of their justifiable hatred felt like a suffocating nightmare. How was I supposed to survive when the people I lived with were just waiting for the legal countdown to snap my neck? But an apocalypse survivor doesn't just roll over and die. I pawned the original's useless designer bags, bought the highest-grade nutrient solutions, and called my would-be murderers into the living room. "I know you hate me, and you have every right to," I told them calmly. "We are getting a divorce."”