Creator meets Creation

[Welcome to the Generic Main Character Creator Version 2.0]

[Don't you know this feeling? Your beloved main character suddenly develops morals and those pesky feelings like empathy. Fret not, we can help. We can turn anyone into the cold-blooded killing machine they always were meant to be.]

[But don't trust our word alone, take a word from our satisfied customer. Little Jimmy or better known as Ultra_Lord_Of_Destruction has enjoyed our services for 5 years now.]

Interviewer: "Hi Jimmy, what was your impression after receiving your new and upgraded MC?"

Jimmy: "Hello, I am Jimmy and I am 12. My main character did not want to murder the entire world, and that was sooo boring. I wanted a genocidal maniac, not such a lame adult."

Interviewer:"Yeah, Little Jimmy, everyone knows that feeling. We all want our hero to be the best version of themselves"

Jimmy: "Ever since I have been little, I've dreamed about a badass warrior who kills everyone without batting an eyelid. When I grow up I just wanna be just as cool as he is."

Jimmy: "In the newest chapter, he kills another clan, not even the dogs are spared. Isn't he too kewl? Like swing, swoosh the heads are rolling, a river of blood is flowing through the streets. Everything is dead. Our hero Big Jimmy has no mercy for his enemies."

Jimmy:" Big Jimmy, Kill, KILL, KILL, KILL EVERYONE, KILL THEM ALL, SLAUGHTER THEM NONBELIEVERS, WHO DARED TO STAND IN YOUR WAY AND CALLED YOUR OUTFIT UGLY. DROWN THIS WORLD IN BLOOD."

"BOW BEFORE ME MORTALS. BEG FOR YOUR FILTHY LIVES. LICK MY FEET YOU PATHETIC SCUM. I WILL RIP OUT YOUR EYES. I. AM. NOT. A. POOPYHEAD."

[We do apologize for stopping the interview there. Jimmy continued to rant for about 2 hours before having to go to school. Against his best wishes, our dear successful author was dragged there by his furious mother.]

[As you can see, our beloved customer truly loves his craft. His third book "Big Jimmy saves the Multiverse" is truly the best cultivation novel ever written.]

These damn ads said the author trying to "borrow" a main character to use for his very original story. Borrow in this case meant steal, and steal in this case meant downloading it from a very sketchy website.

WWW-Totally-not-sending-you-to-another-world-dot-com─ what a trustworthy name.

A few clicks later, he had decided to download the character set Generic_white_boi_with_a tragic_backstory.zip, another very ordinary filename.

Another few slight taps on a mouse covered in Cheeto dust and a very badly translated document opened itself.

"Yu no pay?!?! U suffer terribule consequences!!!" A pop-up window blocked the treasure away from the impatient writer. It blocked him away from his 10000 dollar price. With the fury of a thousand suns, the X at the top right corner was clicked into submission.

"Yu fearless?!?! God will crrushe u, crush you like pancaku"

But our brave keyboard warrior did not fear any godly punishment for he had installed an antivirus software…totally, not a cracked version. That is why he clicked another x in search of the perfect main character.

A war had begun. The battle of man vs illegally downloaded content raged on. Many x's were clicked that day and many more windows popped up. However, the battle-hardened Internet veteran had survived the No-router crises of 2009…this much was nothing.

The hours went by and neither side was willing to back down. Energy drinks had been consumed without end; the software had long stopped sending threats; now it was blatantly taunting the user.

3 am status report: The battle was still not over. The enemy had somehow captured the loudspeakers and was now blasting Hardbass through them.

4 am status report: Angry neighbours threaten to call the police. Hardbass has been switched to different mumble rappers.

5 am status report: Police have arrived, officers very big fan of said mumble rappers. Danger has passed for now.

6 am status report: Neighbours have started to counter the acoustic terrorism with metal music.

7 am status report: A mysterious countdown appeared on the monitor. It counts down from 60.

7:01 status report: The enemy won, the computer exploded. Democracy is dead.

[—]

Day 3-11 pm status report: 3 PCs, 2 calls to the local fire department, 1 contract with Satan later… the battle was finally won. The file had successfully been encrypted. The journey to 10k dollars started again.

It read as follows:

Prince Edward Nigel of Isle Secularis was the last son of the famous King Sukmah Dihk. A hated bastard child, no one had anything nice to say about him. As in tradition, only his mother gave a shit until she suddenly died of some idiotic disease, which might have been Ligma.

Angry at the world, he showed his power and his family kissed his buttocks. That didn't last long because they were killed by a rival family as the usual plot progression goes. Adding on to the very tear-jerking story, they stole his powers of magic and crippled him. These evil people also spread rumours about him.

He lived a lonely life for about 10 minutes before spotting the holy Rock of Godslaying. After licking it 3 times, and don't ask this author why - his body was fixed and he could learn magic again.

Ready to seek revenge, he learned the bitter truth. His sister had survived only to be killed in front of his eyes again. Angry at the world again, he decided to be overpowered by making a blood oath to exact vengeance on all of his enemies.

…

Tears of joy covered the face of the pirate. This was the most perfect backstory he had ever seen. His cold, dead heart did feel truly touched by this profound sadness.

He had dug for young masters but found a jade beauty. You, or anyone with a functioning brain, might not like this but this is what peak writing looked like. This was absolute perfection.

Sadly, there was not too much time to be happy about this discovery.

Our author, he had to run. The police, the secret service, governments, aliens even gods had started to look for him. The secret formula to success!!─everyone wanted to have it. They would stop at nothing, except maybe streetlights, to get it.

He ran as fast as his gamer legs could carry him and decided to hide somewhere until things have calmed down.

There was only one thing standing between him and the 10k dollars. He still could not write a good story.