The Author's POV

The person whom the world revolves around. The person who defeats all of his opponents, and ultimately gets the beautiful girl. The sole existence all villains fear. That is the protagonist. What about me? As a failed author who had only one success throughout his whole career, I had reincarnated into my late novel. "This is it" I thought, as I tightly clenched my fist. Did I just get reincarnated in my own novel? Is this where I reincarnate in a novel and become the protagonist? No. Sadly it's not that kind of novel, as I reincarnated as a mob. The world doesn't revolve around me. The girls don't come flocking towards me. The cheat items don't come to me. "Phew" I let out a sigh of relief. "Thank god I'm not the protagonist" I joyfully shouted as tears streamed down my cheeks. Wait, are you curious as to why I don't want to be the protagonist? I did forget to mention the most important thing when I was describing a protagonist. That is... They are calamity magnets. I just died. If I learned something from that, it's that it really isn't a pleasant experience. If possible let me live a long stable life. Thank you, whoever reincarnated me. I would later come to regret these words... ======== Reader Disclaimer : Please read the *Read before reading novel* in synopsis. ======== Credit to _oinkchan for helping me find the previous novel cover Credit to Rengoku for his amazing edit of the new cover. ======== Discord : https://discord.gg/FNAKgfyky4 Patreon : https://www.patreon.com/TheAuthorPOV

Entrail_JI · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
864 Chs

A not so joyous after-party [4]



Splurting black blood on the ground, inside of a dim light room, an enchanting figure clenched her heart.

A black silhouette appeared next to the Matriarch who had just splurted black blood on the ground and hastily helped her sit on her throne.

Though her breath was weak, her presence remained majestic as the servant did not dare utter a single word.

Gripping the armrest of her throne, the matriarch whose figure was now incomparably pale said

"He failed..."

-Crack! -Crack!

Tightening her grip on the armrest, cracks started appearing on the throne as a red glow started emanating from the Matriarch's figure.

"...Fortunately because he was much weaker than me, his death has only cost me a small internal injury"

Hearing what the Matriach had said, the servant worriedly asked

"How long do you need to recuperate?"

"I should be healed in about a year's time..."

Turning her head to the servant that was next to her, she coldly ordered