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Master Of My Universe: The Author Who Became the Hero's System

You can have a chat with me on discord. https://discord.gg/MgVng8Fh Mark Eisner is the greatest example of a failure. Unable to get his dream job, he resorts to writing a story, a story close to his heart, a story in which he expressed himself to the fullest. It was the delusional universe he created for himself. Unable to grasp the attention of readers, his book was deemed a failure as well. Heartbroken after suffering his crushing fate, Mark commits suicide, uttering his last words; proclaiming the end of his story. But was this the end of his story? Hell Nah! He is far from being dead. He finds himself, astonishingly, still possessing his consciousness, even though his existence is formless. What he then sees is unbelievable. The hero he created, the hero "he only" loved, the hero that reflected himself... His own protagonist. Reincarnated as the system of the hero of his own novel, Mark undergoes an epic journey with his unanticipated creation, helping him throughout, knowing all about his predicaments. There are a few rules to him - 1. RELAY ONLY REQUIRED MESSAGE TO THE PLAYER 2. DROP DESIGNATED REWARDS 3. EXPEL THE PLAYER IF PLAUSIBILITY REACHES LIMITS But.... Is that all? Does he really thinks events will take place just as he layed them? . . . Is he really that Omniscient ? Is he the only one.... . . .

Adwit_ojha · Fantaisie
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56 Chs

A New Start: Stay on the Training Island

It was not before ten hours did Remirg Kryptos wearily opened his eyes in his comfortable bed. The experience had been heaven, being able to sleep in a warm bed as soft as the clouds themselves. 

Hoisting himself out of his bed, he realized that it was still just after noon on the island. Apparently, days lasted long, and nights lasted short on this island. Quite a convenient feature. The only window allowing light to seep into the room, let the natural light illuminate the whole room up, overpowering the intensity of the hovering torches.

Still sitting in bed, Remirg could feel the fact that his body had already started to react to all of the minor injuries he had suffered during the battle last night. Though the experience was still making him shake, Remirg could feel that things were becoming more easier when assessing opponents.

His mind was being put to use the greatest in his life. This already was becoming the best thing he could imagine of. But he could not get the full of himself. He still had a long way to go, considering that he was still a Z-Class mage. He still wondered when he would level up in this aspect.

Nevertheless, hopping off the bed, Remirg stood barefoot on the warm wooden floor. He still regretted the fact that his only pair of footwear was already lost to time when he was escaping the town and the wrath awaiting him.

Turning around once, he realized that he had still not checked out where the second door led to.

In a flash, he was already standing right beside the highly polished wooden door. The moment he opened it, it was quite a surprise for him. Inside it was a system had never seen before. He could hardly believe that such a technology even existed in the present world.

Inside the door lay countless foodstuffs, being preserved by the chilling temperature around it. It was almost freezing. 

But what was of more importance to Remirg were the foodstuffs lying beautifully inside the Remirg-didn't-know-what. Finalizing a name for it was a task he would do when he would be sitting idly, having completed his quests.

Carefully picking out a dish which was made up of round, hemispherical bread between which lied tomatoes, lettuce, onion, fried smashed potato and a sticky substance which Remirg never recalled seeing anywhere or being eaten anywhere in his life.

Though still, the close inspection of it revealed to him that it was nothing but a transformed and solidified form of milk. Still, the procedure of its production was a mystery to him.

Nevertheless, like a ravenous dog, he took the largest bite out of it, regretting it almost instantly, as he choked himself right the next moment.

He coughed violently as he spat trinkets of the food outside the window.

Somehow managing to dive back into his normal state, he swallowed the whole of the hasty bite he had taken. Apparently, being too greedy really was going to kill him.

Sheepishly sliding into the chair, which was supposed to be sat into, he slowly devoured his meal, having a decent go at it after such a long time. The food which he had borrowed from his uncle's vanished away somewhere he doesn't know.

After completing his meal, or rather said, his breakfast, Remirg could feel his energy and prana being rejuvenated. He made a mental note to eat at least two times daily, which was a rather ironical decision by a guy who had nothing good to eat just a couple of days ago.

Dusting off the crumbs which sprinkled themselves involuntarily as a result of his eating, he threw them off carefully outside the window.

It was one of his innate habits.

Having lived in a small shack for years, he had become used to of cleaning everything he possessed. Because they were the things he valued, the limited things only he had access to, the arbitrator of his memories.

Somewhere Else in the Kingdom of Ritia

The man was moving quite haphazardly, uncanny to his nature of movement. The forest's ominous aura was increasing second by second.

It was becoming less bearable and suppressing. It was inevitable that a legendary beast was residing in this very forest. But that was something not of concern to the man. He needed to get out of here as soon as possible.

A few meters of walk ahead, he could hear faint rustling from a surrounding bush. Quite a normal situation in a forbidden forest.

If one had a good look at the man's eyes, they could clearly demark its faint glow. The man had activated Prana Presence, and at a greater level at that.

He could clearly figure out the outline of a wyvern hiding in the bushes, intently waiting to pounce upon the target when it got its chance.

Being able to see the fait particles of prana moving around the wyvern's vessels and lymphatic system, the man concluded the exact limb the wyvern was going to use.

Coming to a halt right in front of the bush, he stood motionless, turning his back around, intently waiting for the mindless beast to fall into his trap.

And fall it did.

The next moment, it had revealed itself, its pale white, grey mane fluttering in the air, as it leapt high, ready to unleash a claw attack on what he supposed to be its victim.

But it could never be much wrong.

Pirouetting quite skillfully, the man whorled around, shifting his center of mass towards his back, allowing his upper body to unleash a deadly charge up front.

Killing all movement from his back, the man conjured a sharp dagger out of nowhere.

In midair the wyvern was attacked, stabbed right through its heart.

Twisting the dagger violently, the man let the wyvern scream for one last time before falling dead, lying motionlessly, dead, right over the bush inside which he was hiding.

Quite unfazed at his encounter, the man continued to move forward, realizing that he was getting late. His task needed to be completed, as quick as possible, for it concerned the very security of the Kingdom of Ritia.