In the year 2083 in a dystopian cyberpunk Detroit. A fixer dubbed Nomad is caught up in a job gone wrong. In need of new limbs and eye. He agrees to undergo a new software implant prototype to get a discount on his new prosthetics. Little did he know this software is going to bring him from the neon lit slums to the top of the world. 

[Welcome to the Cyberpunk System. You are going to become immortal and unstoppable by way of machines! Isn’t that wonderful?]

Note to my current and future readers, this is a work of fiction and not a Fanfiction at that. Cyberpunk as a genre is not one or two games, Cyberpunk 2077 is a game set in the genre of Cyberpunk. It is not the first or only entry into the Genre, as it has had a long history of brilliant works in the Genre as a whole.
Some of these include:
Neuromancer by William Gibson (One of my favorites, published in 1984, part of a trilogy)
Altered Carbon by Richard Morgan (Also has a Netflix show of the same title. Published in 2002)
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep by Phillip K. Dick (Argued to be the very first Cyberpunk book published in 1968, has no actual Cyberpunk element to it except the Existentialism of Androids and Cyborgs.)

My Novel Warlock in a Futuristic City is the culmination of my love for High Fantasy with my adoration for the Cyberpunk Genre. With that note I will be using terminology commonly found in the genre and will include an Author's note on each chapter that has the more uncommon lingo that would be hard pressed to figure out on your own.
Enjoy, and remember if you want to check out these awesome novels, Contact your local Library.

So here I am, not in my own body, completely out of my mind, and honestly a bit scared. In my past life (should I even call it past?) I've read a lot of light novels with people resurrecting into new bodies left and right, but that doesn't mean I feel ok with it myself, goddamit. 

Like WTF am I even supposed to do in this situation? I neither remember this poor guy's memories (the body's memory), neither know where the hell am I, why am I here, and what should I do know. Never mind, scratch that last one, I know what to do; find food! I'm hungry as fuck, yo! Well, in order to do that I have to exercise once more to start walking. 

After a quick exercise and deep calming breaths I start to explore my surroundings on foot. Yep, it's a dump, alright. The place was full of trash and useless electronics. I also found a few more bodies near the place I suspect I was supposed to sleep forever at. You know, considering that these bodies lacked major organs like heart, spine, kidneys and so on. Unfortunately for me finding that out equaled with me emptying my already pretty much empty stomach on the ground. Believe me, you wouldn't want to see sights like these. Just to make sure I checked if I had any incisions on me, and thankfully no, just a lot of bruises and small cuts. Oh, and a small bullet hole on the right of my chest. You know, nothing serious. I think I'm fine though, but I will have to check that out later, I think it's the reason it's so hard to take deep breaths. 

Nonetheless, I continued my expedition for food, and while I failed that one, I succeeded in another thing. I got out of the dump, and even found a road. Happy days! I sure hope though a car will drive nearby, otherwise I might just starve. I continue going with the road for an hour or so, and reach a crossroads with a better looking road ahead, on a cliff too! I'll finally have my suspicions cleared. The suspicion being, whether I have reincarnated into the Cyberpunk world. Since, you know, the last thing I did before dying, was Cyberpunk. 

I reach the cliff, and the view is simply... ok? The city I see beneath my eyes looks like a big nice looking city with a lot of neon, alright, I just don't know if it's THE city. Well, let's leave that thought for another time, for I finally see a car coming from my left. Food! Finally! Thank God! I run onto the road, and start waving towards the car to stop near me. The car starts slowing down... before hitting the accelerator and speeding off behind me. 

Eh...? 

What? Why? Huuuuh??? WHAT THE HELL, MAN, I'M FUCKING STARVING HERE, AND YOU'RE LEAVING ME TO DIE? What is wrong with some people? Whatever. I start following the road again, hoping that another car, this time not filled with an idiot, drives by and stops. As I walk along the road, I noticed something. I don't have shoes. In fact, I don't have clothes at all, and I'm very dirty. Oops. Was that why the arsehole drove away after he saw me up close? Or maybe it was the combination of me being naked, dirty, and overly excited to see a car drive by?? Oof. No wonder he sped off, he probably thought I was some goddamn lunatic. Well I'm very sorry for your extremely high standards of normalcy, but not only have I woken up at this state in the middle of a dump, I also am not exactly in my own goddamn body! 

As I ramble to myself on how people are very cruel and unfeeling in this place, I notice a small building in the distance. I start running towards it, however after realizing how I would probably scare off the residents again, I decided a calm and lightly enthusiastic approach would be better. And so I do. There's 2 people on the porch, talking. Upon closer inspection it's a man and a women in 40's, maybe 50's, a couple probably. I cover my penile device with one hand (I checked it out before, when looking and making sense of my body), and start lightly waving with my other hand. They seem a bit taken aback, but they aren't taking out guns, so I take that as a good sign and walk closer. 

"Hello there", I say
"Umm... Hello...?"
"Yes, I know I'm looking rather peculiar right now, and I'm quite sorry for disturbing you, however I have woken up at the dump nearby in this way; bruised, cut, and with a bullet hole. I somehow survived all that happened to me and woke up. I had nothing on me, probably everything stolen by the punks that did this to me, so, would you mind giving me a piece of apparel or two and some food? Especially food , I beg you!"
"Ah, of course, wait here for a bit." 

Well, that was easier then expected :) Good to know there are some nice people living here too. I wait for a bit while the lady has gone inside to bring me food and clothes. The man, however, looks at me with a stinky eye. Guess I ruined his day or something by showing. Then again, not my problem. 

The lady comes back out with pants, underwear, a shirt, some food that looks like a casserole, and. HOLY SHIT IS THAT REAL WATER(TM)??! 

Holy fuck, I am in the Cyberpunk World!


Why, hello there! My name is Phoenix. You can call me Bird! Thanks for reading my humble novel!
Everyone who already read a few Wuxia, Xianxia or Xuanhuan novels can probably skip this preface. This is genre fiction. Even though I write in a future-like cyberpunk setting you probably will manage to understand most things.
For everyone else, welcome to the world of Chinese (inspired) fantasy. It is somehow very awkward for me to explain this genre but I'll give it a shot! Simply put it is Kung-Fu Fantasy: 
Martial artists develop supernatural skills through qigong-inspired meditation. These skills are used to defeat bullies, bandits, demons, dragons, and other mythical beasts.
So, they cultivate to become stronger? Yes and no. The ultimate goal is to understand the Dao (the way) and reach immortality and/or godhood.  The path to the peak of humanity is riddled with hurdles though, for example, with rivals or the lack of resources. To overcome those, the protagonist(s) gets stronger (duh). How the protagonist(s) develop varies from book to book. It could be through martial arts skills, enhancing the inner and outer strength, Daoist or Buddhist magics, spirit animals, or elemental spirits… Even gaming-inspired leveling systems exist. For this story, I will explain early on, how exactly it functions. Details and mysteries won't be revealed from the beginning, of course, but you guys should have a clear understanding of how it works without reading any other novels in this genre.
What is the Dao? Essentially it's everything, the universe, life and death, reincarnation for some. But it can be very small scale as well,  it's the way you behave, it's how you interact with people, it is how you fit into the world. It is literally EVERYTHING. No wonder there is a whole religion about it. I like this quote about cultivation and the Dao by the main character of the famous novel "I Shall Seal The Heavens" written by Er Gen:
"However, there is one thing that will never change, as far as I can tell. And that is… that I don't know what the Dao is. There are too many answers to the question. All I know… is that what I am pursuing is freedom and independence. To be free and unconstrained. That is my truth, and that is my Dao! In cultivating truth, what we cultivate… is the heart."
As the story progresses we will find out what the Dao means for our main character on her tedious journey. 
I hope I didn't lose ya'll with all this complicated nonsense! 'Cause I have to give a little more context to the story:
The genres Wuxia, Xianxia, and Xuanhuan are not interchangeable. To be honest it is really difficult to put my own story in strictly one of those categories. But I tend to think it's the latter of the three. Why does it matter? The most important thing is it does not play out in a fictional or real version of China. (Or does it? hehe.) But I very much borrow names, organization, and other terms of other novels that established a vague net of relationships. You will probably encounter some unfamiliar and some familiar names. But don't panic! I will explain their role when necessary. Trust me.
If you are confused at any point then just leave me a comment and I try to straighten it out. There is nothing more to add except to wish you a fun experience reading this novel! 

Your favorite bird
Phoenix - The Writing Birb

Follow Meadow Song, a 16-year old transfer student, delve into the darkness of Heaven’s Gate, capital of cultivation. Many people there aspire to ascend to Heaven but only a few know that the path to immortality is built on corpses. This glamourous city is home to all the classic factions of Wuxia-fiction. In this future-esque world, people learned to cultivate through artificial interfaces, so-called cyber spirits. How will Meadow, born with an innate grass-spirit, survive in this urban jungle?

Coverart by rom.ac

"Vir… Virtual world?" Kathrin was clearly more puzzled.
"If you read William Gibson's 'Neuromancer,' you'll know how close we are to the virtual world. This novel started cyberpunk-styled science fiction novels," Adrian further explained.
Kathrin twitched her mouth. "It sounds… Deep."
"It's alright, it's normal to feel confused since it's your first time learning about this concept. You won't find it strange once you read more novels of this style." Adrian waved his hand. "You don't have to care about that, just tell me what you think about the story."
"Looking at the story itself…" Kathrin tilted her head to think, and she looked adorable when she pouted her lips. "Because they're just sections, and that the stories aren't fully developed, I can't give an overall evaluation. Based on the sections, I think that the descriptions of the zombie story are more attractive, for example…"
She took the drafts from Adrian, then began reading, "Jill rolled on the ground to avoid the sharp teeth that were covered in saliva, and her countless hours of training allowed her to kick the zombie's jaw due to her conditioned reflex. Although the zombie that was covered in rotten flesh wailed, it sprung up from the ground after a while and pounced on her again with a mouth full of saliva."
"Bam! Jill shot with her gun. At that critical moment, she managed to pick up her pistol and pulled the trigger after aiming at it. A series of gunshots later, the disgusting zombie finally collapsed to the ground, but before she could take a breather, a few more zombies broke the glass to jump into the corridor. Jill who was shocked, quickly escaped to the room, then shut the door before she took deep breaths. By then, her palms and her vest were drenched."
Kathrin stopped after she read the section, then looked up at Adrian. "Your description develops very clear visuals, so I think that this zombie story that involves a lot of action is more attractive than… The virtual world story. I also think that this trait of yours is related to your role as the director."
"I must say, Ms. Beckinsell, that you're very smart." Adrian clapped his hands. "I'm also very surprised that you have an opinion on the novels."
"When I studied at 'Godolphin and Latymer' girl's school, I won the WH Smith Literary Award twice. I did three essays the first time and produced three poems the second time." While Kathrin spoke in a casual tone, the fact that she stuck her chest out slightly showed that she was proud of herself. Adrian, who noticed this, chuckled and shook his head.
Knowing that she went a little overboard, Kathrin coughed, embarrassed. "Of course, I can't compare myself with someone like you who writes stories casually—honestly, aren't you afraid of confusing yourself? You're writing two stories at the same time."
"How should I put this…" Adrian pondered for a while. "It's possible, but it won't be too serious since I'm only writing sections, and these sections were already composed before I typed them out. More importantly, when the different concepts clash in my mind, I might be suddenly struck by a valuable idea. For example…"
He suddenly paused, then stared at Kathrin, who rolled her eyes at him after a long time. "For example what?"
"Wait!" Adrian raised his finger and shook it as he fixed his gaze on Kathrin.
Kathrin shrunk her neck and frowned at him.
"Stand up." Adrian gestured. "Stand up, and turn around."
Kathrin furrowed her brows even more but was surprisingly not mad. She stood up and turned in front of him. Subsequently, Adrian who was rubbing his chin stood up as well and walked in circles in the room while looking at her from time to time. At last, he made a hand gesture at her. "Can you?"
Upon seeing him, Kathrin sighed, then pulled her hair into a messy ponytail.
"What exactly are you…" She asked helplessly but was cut off by Adrian before she finished her sentence. "Lara!"
"Lara? I'm sorry, I thought you remember my…"
"Lara Croft!"
"Mr. Cowell, if you're going to act like this, please allow me to…"
"Let me think, let me think. She should be a little masculine, a little wild, and is probably an orphan. She's later adopted by an archaeology professor, and is raised to be… No, no, no. If that's the case, her risk-taking behavior will be portrayed as passive, which is too similar to Indiana Jones… Oh, yes, a noble. She should be in a noble family, so she has more time for adventures while receiving a good education. It'll be best if she's in a noble family with an archeological tradition.." Adrian mentioned in a hurry as if he was in his own world.
Kathrin who was impatient finally called out to him, "Mr. Cowell, may I leave now?"
"Ah, Ms. Beckinsell, I'm so sorry." Adrian finally came back to his senses. "I apologize for my rudeness, but an interesting idea just sparked in my mind."
"An interesting idea?" Kathrin looked at him funnily.
"Yes, a female version of Indiana Jones." Adrian then took a piece of paper and a pen before he began drawing. "Lara Croft, the eleventh countess of the Croft family. In 1547, Edward VI granted the Croft family the property title and rights to Abbingdon, Surrey. Lara was raised as an aristocrat and was generally acknowledged as a genius. She would soon become an English lady, but an encounter changed everything when she was 9 years old. When she flew back to her country with her mother, their plane crashed in the Himalayas, where her mother died, but she spent 10 days walking through ice and snow to Kathmandu… It sounds exaggerated since she's only a 9-year-old girl… But this suits her genius title, and it gives her the lead aura…"
"Wait, wait!" Kathrin who listened interrupted and looked at Adrian in disbelief. "Did you come up with all of that in a few minutes?!"
"Uhm… You can say that, but I still need to decide many other things." Adrian shrugged, then put the paper in Kathrin's hands, which turned out to be a sketch. Although the facial features were not drawn, and that limbs were simply drawn, he managed to portray the lady's image through her short-sleeved t-shirt, hot pants, military boots, backpack, gun, and ponytail. The lady's attractive traits were vividly shown through the sketch.
Kathrin stared at the sketch.
"Your features are too gentle and too delicate, whereas Lara is wild and unrestrained. This is regrettable," Adrian sighed as he commented.
"Have you seen your schedule? If you don't have any opinion, I'll return the files to Mr. Haggis," Kathrin suddenly asked. She placed the sketch on the table as if it was not worth mentioning.
"Of course, I don't have any opinion." Adrian passed her the documents.
"Thank you," Kathrin said, then left the room in a hurry.
Adrian crossed his arms as he looked at the door for a long time.
"Nice work, Haggis," He mentioned softly.
Everything was well within his plan. He asked Haggis to find an excuse for Kathrin to come to his room so that he could build a harmonious relationship with her—except for the 'Lara Croft: Tomb Raider' concept in the end. He really came up with the idea because of her.
Adrian initially wanted to write 'Resident Evil' and 'The Matrix' into novels just for fun. Although 'Neuromancer' came up with the virtual world concept, and 'Blade Runner' also proposed the definition of real from a different perspective, many people took delight in talking about 'Ghost in the Shell.' After all, two drivers admitted that the animation that was only going to be released in a few years gave them a lot of inspiration.
He was definitely not going to let go of 'The Matrix', an epoch-making film—it was his established strategy to take someone else's path so that they had no paths left—he decided to write the novel versions, lest someone linked it to 'Ghost in the Shell'. In any case, he analyzed 'The Matrix' in his past life, thus it would be easy for him to modify it into a trilogy. As for 'Resident Evil,' it was a bonus.
Adrian was perfecting his plan while he wrote the novel sections. Through constant modification and thinking, he realized that writing 'Resident Evil' and 'The Matrix' into novels could help his plan, hence he always found time to write some parts throughout his trip from Los Angeles to London. He had also complained about the hostel's table lamp because of this.
On top of all of that, he thought of another novel topic due to Kathrin, which was 'Lara Croft: Tomb Raider', a game that would only be released 6 years later. It was worth noting that he was very lucky. Not only was the sudden idea beneficial to his plan the way 'Resident Evil' and 'The Matrix' were, but it also completely eased the relationship between him and Kathrin. He killed two birds with one stone.
"This is just the beginning," Adrian continued typing on the typewriter.
'Kathrin is very attractive, but haste makes waste, I shall take it slowly. As for my plan, unless I solve the major premise, it's merely paper talk.'
"Claw, don't let me down," Adrian mumbled.


In the ‘90s era, Adrian Cowell was just a rich young man living it up in Los Angeles who had spent years in indulgence and often caused trouble. Unable to allow his behavior to continue, his parents changed their will before their passing and he was no longer able to live as extravagantly as he did before. However, Adrian's fate took a turn one night while trying to fix his bedside lamp which led to Zhang Haoxuan, a man from the future who had time-traveled after being intoxicated, to possess his body.
Assuming his new identity as ‘Adrian’, he utilizes his absurd memory for films in his former life as Zhang Haoxuan, as well as Adrian’s wealth and connections, to replicate films that have been produced in the future — determined to dominate the Hollywood scene.
Watch Adrian as he rises to be the king of Hollywood, a figure who will be envied by many!


Sorry for the notification. I didn't upoad today since I did my other book's chapter at school and had to study for two practice SAC's that will be happening tomorrow.

Chances are, you are buying Cyberpunk 2077. For those that haven't pre-ordered it yet, now is the time. I think every console allows you to pre-download the game right now so it'll be ready on the 10th.
I'm not sure what my upload schedule will be after cyberpunk, I watched a 30min vid from SirSwag noting a lot of details. If it's true, then I'll be going through like 16 playthroughs.
Also, apparently the hardest difficulty is called "Game Journalist", so yeah, it's the best game ever.

An unfortunate young man died in his sleep. 
Due to the unlucky nature of his death, the god of reincarnation gave him a second chance.
After 16 years in his new world he is given the main character's exclusive privilege; A system.

A.N.
1. This is my first Fan-Fic, don't expect it to be perfect
2. Any critisism is welcomed, under the condition that it is constructive and not random insults
3. I own almost no character (at this moment).
4. I am aware the sypnosis is unrefined, I didn't want a small all the details here, all of it will be in the prologue.
5. This is a wish-fufilment fan-fic, women will be laid and annoying bastards will be killed.
6. The main point of this novel is the smut aspect. Action takes a backseat.

I'm Shuan a man who slaves away writing many different novels to just meet ends meets, oh Lord when will you end my suffering, when will I no longer be a slave to these words that I constantly write, the passion I once had as a young writer faded many years ago but it was my fault, I thought leaving school to pursue my passion would work but look where I am now, in a one-bedroom apartment sharing a bathroom with strangers who act like gangsters, no girlfriend to be by my side and not even a single family member alive to help me through the suffering either. Why must life be so unfair?!
As I sat at my desk and continued to slave away writing words on the screen I felt drowsy and began to fall asleep...
*BEEP*
*BEEP*
"What's that sound.....cough"
'I can barely breathe, is that smoke?!'
I turn my head to be met with flames rapidly engulfing my room with nightmarish screams being heard from outside my room. 
'What in the world happened!'
I quickly stand up and begin to look for a way out until It hit me.
'What's the point of escaping, maybe this is God's sign telling me this is my way out, I've got no one waiting for me and if I decide to escape I would need to be treated which I have not got the money for either the medical bills or even enough money to find a place to stay, my life is basically destroyed although I see this as a sort of salvation, a way to escape my lonely life of endless writing. I hope after death I can get some rest.'
'Screw that, I want to survive it's the basic instinct of all human nature. If i escape here I will change my life around no matter what it takes just please God you have not once answered my prayers just this once allow me to escape!' 
I dash through the flames by my door and make a dash towards the stairs to only realise,
'What's this, I...I'm falling! Ha~ how unfair life is.'
.................................
I awake in an abyss where I'm greeted by a voice in my head that was rather low but had a soothing tone similar to that of my grandfather when I was a child,
"Hello, Shuan I don't know if you realised yet but you have died." The voice says in my mind.
"Ha~ I guessed that much after I was falling in the fire, but what not?" I question the voice.
"Old man let me take this one!" A screeching voice replied,
"Fine Huxa I said I would let you have this human any since you made his life that way." The old man replied to the screeching voice whose name was Huxa.
"KeKeKe~" Was the response of the voice.
"Who are you and what do you mean 'made my life that way'?!" I said with a slightly angry tone.
"The Old man is gone so I don't have any reason to reply but oh well just to make you feel even worse I will tell you. I am Huxa the god of darkness and I decided to have some fun one day and cursed you with eternal bad luck and is why your life was so shit hahahah~" Huxa said with God's laugh leaving a slight pain in my head.
"What!!!! How could you do that, what's the point of God being omnibenevolent then!" I replied.
"That's the old man's job for me none of that applies however, since my fun is over I guess I can give you some compensation, I know I'm the god of darkness but I do have some morale's!" Huxa said in a proud tone.
"What's the compensation?" I asked as it piqued my curiosity.
"How about this, you have written many novels in your time so you're familiar with the many genres, how about I give you a system that allows you to go to any world in the multiverse excluding any copies of earth that have a 95% match rate?" The God proposed.
"Can I have more details?" I asked.
"Why of course. First of all the system's potential is limitless, you can keep the powers you gain from each world, the system will explain a few things to you before your sent off. Third, you can choose the world you start off in, and lastly, you may return to worlds. Fourth, I will give you one gift which is 3 lives, the 3 lives apply to if you die in a certain world, you will keep the powers you gained until that death but after all your lives are gone you will be reincarnated and erased of your skills, system and memories basically putting you back into the cycle of reincarnation as you should normally be in." The god replied nonchalantly as he talked of an overpowered system that I planned to exploit.
"Ok that's fine, thank you for the opportunity!" I replied.
"Well, I will leave you with the system, goodbye for now." The god said as their voice faded.
*DING*
A screen appeared before me with the words that passed extremely quickly with a robotic female voice copying what was put on the screen in front of me." integrating with host, 10%......15%........40%...83%.....100%, completed." 
"What would the host like for their appearance from now on" The robotic voice said as an image popped in front of me and my mind seemed to control how it looked.  
I began customizing before I finished, the final product was a slightly tanned teen boy around 18 with blue eyes that seemed to suck you in like the view of the vast ocean, light brown wavy hair similar to that of Cristiano Ronaldo's with the patterns on the side. A well-toned body with a height being around 190cm (6'2) along with slightly pointy ears but not so pointy that the person would be mistaken as an elf. 
The system suddenly faded the previous screen into the background and text overlayed it as it read out in it's robotic voice, "What race would the host like to take from the list below;
Elf,
Human,
Orc,
Dwarf,
Goblin,
Slime,
Dragon,
Vampire,
half breeds are possible between the races below,;
Elf, Human,
Dwarf, Elf,
Human, Dwarf,
Human, Dragon,
Human, Vampire,
Vampire, Dragon,
Elf, Dragon." 
"Interesting, I'm tempted for a vampire, however, there are many problems with it and I'm not sure what weaknesses there are with each race no thanks to the system besides it just giving me the names. However, I can assume its a weakness to sunlight or thirst for blood will not go if I'm a Vampire and Dragon breed which will probably not cover sunlight but fix hunger but I'm leaning towards Dhampir (human and vampire) as the sun will have less of an effect to the degree I can go outside and I can also eat human food too. Hmmmm....I think I will go with Elf and Dragon half breed so I can have a longer lifespan and hopefully a high dexterity if we think in game terms, good stealth with high damage and range while also being a dragon which can cover defense, also both species are blessed with affinity with magic assuming I have a high affinity with elemental and spiritual magic, if they exist in the world's I can go to."
As I finished the system finished by saying "Pick one of the worlds below;
Fantasy,
Apocalypse,
Wuxia,
Urban Wuxia,
CyberPunk,
Note host can pick parallel world's or fiction world's, A few examples are below;
Jobless reincarnation,
Harry Potter,
Naruto,
I shall break through the heavens,
......"
"Woah, so many to choose from, at least this lets me confirm there can be magic if I select the correct world. A parallel world would be better as I would have knowledge to abuse but what would be the best to start out and gain skills, hmmmm....."
"I think I will choose.............."


A/N: What did you think he chose? (you can put some suggestions as I'm unsure currently.
This is not proofread as mentioned, hope you enjoyed it, comment on what you want to see in the future, add to library and comment. 
Feedback much appreciated and needed :)

P.S: Long chapter of nearly 1,400 words.

I find it difficult to focus on things I remember.

Unlike some people, I cannot write on the flip of a switch. There was a time when I wished I could get a typewriter, but with family as they are, sometimes it's easy to have a holiday where they only think of gifts for other people and not you. Likewise, I never give them any gifts, and outright skip them. But what kills the most is how much ink gets wasting for things that are essentially random scribbling. As if somehow random scribbling were worth more than prose. It's the little things like this, intentionally or not, that are the most insulting. And if you complain, than other people do not let you have any words.

Some people use formal language to communicate what other "lesser mortals" are able to say in less kind words, of which I wont repeat. But the gist is usually some rambling about economics, something related to communism. A university professor, to think that someone like that would lower themselves to uploading videos on youtube. Au contraire, for those who belong to sub cultures I generally associate, more often we use federated video uploading and file sharing: usually about anarchism. I communicate this story without indention, for indention is only useful if I wish to go into print. You pay the cost of a print run, for books that may never sell.

But for me, it's not the desire to sell that motivates me. I've never considered myself someone motivated by money. People say that self-published books are easier to sell in genre fiction, and yet in my own experience, it's far more common for literary fiction writers to be in the position, where they would have to self-publish their books to go anywhere. For me, it's a bit like trying to make a profit out of something little more than your blog. Which somehow feels extremely dirty to me. My mind is so often filled with noise to today, it's difficult to automatically write like I used to.

Even now, as I listen to the flow of rain drops outside the window, the reality of my dryness breaks the illusion: as much as it sounds like rain, the reality is it merely comes from my computer. To make matters worse, I have family that--and sometimes I wonder if it's even that--that in the most well meaning way possible, suggest that my work will never sell if I write anything that isn't about a specific topic. This comes despite the fact that that's quite literally the point of literary fiction.

Sometimes I wish I could melt away with the wind, and become a collection of music notes that fill the sky.

But I'm just some disillusioned speculative fiction writer. Science fiction writers have cool gadgets, other ones have cool societies. Yet for me there is nothing traditionally exciting about the human experience. But my goal is to highlight societal truths, not necessarily entertain you. If a book is the story about being a human being, trying to force it down a garden path of a seven point structure always struck me as largely pointless. As there is so many different ways to play the same piano note.

Even if it's not a song, of a sunken boat.


Sometimes you'll meet people that you're surprised they survived as long as they did, even if that person is strictly imaginary: last night I had a dream I was walking through a butchering room, ran by human female slaves. The slaves would help the main guy take girls out of the prison, who are hung up from chains by their wrists and ankles. They would be butchered on butcher block tables, their severed heads and limbs scattered all over the floor. The man would sometimes cook and eat these prisoners. But usually preferred to feed the remains to his dog, but would pretend to eat them. Then wretch them up when the man was not looking. When the man spotted me, he tried to have me captured. But instead he cornered me on his back porch.

I notice that it wasn't a stuffed tiger on the stairs, but an actual tiger painted to look like a stuffed animal. When I turned around, the man was not there, but only his dog.

-- No wonder you're able to survive eating humans, if you ate humans every day as a human, then you're body will eventually reject the things you've eaten, and begin falling apart.

--  I'm just his dog lady, I want to leave this place as much as you do.

The door swung open, it was a gaggle of girls. Some slightly wounded. The main slave girl held onto the guy's severed head and tossed it to the tiger. The tiger chased after the severed head, and for the most people could finally have a hope of not being butchered someday.

Usually dreams are not usually so violent.  They say that dreams are usually caused by stress.

But so often dreams are so realistic, including the segment where I was walking through a grocery store, and was struggling to find the right box of cereal. Eventually I had to settle for generic HC, and thus my craving for that honey could finally be satisfied, until the next time I went shopping. And then it was a slow ride home, where I could listen to the sound of rain, as it poured outside against the window.

At home, when I wake up, there is only my kitty cat.

Who wants my black beans. Carefully I move my chair so they can't go onto my dining room table. But this doesn't stop them from trying, while I make my morning coffee.

After the morning routine, I drew some comic sketches for some new light novels. Although some of the designs have me a little bit worried, as my goal is to communicate a Cyberpunk setting, and not a children's book. If I were drawing a children's book, it be one thing. But a bit different if the book is about young teenagers living the life as adults. I had once wanted to be a children's writers, but this never worked out quite like a hoped. So I'm attempting to write science fiction, under the idea that this itself may also not work out so well. And I'm stuck with a diary I don't know how to market.


I'm not an interesting person: I have almost nothing going for me; when you attempt to kill yourself three different times, it immediately becomes apparent how little society really cares about you. That may sound cynical, but it's the truth. I don't mean to sound so frank, but when you've been kidnapped once, and have about a grand robbed from you, and you're sexually assaulted every day for about a year, and certain contemporary hash tags on social media aren't what they turned out to be, the only apparent reality is one where people only think of them self.

That doesn't mean there aren't some people that do good things, but there is usually some financial string attached; as the only person in the world that puts politics aside for sake of human decency, I don't entirely understand how other people view the world differently. I used to be a computer programmer, but got tired of how men in the business treated trans women, especially on older federated social media networks. In Church, it's Give Us Our Daily Bread. In the church of a Diaspora, it's give us our daily wank.

I am a female programmer. Give me my daily shank. For thine is the Cyberdeck, and cutting is my personal wank.

Oh woman!

It seems like every time you succeed in something, there is always somebody there to try to take you down a notch; it doesn't matter what it is, it could be finding a new girlfriend, or finishing a new book. One of the reasons I left centralized social media, is that it always felt like every one of my actions was being watched. Having some people approve of your actions doesn't make things any better; what if you decided to change your mind later, or completely stop using the site altogether. You being the sole exception in a group that hates your political views. This is my experience, being social most people would consider socialist. The term is constantly degraded, because of people that don't really understand what the word means.

I can't even write Cyberpunk fiction, because--although topically I've never had much in common with him anyway--that the main godfather of that genre of fiction, although not an optimist, is at most a realistic often makes me feel like somehow my experience is invalid. Combine this with the fact that even in comics, one of the groups I've considered my lifeblood, decided to completely disown me merely for the fact that I comment on creator-ownership, or happen to dislike mainstream comic companies. Don't ever let anyone try to convince you of anything else...

Thinking critically and carefully is never easy.

Especially as an anarcho-communist.

Before the second civil war, that broke the broken American Union into several smaller national units.

Set in the fictional Tennessean city of Chatlanta, where virtual reality is being newly developed, and the line between dreams and reality blur. A writer who has a hard time finishing a story, is in search for love.

The playful hacker accidentally courts an assassin/spy for a rival US micro-nation, and decides to rebuild her dead acquaintance to give her a second chance. Interspersed are dreams about being hunted by cannibalistic serial killers, and essays about the nature of the game-design industry.

Author Note: This work is half way finished,  the next half is being plotted.

*Humm~*

The invisible crystal-craft, with a length of an average Porsche slowly landed on a deserted alleyway in between a few large buildings, located on the commercial sector of the station.


A beam of light quickly scanned the surrounding area, searching for any surveillance equipment.


The light vanished, before the craft disabled its stealth, completely revealing its crystalline exterior that would most likely steal every people's gaze. If there's anyone in this alley that is...


The side of the craft formed an oval-shaped opening and the man slowly stepped down the spacecraft.


He staggers a bit, not used in using his legs and the pulling force of the station's gravity. but still managed to hold on to the vehicle saving himself from face planting into the hard metal pavement/surface.

He looked at his foot as he felt the cold surface. 

"ah... Right, my clothes... " 
He remembered that the suit he's wearing is in a tattered state with both his legs exposed and having his tops riddled with a few fist-sized holes. 

Thankfully, his savior's voice was heard. 

[Sire, the system has taken the liberty to scan a few articles of clothing in the vicinity, please stay still while the system puts it on you.]

A sudden feeling of sand-like texture engulfing his body. Prompting him to look back down and saw that a transparent liquid appeared all over him. 
"What's this?"  he asked as he poked the translucent mass on his chest. 

[Nano-crystal Bots, commonly used for patching holes on damaged spacecraft' in case of emergencies.] 

"..." 

[Apologies' sire, the system currently has no other materials for making clothes inside its warehouse.] 

"huh? Uh no, This is fine too, Thanks." 

The Nano-crystals by then slowly settled down. 

He looked at the spacecraft's' surface and found his reflection wearing black cyberpunk ish clothing, without the eye-catching neon lights on it of course, but still looks quite good on his well-built body. 

"Cool, thanks." 

He turned side to side, inspecting his familiar, yet foreign getup, before noticing his face. Red hair that goes down almost to his shoulders and a good looking face with well-defined features that will make eight out of ten women look at his direction. 

Evans' bloodline is mostly that of a human and looks very much like a European man in terms of body built and facial features. 

"Damn... That's one good looking face...Hmmm. "

'Evans would've been a top model back on earth with his looks and build...' he couldn't help but click his tongue at Evans' looks.  
 
But he then remembered something... 

"Oh right, Evans' supposed to be KIA, can you do something about my face? Either changing or hiding it with a mask would be good." and asked the AI. 

[Understood] 

A cool sensation crept onto his whole head, prompting him to close his eyes for a few seconds, waiting until the disguise is finished. 

[Task complete, please take a look.]

"ohh~ not bad... Nothing should be able to recognize my face now... But uhh." 

His facial structures changed quite a bit. He became an slightly above average looking uncle in his early thirties, with sleek black hair and a magnificent handlebar mustache. 

But the cyberpunk clothes, paired with 17th century looking facial hair, made a comical combination that made his lips twitch as he tried his best to stop himself from laughing.

"*Ahem*... Can you change it to a different one? No, just remove the beard and no need to change the hair, as well as the face."


[Undertood] The AI replied and made the beard disappear.

"Thanks." he gave a nod, satisfied with his current getup, and turned away from the craft. He looked around the alleyway and asked... 

"let's get out of here, shall we. Oh right, We should first hide the ship before we go...  ."

[Please leave that to me.]

The craft flashed with a soft light before disappearing out of thin air.

"?"
He noticed something different with its disappearance.

' It's not a multicolored mist like last time...'
A colorful mist covered the craft as it turns on its stealth system earlier, is what he remembered. But this time's different and just straight up vanishing...

"...Alright, let's get out of this alley and find ourselves a hotel or something to stay at." he decided to ignore the mysterious things the system does for the time being and picked one of the two directions that are available to him. Thankfully, he is familiar with the layout of the station because of Evans' memories, as well as being able to see the area from above earlier, and got out of the alley not long after. 

The number of people and different noises became larger and louder as he came closer to one of the sector's main roads. 

He could not help but look at everything around him with curiosity. As a person of the 21st century, everything looks alien-like to him as he saw a lot of high-tech gadgets, infrastructures with holographic displays and many other objects that are normally found in fictions.


A sudden aromatic smell assaulted his senses, prompting his stomach to growl and made him stop.

He looked at the building in which the smell was coming from and found out a restaurant with a fair amount of patrons inside.

His feet unconsciously changed its course towards the restaurants' direction. But he was stopped from his tracks by a stern warning that erupted in his head. 

"Hey system, do we, by any chance, have money?" he reached towards his pockets and found them empty, before caressing the now broken arm brain. 

 [None, sire.] 

A reply that doused his grumbling stomach to silence came.

He found a bench, with an ample shade beneath a blue tree for shelter against the artificial sun up above the sky and sat down to look through Evans' memories for any useful information regarding his financial situation. 

A few minutes passed before he found what he was looking for.

"Right! He had a sto...." He suddenly felt a strong grip on his shoulder, stopping his sentence mid-way, followed by a threatening voice in front of him.

"Retard, I'm speakin to ya, which f**kin group are ya from, and what're ya doin in our turf?!"

The man gasped as he found a couple of thugs with the same cyberpunk-ish clothes he's wearing, looking menacingly at him.

"huh?"

No synopsis yet and would probably do one after I do a hundred chapters.


Genre at the moment: Sci-Fi/artificial Intelligence/Transmigration.



I am not by any means, an experienced writer. 




English is not my mother tongue and has an average grade on the subject, so please read at your own risk. I am not going to take responsibility for you
developing any brain damage(LOL).
oh right, I'm also currently using an app for grammar correction... if that makes your brains a bit more at ease.

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