I opened my eyes and it was already morning, I hopped off the dumpster and walked toward the tent to get my last bag of chips and eat it as my breakfast. I yawned as I grabbed a chip from the bag and slowly munch it. 
 I lay my back against the tent and look at the game consoles that are on the floor, I pulled out my phone as I suddenly felt a vibration and a notification ring.
"Good day, writers! 
We, The Scripturient's League Editors, have read all your entries. We handpicked entries that truly interest us. We can't wait to send you a notification anytime if you are qualified, congratulations!
To those who haven't receive a notification, we apologize however we encourage you to join another contest again! Thank you for joining, writers! 
  - The Scripturient's League 
A post was uploaded by the League.
Comments flooded in. 
Aspiring_JKRowling:  hope I qualified. 
Speedy_Trevor: Damn, I think I won't be qualified. 
_Alexandre23: Congrats to the writers who'll be qualified. 
ShenFeng: Congratulations to the writers that receive a qualified message from The Scripturient's League. 
I put my phone down and continually eat my chips, nervously munch it.  After a few minutes, I looked back to my phone and suddenly received a message. 
Congratulations, our Scripturient Writer! 
I opened up the notification and slowly read the whole email thread. 
"Congratulations, Great_XioCheng! We are honored to announce that you are one of the writers that are qualified for The Scripturient's League competition qualifiers! Your Breaking Point: God's messenger hooked The Scripturient's League Editors due to the reason of the main character's emotion, you submitted a depressing prologue along with its other chapters however please improve your grammar and tenses. You will be assigned to a group with 4 people please click Teammates" 
A smile is formed on my lips, My eyes widened with joy and happiness as I read the notification. This is just the first time I'm able to be qualified in The Scripturient's League contest. I tapped the Teammate button and slowly read all my teammate's names.
"Great_Xiaoacheng! You are part of the low rank-writers. Your assigned team members were named as: 
Jin Tofu
Kim Daiki 
Quan Chi
Alevtina Sasori. 
They'll be your teammates until the termination day of writers where one of you will be eliminated from the team. 
Note: The termination day will be the day where you could know that you leveled up and be part of the other writer's team. The other writer teams is classified as  (Medium, High and Legendary) or all your points, stats were gone to zero and you have to do your best to level up with your life-span. 
Have a pleasant day to meet with your team mates! Congratulations, Great_XiaoCheng. All the best along with your teammates. 
"Oh this is cool, I cant wait to meet them" I said to myself excitedly, a new notification appeared on my phone. 
"Great_XiaoCheng! To meet your teammates, swipe up this portal image" 
An image of a rectangular neon blue with violet hues portal is attached on the notification. I swipe it up and the portal is in front of me, my eyes widened. 
I squinted my eyes as I slowly step inside, blinded from the violet neon lights of the unknown world I step in. Loud bangs of fireworks, cheering and chatters enveloped the environment, I looked to my back and the portal closes by itself. I looked around and a lot of people gathered, some were laughing and have a happy expression on their faces as they hug a person that came towards their small group. 
The neon blue and violet floodlights are the light source of the place, I looked up as I saw a shadow cast over the ground. A zeppelin is seen floating from the sky, it reads "The Scripturient's League" 
I looked sideways and few cheers of the people filled the arena. Lot of people, wearing hoodies like me with an animal icon. 
"Told you that you will be qualified!" I looked at my side and saw a blonde haired guy, wearing a hoodie with Ocelot animal icon on his back and wrapped his arms to a guy that also have an Ocelot icon. 
"I told you that you have the great plot on your entry, let's go meet the others" the person said as he yank the guy, walking through the group of people that is busy chattering and laughing. 
"You must be one of our teammate" I heard someone behind me.

 I turned around and saw a dark brown-haired guy crossing his arms across his chest with a smirk on his face standing between the 3 people. A choppy, medium-toned, white-haired guy with red bangs that has a big smile on its face, waving at me. A black-haired guy wearing glasses with a serious expression on his face, looking at me and a long black-haired girl with blue highlights visible on her hair, looking at the other groups of people. All of them were wearing a light yellow colored hoodie with a small sloth animal icon on the right side of the chest. 
"Welcome to the group!"

"Write before the deadline or lose a life span" that's what Shane Hiroki thinks. Being a top writer is what Shane Hiroki wants to be known for. After receiving a notification from The Scripturient's League, Shane joined and become a member of low-rank writers. 

Shane and his team compete with other talented writers with their daily quest where they have to meet its requirement and deadline or else the members of the team would  lose a life span and lose its points. 

Will Shane survive the competitions and become a top writer? 

This book is highly related to writers. The book includes racing word counts, timed- word mini games, and etc. Just a reader? Read this and you'll know the struggles of being a writer and who knows.. Because of this book, you want to be a writer.. or not.

After he leaves, she goes back to Earl Hye's house and makes a beeline for her room. She first opens the letter from Dilbert.
The war has reached past the gate of Loresh. They are currently preparing to take out their hidden card. The news has most likely already reached DaLan...
Marguerite reads the 2 pages of information. It seems that she was wrong in her calculations. The war advanced much more quickly than she thought.
She knows what Loresh's hidden car is. It is a weapon stolen from their country called the catapult. They most likely improved it and plan to use it early on to surprise Armel.
Loresh still thinks that their plan A hasn't been leaked to the enemy and so haven't put in place plan B yet. They still think that our weapons have been successfully damaged. But even if they do realize it, their plan B and plan C is also known to us. All thanks to Dilbert.
DUMMY CHAPTER


Image above: Portrait of Mollie Williams (Mississippi), taken as part of the Federal Writers' Project
This article was published online on February 9, 2021.
On a rainy thursday afternoon in November, I stepped inside the National Museum of African American History and Culture, in Washington, D.C. On past visits, I'd always encountered crowds of tourists and school groups, a space bursting with movement and sound. But on this day, the museum was nearly empty. It seemed to echo with all the people who had been there but were no longer. For the few of us inside, social distancing was dictated by blue circles scattered on the floor.
I made my way down to the bottom level, which documents the history of slavery in America. Masks were mandatory, and something about the pieces of cloth covering everyone's mouths seemed to amplify the silence and solemnity of what surrounded us.
I walked past the statue of Thomas Jefferson standing among bricks bearing the names of people he'd enslaved, past a cabin that enslaved people had slept in, and past the stone auction block upon which enslaved people had been sold and separated from their families.
Toward the end of a long corridor was a dimly lit room with sepia-toned photos on the walls. Photos of enslaved people holding their own children, or their enslaver's children. Photos of fresh wounds on the backs of those who'd been beaten. Photos of people bent over fields of cotton that hid their faces.
But what was most striking about the room was the voices running through it. The words of people who had survived slavery were running on a six-minute loop. Their voices floated through the air like ghosts.
"My father was not allowed to see my mother but two nights a week," said a woman in the voice of Mary A. Bell. "Dat was Wednesday and Saturday. So he often came home all bloody from his beatings."
"I had to wok evva day," said a woman in the voice of Elvira Boles. "I'd leave mah baby cryin' in the yard, and I'd be cryin', but I couldn't stay."
"My mudder word in de field," said Harrison Beckett. "Sometimes she come in 9 or 10 'clock at night. She be all wore out an' it be so dark she too tired to cook lots of times, but she hafter git some food so we could eat it. Us all 'round de table like dat was like a feast."
 
When I'd first encountered these floating voices years before, I was fascinated by how ordinary their stories were. These were not tales of daring escapes like those of Henry "Box" Brown, who in 1849 contorted his body into a wooden crate for 27 hours as it was delivered from the slave state of Virginia to abolitionists in Pennsylvania—mailing himself to freedom. Nor were they the stories of Frederick Douglass, who as a teenager, in 1833, fought his white slave breaker with such force that the man never hit Douglass again. Nor were they the stories of Harriet Jacobs, who, in an attempt to escape the physical and sexual abuses of slavery, hid in an attic for seven years.
From the January 1867 issue: Frederick Douglass's 'An Appeal to Congress for Impartial Suffrage'
Brown became a global celebrity who turned his escape routine into a one-man show that traveled throughout the United States and England. Douglass and Jacobs wrote autobiographies that became best sellers, and that today are staples in classrooms around the world. Theirs are the stories I learned as a child, and there's great value in teaching kids stories of resistance, of Black people not being passive recipients of violence. But I remember how, after reading them, I found myself wondering why every enslaved person didn't just escape like these famous figures did. The memory of that thought now fills me with shame.
The stories swirling about the room weren't famous accounts of extraordinary people; rather, they were the words of all-but-forgotten individuals who bore witness to the quotidian brutality of chattel slavery. These stories were the result of the Federal Writers' Project—a New Deal program that was tasked with collecting the oral histories of thousands of Americans. From 1936 to 1938, interviewers from the FWP gathered the firsthand accounts of more than 2,300 formerly enslaved people in at least 17 states. The members of the last generation of people to experience slavery were reaching the end of their lives, and so there was an urgency to record their recollections. In scale and ambition, the project was unlike any that had come before it. The Federal Writers' Project ex-slave narratives produced tens of thousands of pages of interviews and hundreds of photographs—the largest, and perhaps the most important, archive of testimony from formerly enslaved people in history.
The descendants of those who were interviewed can read the words of people they thought had been lost to history.
While many of these narratives vividly portray the horror of slavery—of families separated, of backs beaten, of bones crushed—embedded within them are stories of enslaved people dancing together on Saturday evenings as respite from their work; of people falling in love, creating pockets of time to see each other when the threat of violence momentarily ceased; of children skipping rocks in a creek or playing hide-and-seek amid towering oak trees, finding moments when the movement of their bodies was not governed by anything other than their own sense of wonder. These small moments—the sort that freedom allows us to take for granted—have stayed with me.
 
When I first came across the narratives, I was confused as to why I had never, not once in my entire education, been made aware of their existence. It was as if this trove of testimony—accounts that might expand, complicate, and deepen my understanding of slavery—had purposefully been kept from view.
 Portraits of formerly enslaved people, taken as part of the Federal Writers' Project. Left to right, top row: Willis Winn (Texas); James Green, seated, with an unidentified individual (Texas); Ben Kinchelow (Texas); Charles H. Anderson (Ohio). Second row: Mary Crane (Indiana); Daniel Taylor (Alabama); Orelia Alexia Franks (Texas). Third row: Harriet Jones (Texas); Simp Campbell (Texas); Patsy Moses (Texas). Fourth row: Gus Johnson (Texas); Ben Horry (South Carolina); Maugan Shepherd (Alabama); William Henry Towns (Alabama).
For many black americans, there is a limit to how far back we can trace our lineage. The sociologist Orlando Patterson calls it natal alienation: the idea that we have been stripped of social and cultural ties to a homeland we cannot identify. I have listened to friends discuss the specific village in Italy their ancestors came from, or the specific town in the hills of Scotland. No such precision is possible for Black Americans who are the descendants of enslaved people. Even after our ancestors were forcibly brought to the shores of the New World, few records documented their existence. The first census to include all Black Americans by name was conducted in 1870, five years after slavery ended. Trying to recover our lineage can be a process of chasing history through a cloud of smoke. We search for what often cannot be found. We mourn for all we do not know.
 
But the descendants of those who were interviewed for the Federal Writers' Project have been given something that has been denied to so many Black Americans: the opportunity to read the words, and possibly see the faces, of people they thought had been lost to history.
Because these narratives are not often taught in school, many people come across them for the first time later in life. Several historians told me that their encounters with these stories had shifted the trajectory of their personal and intellectual lives. Catherine A. Stewart, a historian at Cornell College, in Iowa, and the author of Long Past Slavery: Representing Race in the Federal Writers' Project, remembers sitting in the basement of the university library as a graduate student, making her way through reels of microfilm. "I will just never forget this sensation I had of these stories—of these life histories of these individuals, personal stories and experiences of enslavement—just leaping off the page," she said.
Read: A priceless archive of ordinary life


Marguerite is oblivious as she folds Arthmael's body into beautiful silhouettes. Following the familiar choreography, she dances relentlessly.

Grand Jete! Penche! followed by a series of graceful pas de chats. All concatenated in front of the enthralled emperor.

When the music reaches the outro in a full stop, Marguerite falls gracefully on the floor in a pose. She stays there and waits for the king to tell her she can leave.

She stays on the ground for a long time but hears nothing from him. Wondering if she did anything wrong, she wants to lift her head to look at the king's face, but quickly remembers the warning he gave her. If she disrespects him any further, who knows what he might do to her.

She suddenly feels her chin being lifted, her eyes meet the hazels of Demian. She forgets to breathe and falls from her pose onto the floor. She doesn't have time to regain her senses before two strong arms lift her off the floor.

She is about to question him on his weird behaviour when her mouth is suddenly covered by his in a kiss.

-------------------------------------------------
Marguerite is very talented. She has a beautiful voice, a great passion for music and various talents in the arts. Unfortunately, her bright future gets compromised when she is forced to leave her world to fulfill the wish of someone else. Marguerite wanting to go home as soon as possible, accepts. However things turn out quite unexpected for her.

The cover belongs to the rightful owner. If you are the owner of the art and want me to take it down, DM me on discord burlesque_dancer#2837

Tokyo, Japan.

            Home for many writers and literature. Aspiring writers go there dreaming of publishing their works in the place known for its blooming culture and love for novels.
I was one of these ambitious writers, I was good, really good. It wasn't until later that I found out, nothing comes for free.

Every fairytale we read says work hard and you will achieve your dream. But we keep forgetting, that in fairytales we know who is evil and who is good but in reality, evil wears masks that are difficult to be uncovered. 

My first book was one of the best sellers in japan, but I was betrayed by my publisher and editor. My book was published under the name of one of Tokyo's top five writers.
it wasn't until later that I found out that most of his novels were stolen and I wasn't the only case.

 I got angry and tried to tell the public about what happened. I was mocked, ridiculed and made into a laughing stock.

But put yourself in their shoe as they say in England, who you will believe a young writer just celebrating that he can legally drink beer or the man that his autograph is considered a national treasure.
The publishing company sued me for falsely accusing them of stealing the book. So I had only one option which is to SHUT UP AND TAKE THEIR MONEY. The following days followed the same routine wake up eat ramen, drink till wasted and sleep hoping not to wake up again.

One night after a heavy round of drinking I went to sleep. Instead of my room I found myself in an unfamiliar place. "This is definitely not my room, and not some place I know either" I thought sarcastically. It was a desert with no city in sight, all I could see were enormous triangular shaped buildings built with large stones in the distance and the sound of fighting and yelling. But no matter where I looked I couldn't find anyone.

"You're finally here" a sweet voice said from behind me "took you long enough".

"What do you mean you're finally here?" I yelled while turning around "and where the hell am I?"

"For now that doesn't matter, but if you really want to know then go search for the book" said a woman of about 20 year. She had long black hair and wore a necklace that looked like a knot in the shape of a man and a pair of rainbow colored wing on her back that gave her an aura that I had never felt before, it made me want to kneel and worship her.

"you have to find the book of Ani and decipher what it says, if you don't …" suddenly the sand erupted and a giant snake rose up, it was so big that it look like it can reach the sky, when he moved the earth start to shake. It kept rising, opening his mouth and showing his large fangs, his long thin tongue playing around so hard that one whip with his tongue can split the earth in two halves, his eyes seemed like a gate of hell that you can't dare look at it.
It kept opening his mouth until it covered the whole sun then in one bite it swallowed it.

Suddenly the world went dark and water gushed out from the earth turning it into a giant sea, "Finally, Ra is gone. And all those annoying pests will be no more "said the snake in a voice so powerful that it felt as if my heart was tearing apart.

I woke up, in cold sweat with my heart beating loudly. "it was only a dream" I thought, my body felt so heavy it was like I was shackled in the bed, it took me a long while till i got up. When I got up to wash my face I noticed a black tattoo on my forearm, it was in the shape of a man-like knot, similar in shape of the necklace of the woman in my dream. "Where did this mark come from?" I shouted. "That dream, it can't be real right?"

In the times where the tides are changing , where the gods are returning and the wars are close.

I , Matsuraki Ken shall prevent the war from starting , i will face the gods and prevent their beginings and endings.

I will find the book and collect the missing pieces and awaken the forgotten magic.
As they say Egypt was the start of civilization ,
it will also be the start of my path.
           ______________________________

So hi , first of all this is our first novel , we hope you enjoy it , like we enjoyed writing and planning for it.

We think this novel's idea is new and we haven't read anything like it before.
if you have any comments , we will happily listen and try to fix it in the future , after all it is our first project so finding flaws is completely normal.

It's a hobby but we will try to make a fixed schedule.

Hey, thanks for reading my new book, Black Market Merchant (BMM)! Please click the add to Collections button to get new updates for every additional chapter! Then if you can give me a Vote or Review that will be much appreciated!! I hope you'll enjoy reading my story! 

I also really need your help to improve my writing skill more than anything, and the Writers Prompt Contest #97 had been a huge help for me. I was able to place 4th in the Competition. So thanks for your support! 

Please find any errors and post the error as a paragraph comment or chapter comment at the end of each chapter. I will fix it as soon as possible! I won't say the story is done until all edits are fixed. 

If you like this story, I have one other for you to read, named "Scar Faced Captain". It is a Male Lead Fantasy with a Romantic Under Plot that has everything to do with Revenge. This shorter story is slowly coming along and still being updated with new chapters in the near future. Please give it a read and critical opinion too!

As writing is a hobby for me, I will be doing my best to get chapters out as fast as I can. Now enjoy reading the Black Market Merchant (BMM)!

~Any and all places and/or people mentioned, referenced, and described my be related to real world things. However, their mention in this story are for purely fictional purposes. The writers intentions do not reflect any of what the real world locations or people feel or say.~

https://m.webnovel.com/book/black-market-merchant_18558026206286305

The above link is the new Black Market Merchant location!

All chapters from here will been deleted, updated and transferred to this new location!!! Be sure to add the new story to your Collection!!! Finally all chapters will be re-uploaded on the new location, along with massive changes regarding errors and paragraph restructuring! Thanks everyone for finding them and making this a better experience for all!

As of 11/17/20 I still plan on doing the release rate mentioned prior to this update, so please enjoy reading the fix and polished chapters until Chapter 161: Fishy Fishy (3) is uploaded. Chapter 161 and onwards will all be available soon starting with a 10 chapter mass release, so don't be sad that there will be a wait!

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The tax revenue in the City Lord's mansion was very high. It exceeded 55% in profit margin. However, Wei Huo and the others did not care about that. After the book was published, they launched a new terrifying product—literature.
They sold a novel written in the language of the Atlanteans. At first, the Atlanteans bought the product of their book company out of trust. They did not understand what was going on with this book that was filled with words, but after reading it a few times, they could not look away.
The most terrifying thing was that novels were more readable than picture books. They took longer than books to read as well. Reading a novel could take a long time, but they could not stop.
Wei Huo and the others even started training writers. Their purpose was to have them write stories for their own people.
This was a terrifying cultural invasion. It was self-invasion. The underwater creators injected their desire for freedom into their works. Upon reading such works, the Atlanteans were infected by these thoughts.
The book and novel immediately became popular in the city after being released. They even showed signs of expanding to other cities. The advantage of these two products was that one had to spend very little money on reading, as they did not need to walk or speak. However, they could obtain knowledge while reading.
There was nothing more terrifying than this. Books could give people knowledge, and their price was very low. There was almost no need to spend any money to read them.
Most importantly, if a novel described a scene that could make their hearts beat faster and their faces turn red, they would all have an amused expression on their faces and shout in their hearts, It's so worth it! It's so worth it!
At the same time, all sorts of books were published. The most famous one was Successful Learning. Not only could the terrifying Successful Learning deceive land people, but it could also deceive Atlanteans. What was even more terrifying was that there were several versions of Successful Learning. Every version could sell well.
Soon, the profession of freelance writers appeared in the society of Atlantis. Some writers even wrote bold scenes that made people blush. The works of these writers were often very popular.
Wei Huo and the others' methods had revived the city's market. The city's market was getting better by the day, and its economy was rapidly developing. Taxes were also rising rapidly. The City Lord had even presented the subsidiary company with a medal.
Unfortunately, the nightmare was just beginning…
Some young people started running away from reality and becoming addicted to novels and books. They then gave up their jobs. Some young people chose to start their own businesses in pursuit of their ideals and ended up failing.
Although the economy was rising rapidly, many people had been thrown into jail because they could not walk or breathe.
At that moment, a person controlled by Wei Huo walked down the street and shouted, "I have a dream…"
"New Job: The Orator has appeared."
The Orator went onto the streets to give a speech. He kept walking and talking. "I hope that one day, we will be free to run around the land. I hope that one day, we will be able to talk as much as we want. I hope that one day, we will breathe in big gulps of air even if we are penniless…"
This speech resonated with most ordinary people. They worked all day just to earn a small salary, but they had to spend their money to talk, walk, and breathe. They had no freedom.
At that moment, someone stood up. "Down with moneyism; let's establish a home of freedom!"
People started shouting crazily. They talked about their wishes and were arrested by the police…
At that moment, a person named Liu Huo stood up. He had written a book called Theory of Freedom.
As soon as Theory of Freedom was released, the lower-class citizens of the city started rioting. They wanted to resist the City Lord and protect their freedom!
A terrifying freedom storm was brewing in the city. Wei Huo and the others entered the volcano on the side of the city.
They had learned by paying money that the volcano was not a naturally-formed volcano. However, it was an active volcano.
The golden armor said, "The technology of the Atlanteans has developed to such an extent that they can actually create volcanoes. They are using this method to obtain Earth's internal resources. Will they one day obtain all the resources on Earth?"
The energy in the Earth's inner core was constant. As the energy in the inner core gradually decreased, the Earth would face death sooner or later. The Atlanteans' reckless creation of artificial volcanoes would accelerate the process.
Wei Huo said, "If that had happened, the Atlanteans would have obtained the ability to leave this planet long ago. I don't even suspect that they have this ability now. That's why they can obtain energy from the Earth's core without any worries."
The Atlanteans were more terrifying pests than the land people. The land people seemed to be unrestrained when it came to obtaining Earth's resources, but this was nothing compared to the entire Earth. No matter how hard the land people worked, even if they plowed the Earth with nuclear bombs, what effect would it have on the Earth?
However, the Atlanteans were different. If they continued like this, the Earth's inner core energy would eventually be exhausted by them.
There was only one reason Wei Huo and the others had entered the volcano. They had purchased a precious piece of information. It was the reason why Legendary creatures cultivated in seclusion in the volcano.
The Black Dragon Prime Minister said, "I didn't expect there to be something like Soul Refining Water in the volcano. It can cleanse one's spirit and remove impurities. No wonder Legendary creatures at the bottom of the sea cultivate in the volcano."
Wei Huo checked the information on the Soul Refining Water carefully and said, "The Soul Refining Water is a liquid with a density higher than mercury. It's located deep in the core and will evaporate due to the high temperature. That's why there's a chance that a volcano will emerge in the form of gas. However, it will quickly turn back into liquid because the temperature is not high enough. It will then flow back into the depths of the core and repeat this process."
This kind of thing was too precious. It could cleanse one's spirit after all. This was the greatest temptation for Legendary creatures. In the underwater world, a drop of Soul Refining Water could be priced very expensively.
The golden armor said, "The boiling point of the Soul Refining Water is 6,000 degrees. The temperature in the Earth's core is 6,800 degrees. That's why it can vaporize. After that happens, the Soul Refining Water will increase, but the temperature will decrease during the rise. That way, after reaching 6,000 degrees, the Soul Refining Water will turn back into the Soul Refining Water and flow back into the depths of the Earth's core. That's why one has to go deep into the magma to obtain this liquid."
Xiao Yi said, "It's very difficult to go deep into the magma, but if you use a material like mercury, it will be easier to obtain the Soul Refining Water. The mercury can fuse with the Soul Refining Water and lower its liquefied temperature. It will only liquefy in places where the temperature is lower. That way, the Atlanteans can obtain a mixture of Soul Refining Water and mercury in the shallow magma area. After the mixture is collected, the Soul Refining Water will be refined."
"Pfft!" At that moment, a black worm emerged from the magma. Xiao Yi said, "This black worm is the reason we sent the mercury down. The outer shell of this black worm can withstand high temperatures. During the egg-production period every year, these worms will reach the depths of the Earth's core to lay eggs and die there. However, by injecting the mercury into their bodies ahead of time, they can bring the mercury to that place. Otherwise, even Legendary creatures would not be able to get there."


Wei Huo has been ignored and overlooked by almost everyone his entire life, including God. In a bid to transform the world into a more game-like one, God halted time for all humanity except for Wei Huo, leaving him to fend for himself. The teenager has no choice but to strive for survival whilst waiting for the day humanity’s clock to start ticking again. But wait a minute! What if that wait is longer than a person’s lifespan? Follow Wei Huo on his survival journey in a world infested with mutated beasts and carnivorous plants.

Han Dong stood by the window. 
  
　　Staring at Cass and Sophia who had successfully left the mansion. 
  
　　Lightly touching the 'Raven Mark' on the back of his hands. 
  
　　Shadows flickered and Raven costume enveloped Han Dong's entire body. 
  
　　Going deeper into the secret passageway to the third level of the west building - [Creation Room]. 
  
　　The Little Devil's Eye was rather 'in the way' in the 'foggy environment'. 
  
　　The white mist was so thick that even Han Dong, who had opened the Little Magic Eye, could not see the path. 
  
　　Moreover, the tentacles that were also virtual and real would also distract Han Dong. 
  
　　After Han Dong's careful observation, the tentacles were only illusions made of fog, and were not too dangerous, so he temporarily closed [Little Magic Eye] to facilitate his actions. 
  
　　The vision was normal. 
  
　　There was only a small amount of white mist attached to the ground in the secret passage, so there wouldn't be much interference. 
  
　　The east building and the west building were separated by only a three-meter-thick wall from the building structure. 
  
　　However, this secret passage was designed for reasons and folded back and forth, resulting in a length of dozens of meters, it seemed to deliberately increase the time it took to travel to the third floor of the west building. 
  
　　During the walk, Han Dong carried a portable kerosene lamp for illumination. 
  
　　"Miss Vino, what is the purpose of this profession [Writer]? Seems to have an extremely high status in the Holy City." 
  
　　"You don't even know that? Let me tell you about it briefly, writers are, in private, also known as 'communicators'." 
  
　　"A communicator?" 
  
　　"That's right, not just anyone who writes a little bit can be called a [writer], but only those who are outstandingly gifted in the spiritual dimension can be included in the ranks of [writers]. 
  
　　There are two main functions of a writer. 
  
　　First, to communicate with the 『Destiny Space』. 
  
　　Through their talents, they could often create articles that revealed the secrets of the Destiny Space. 
  
　　Sometimes, they could even write storylines that corresponded to Destiny events, greatly increasing the knights' chances of surviving into the difficult copies. 
  
　　This kind of targeted storytelling would consume a lot of a writer's energy, and would only target the Destiny events above the Knights. 
  
　　In addition, the former Writer's Association in conjunction with the Clock Tower had also developed a 'Fate Codex' that contained the corresponding titles of all events, which was of great significance to the understanding of the Destiny Space. 
  
　　Secondly, some of the [writers] with excellent perception were even able to go outside the city walls at night in their sleep, through creative inspiration combined with their own dreams, in a high-latitude gesture, without being noticed by life outside the city. 
  
　　Giving us very intuitive out-of-town intelligence and advance warning of some dangerous situations. 
  
　　For example, last month, a certain core member of the Craft was able to spy through dreams that a newly built Fallen's lair existed west of the city walls, in a depression nearly four kilometers away. 
  
　　The Order got the information and decisively attacked, annihilating the still-developing high-ranking beings and a spatial rift that had yet to be stabilized. 
  
　　Once the spatial rift is made into a portal by the higher beings and the lair takes shape, it will pose a great threat to the Holy City." 
  
　　"Communicating fate and dreaming outside the city! Is that what a writer is?" 
  
　　"Yes, writers have an important significance to the Holy City, and the relative risk of becoming a writer is extremely high. 
  
　　Writers are more powerful and 'spread out' than we are on the level of the spiritual brain, and are easily targeted by beings from outside the city, and are also susceptible to spiritual influence. 
  
　　Therefore, the Holy City Writers' Association was founded, and its members were given the status of 'knighthood' and allowed to live in the third level. 
  
　　The entire third level was covered by spiritual nodes, further isolating and protecting the writers from remote influences, isolating them as much as possible from the interference of beings outside the city. 
  
　　Unexpectedly, something had still happened, Viscount Alex was considered one of the most important members of the Writer's Association, and this matter had to be investigated to find out the cause and prevent more writers from being affected. Otherwise, it will bring unimaginable harm to the Holy City." 
  
　　As Celeste finished briefly explaining the profession of 'writer'. 
  
　　The two of them also walked out of the passageway and officially arrived at the lobby area on the third floor of the west building. 
  
　　There weren't any stairs, or elevators set up here. 
  
　　To come up directly from the West Tower, one would need to activate some sort of secret passage or elevating folding staircase in order to reach the creation room on this floor. 
  
　　"The Writer's [Creation Room] really needed to be absolutely quiet. 
  
　　Even the location of the windows and the placement of various objects were carefully designed, to create a special 'atmosphere' suitable for creation. 
  
　　The entry of outsiders will disturb the 'energy-field' and affect the creator's mood. 
  
　　Usually, writers are like Alex, having a separate building or layer of creative rooms that are completely off-limits to outsiders." 
  
　　Han Dong sort of understood this, "I see, I thought Cass' Father had some dark secret." 
  
　　The first time they stepped into the place, their vision was already drawn. 
  
　　The front door of the [Main Creation Room] was slightly open a crack, and the naked eye could see a large amount of fog spilling out from within. 
  
　　Open eyes! 
  
　　When the Little Devil's Eye opened again, the scene he saw caused Han Dong to sweat coldly, even as he couldn't help but take a step back. 
  
　　A large amount! 
  
　　Right! Lots of white tentacles crawling all over the doorway. 
  
　　Swaying. 
  
　　Peristalsis, peristalsis 
  
　　It was as if he was beckoning to Han Dong. 
  
　　"What did you see?" 
  
　　"Lots and lots of dense tentacles, more than you can imagine. I'll try to take a look at it, Miss Vino, make sure you keep a distance of at least three meters from me." 
  
　　Buzz! 
  
　　Suddenly. 
  
　　A thin line of holy light formed in Celeste's hand and wrapped around Han Dong's wrist. 
  
　　In the event of any abnormal or crisis situation, Celeste would drag Han Dong back through the thin line of holy light. 
  
　　Phew. 
  
　　Han Dong took a deep breath and temporarily closed the Little Devil's Eye. 
  
　　As much as possible, he blocked out the terrifying images of tentacles dancing wildly in his mind and slowly leaned towards the door. 
  
　　Through the white mist that spilled outwards. 
  
　　Han Dong first faintly saw the figure of a person sitting in front of a desk. 
  
　　In order to get a clearer view, Han Dong turned sideways and slowly squeezed in through the doorway. 
  
　　When he passed through the crack and stood formally inside the room, Han Dong visually saw an eyeball. 
  
　　Han Dong intuitively saw a middle-aged man with reddened eyes, struggling to write in a book, what exactly was written, Han Dong could not see very clearly. 
  
　　Somehow. 
  
　　Even though, Han Dong was clearly just standing at the door of the study, his back was already drenched in cold sweat, an illusion of stepping into an endless abyss, even feeling that if he took another step forward, he would completely fall into the abyss. 
  
　　"I, I need to see more clearly." 
  
　　When Han Dong opened his little devil eyes again. 
  
　　A picture of a lifetime was imprinted into Han Dong's head. 
  
　　The magnificent study no longer had a place to land, and the floor was filled with dense white tentacles. 
  
　　However, the tentacles were only 'trivial'. 
  
　　Han Dong also saw an extra 'intruder'. 
  
　　Beside Viscount Alex, who was struggling with his pen, stood a 'not so clear' guest. 
  
　　A guest whose entire body was covered by yellow robes that could only be seen by the Little Devil's Eye. 
  
　　Why was it called 'not too clear'? 
  
　　It was because in Han Dong's vision, this person did not seem to belong to the current dimension, and there was a black light outline around his body that completely separated him from the study room. 
  
　　Right at this moment. 
  
　　This 'guest' seemed to feel the stranger's gaze and slowly turned his body, his face under the hood about to be exposed to Han Dong's vision. 
  
　　"Vino!!!" 
  
　　At the moment of crisis, Han Dong struggled to shout. 
  
　　For a moment, multiple threads of holy light wrapped around Han Dong's body, pulling him violently away from the study.

Being re-birthed as a cell, Han Dong utilized the power of the Prison code and came into a parallel world where the Ancient Ones have awakened.
A steam powered civilization, horrifying subspaces, the Ancient King of the Eternal Night and strange monsters lurking outside the city.
The door of Destiny has been opened - Crusaders, Library, Control, Machinery and Mysticism would become the new growth system for human development.

Not actually mine .. posting for a friend .. (if u know what i mean)

Grand Hall.

"Judges?"

"Alright, the finals is over."

"Alright, the score has already been tallied."

"I announce that this year's champion for the Beijing Couplet Competition is...Teacher Zhang Ye!"

As the host finished announcing, the audience erupted into applause. There were even screams of praise; it was a very lively scene. Onstage, many of those participants, who had lost convincingly, stood up to applaud Zhang Ye. Some even gave him a thumbs up! There was no other way, Zhang Ye had garnered all the praises. This had been the strangest couplet competition in recent years. Why strange? Does it need to be explained? All the questions had been answered by Zhang Ye alone. That's why Zhang Ye was the only winner. There was no 1st runner-up or 2nd runner-up. All the other 49 contestants had 0 points!

Doesn't this deserve all the applause?

Doesn't this deserve all the respect?

Only Big Thunder did not move; he did not applaud!

Zheng Anbang and the others from the Beijing Writers’ Association were not looking so good. None of them applauded Zhang Ye, but instead lowered their heads and did their own things. They were too petty!

When Zhang Ye saw this sight, he smiled coldly.

The female host smiled. "Let's invite Teacher Zhang up onto the stage to receive the award."

Zhang Ye stood up, went around the side and proceeded towards the stage. He smiled at both of the hosts.

At the side, Elder Qian and the other two judges also walked up. The trophy was prepared beforehand, but they had prepared three trophies to be brought up. Elder Qian held one in his hands; the other two were not of use anymore. Honestly, this was the first time that they had to present an award for such a dominating performance. One person had dominated and finished off all of his opponents. This was an unprecedented happening in all of the competition's history.

"Teacher Little Zhang, congratulations." Elder Qian handed him the trophy.

Zhang Ye accepted it and said, "Thank you for the affirmation of the Teacher judges."

Elder Qian smiled. "It is not our affirmation. This is the glory of your victory. And I believe without me saying, this is a Couplet Competition where the victor is known without any suspense!"

The audience laughed. Yes, this was really was one without any suspense!

The female host said, "Teacher Zhang, say a sentence or two for your acceptance speech?"

"Well, are you sure you want me to say it?" Zhang Ye blinked his eyes.

The male host was surprised. What was there to be sure about? Doesn't every winner of an award say an acceptance speech? Thanking friends, thanking leaders, thanking parents, stuff like that?

But the female host knew the meaning behind Zhang Ye's words, "This..."

"Alright then, I'll say something." Zhang Ye turned to face everyone, and paused for a moment. He said, "I recall.. that someone said I cheated?"

Everybody laughed, treating it as a joke.

Only the people from the Beijing Writers’ Association had ugly expressions. They were thinking, "Aren't you done? Why do you still mention the past? Why are you so petty?"

But in fact, Zhang Ye was a petty person. The more people did not want him to mention something, the more this fellow would mention it. "I want to know who reported me, and I want to ask the comrade from the Beijing Writers’ Association who came on stage a while ago saying I cheated. The judges and comrades from the Couplet Organization had not investigated, and had eventually allowed my participation, but why did you say it in such a certain fashion that I cheated?" He stared at the youth from the Writers' Association offstage, "Shouldn't you apologize to me? This is just the most basic respect, right?"

The youth stared at him with a darkened expression. F**k, apologize, me? Based on what!?

A woman from the Couplet Organization looked at him, "Little Wu, you should really apologize."

"Apologize, Little Wu." Yet another person from the Couplet Organization said. "This is a live broadcast. Everyone is watching. What you previously said onstage was indeed inappropriate. It was too arbitrary and it impacts Teacher Zhang's reputation. It is only because Teacher Zhang Ye reversed the situation, proving that he did not cheat, that the outcome has not become disastrous. Just a few words of yours was enough to destroy a person!"

The youth named Wu did not move. He shut his eyes stubbornly.

Zhang Ye laughed, "Since it's a Couplet Competition today, it's alright if you don't apologize. I'll give you a couplet."

Give a couplet?

Why are you giving a couplet now?

Everyone was stunned and was curious as to what Zhang Ye would say.

The next moment, Zhang Ye said, "Mice, old or young, we call them 'old' (老, lǎo).” Because they are all called mice (老鼠, lǎoshǔ)!

With the next verse, Zhang Ye smiled. "Turtles, male or female, they are surnamed Wu (乌)!" Because they are all called turtles (乌龟, wū guī, also used as a vulgarity, like bastard)!

The youth whose surname was Wu nearly vomited blood! Grand Uncle Zhang Ye! You are too f**king ruthless! He was so angry that he nearly cried out! His face was green! This is a live broadcast program! There were hundreds of thousands of people watching! He scolded him in public? The youth wanted to bury his own head somewhere! He had thought that if he had just refused to apologise, nothing could be done about it. 

But he had forgotten that this person was not any ordinary person. This was that Zhang Ye who had publicly scolded his Leaders at the Silver Microphone Awards! Venomous person! Venomous mouth! His heart was the most venomous! At this moment, the youth really felt regretful. He was numb. If he had known, he would have gone forward to apologise!

The male host was stupefied, "Teacher Zhang!"

The female host, in turn, was not surprised at all. She knew of Zhang Ye's misdeeds before, so she quickly gave him a nudge on his shoes with her feet and whispered, "Teacher, you......"

The audience was also stunned!

But Zhang Ye still had more to say, "This year, I was invited by the Beijing Writers’ Association to participate in this competition. To be able to win it, I would like to thank them, too. Thank you for always supporting me, Writers' Association. I also have a couplet for you all." After saying all that, he immediately said, "A bull's head hopes to grow a pair of dragon's horns."

This sentence was quite usual; no one had a problem with it.

But Zhang Ye's second verse nearly made everyone faint, "But have you ever seen elephant tusks growing out of a dog's mouth (when have you seen a mean fellow speak of nice things)!"

The Beijing Writers’ Association's Leader and members, ".........."

People from the Couplet Organization were covering their mouths and laughing; this was too interesting. The scolding was too wicked!

Of course, Zhang Ye wanted to scold. From the moment he participated, it could be seen that none of those from the Beijing Writers’ Association had pure intentions. They had made it difficult for him from the beginning, resorting to all sorts of tricks. If not for Zhang Ye's wit, his reputation would have been wrecked. His career path would have been cut off. If the accusation of cheating was not proven otherwise, then he wouldn't have been able to clear his name at all. Didn't this justify his revenge? He naturally wanted to take back what was his!

Scolding others?

It's not like I f**king never scolded!

So what if it was live? You are the people I'm cursing!

At this moment, the Beijing Writer's Association's Vice-President Meng Dongguo had come forth from the backstage. He had heard Zhang Ye publicly scolding their Writers' Association. In his moment of rage, he didn't care that this was a live broadcast anymore. He snatched a microphone and argued with Zhang Ye, "Zhang Ye, you are good at couplets, aren't you? Then I will give you a question, too. Listen up! Two apes breaking branches deep in the forest; a little monkey dares to have seen it, too?" This was a homonymic first verse. ‘Seen it too’ was equivalent to matching a couplet; he was scolding Zhang Ye!

Zhang Ye was overjoyed. This first verse was also remembered when he was searching his memories. He immediately retorted, "Then you listen up, too! A horse steps into dirty mud; how can the old beast (bast**d) raise its hooves!" Raise its hooves was equivalent to giving a question!

"Alright!"

"So beautifully matched!"

"Hahahaha! I'm so amused!"

"Teacher Zhang Ye is a god!"

The audience could not help but laugh out loud!

Meng Dongguo, "....&%#@*) *&@@! ! !"

Vice-President Meng's couplet-matching skill was not that deep, otherwise he would have taken part. He could not match Zhang Ye at it, which is why he lost the moment he attacked!

But Zhang Ye did not let him off, "Since you gave me a question, then I shall give you a question, too. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7!"

Eh?

What's this question about?

There were rarely couplets that stopped at 7. If he wanted to give the first verse, shouldn't it be 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8? Why did he forget about the 8?

Zhang Ye then looked at him, "Can't match it? Then let me give you the second verse. Xiào tì zhōng xìn lǐ yì lián (filial piety, respect, loyalty, trust courtesy, uprightness, honesty)!"

That was not right!

The second verse was not correct either!

Xiào tì zhōng xìn lǐ yì lián (filial piety, respect, loyalty, trust courtesy, uprightness, honesty)? What about shame? Why is shame not in there?

But who can be a fool for long? A few contestants thought for a moment and quickly analyzed the metaphor of this couplet, "The first verse had forgotten about 8?  The second verse lacked a shame? This is.... forgetting 8 lacking shame (bast**d with no shame)? F**k!"

Bast**d?

No shame?

Meng Dongguo nearly exploded with anger! Zhang! You are scolding people now?

The male host, nervous with sweat, hurriedly tried to talk them out of an argument, "Our two Teachers, the two of you, say less, say less. The cameras are still...." This is what you called literary people! Their scolding didn't even have any vulgarities in them!

Meng Dongguo didn't care anymore. He said directly to Zhang Ye, "In such a setting, you publicly scolded the Beijing Writers’ Association, insulted our Writers' Association's staff, insulted the people who invited you? Well, well, now I can put it clearly here: a person like you, even if you are a talent, our Beijing Writers’ Association will never have you!"

Isn't this the pot calling the kettle black?

And you act like everything about you was correct?

When you wanted to step on me, you just stepped! When I fought back? All of you began using reasoning to press me down? Just because you are the authoritative body? So that makes you reasonable? What the heck!

Zhang Ye was extremely bemused, holding the microphone, looking at all those angry and speechless Beijing Writers’ Association's members. He said his last words, a doggerel. Its origins were from a famous crosstalker in his previous world - Guo Degang. Guo Degang's doggerels were considered one of a kind, with them being highly controversial. The one that he used to scold the Beijing Radio Station's Leader had especially attracted all sorts of criticisms from industry insiders. But today, Zhang Ye had selected another one of Teacher Guo's doggerels. It was written by Guo Degang after he was uninvited by the New Year's Gala organizers. It had a very special feel and was also very meaningful.

"Madness and ailing grass, difficulty in discerning. The plum blossoms seemed trimmed, coldness outside the walls. The icy sky is like jade, the silver branches seemed buried as dust. Pushing the blanket into the snow, open your eyes and stop acting nice, returning after traveling the Jiang province, with the poem done and alcohol drunk, the world seems small."

Up to here, many had not understood it.

What poem was this? Was it a doggerel?

Zhang Ye even knew doggerels? This was really the first time they had heard about it!

But after hearing the final part of Zhang Ye's poem, they finally understood and laughed out loud, "Embracing beauty, lamenting how life is all about fame and fortune." At this point, Zhang Ye narrowed his eyes and looked towards Meng Dongguo and the people from the Writers' Association. "Open your drunken eyes slightly. No matter how you succeed or fail..." With a laugh, "It's not like I'll come!"

It's not like I'll come?

They said that they were not going to invite him into the association! And he came up with such a doggerel?

Hahaha! What a good "it's not like I'll come"! A lot of the audience members were tickled by this!


Zhang Ye was originally a mundane college graduate with aspiring dreams to become a star, but unfortunately has below average looks and height. However one day, he woke up and suddenly found himself in a parallel world! 
It’s like the same world, but wait a minute…many brands, celebrities and even famous works from his world changed and are gone in this new world! Armed with the profound literary knowledge of his previous world and a heaven-defying Game Ring that gives him magical items, stats and skills, Zhang Ye embarks on a journey to pursue his life-long dream of becoming famous!
Follow Zhang Ye as he takes the new world by storm, one plagiarized piece at a time, to hilarious reactions!

I was sitting in my office and was about to write a story I had no idea what to write I just finished training after I graduated University from three years, those three years were the worst years for my friend Elijah smith and I was the fault he died, but I had to do it for his sake. My assistant Harry brings up an idea "Sir why don't you write something that has already happened... like in the past two or three years" he says.
"I don't want to write about something that has happened for my first story"

" you don't have to write the exact details maybe change the plot, the characters and the setting and I'm telling you I've been an assistant writer for many years many of other writers did that"
"give me examples of writers who did that"
"well there's Michael Cunningham, Virginia Woolf, Priya Parmar and many other people"
"I've got an idea about what I can write about" I start a new story and a new chapter on Webnovel and start writing". (This is not real I'm not a writer)


STORY
I was out with my best friend Elijah Smith we have just graduated University a year ago and we are now writers in training. We were in a café with another friend called Joseph but we called him Joey for short the café was full and we had to wait fifteen minutes to get this table there were four seats and a table but someone came and asked us for the fourth one. We were sitting around chating until the conversation stopped and everything went quiet then Joey brings up something, "Eli why do want to get engaged with Lucy I mean I know you guys have been dating for three years now but do you really think you guys are there"
"yeah our anniversary is in a month and I would like to surprise her with an engagement" he says.
"when your ever in a conversation with Lucy when you get married remember these two words 'yes dear' it's just some advice" they both smile after I made the joke.
"Her mother isn't dead right?" Joey asks. "no she's still alive"
"Good luck" me and Joey say
"okay guys calm down... I mean I love Lucy and she's really cute"
"after three years of marriage I dare you to say that again" I say. Then the waiter shows up and asks us for our orders, I order a latte and a slice of chocolate cake, Joey orders black tea and a doughnut and Eli orders a cappuccino and a cookie. "I have something to tell you sir 'when I said I do I didn't mean laundry'" the waiter says and walks off and we all laugh, "how long was he eavesdropping" I say while laughing. As we were eating Eli grabbed his cookie and took a bite, "well I guess were all treating ourselves with high calorie foods" Joey says. "it's our off day from our diet" Eli says. "Joey your skinny I've lost a ton of weight so I'm treating myself and Eli is really lucky with his chiselled body" Eli's phone rings then he answers it and his face goes pale, sad and empty then he says "Sorry guys I have to go" he says quickly and runs off we follow him but the waiter says "sirs you can't dine and ditch" we ask him for the price and pay then we follow Eli.

Eli was heading to his home and as we go up the stairs we hear screams we were together quiet we were less shocked than him judging from his speed he goes to his dad's room and his mom and sister were beside him crying he goes to him and sheds tears of sorrow and sadness we both knew his dad really well he was really funny and healthy and it was his day to leave this world, me and Joey were sad and we were watching them cry upon his father's dead body, Eli shouts and says call  an ambulance me and joey call an ambulance and the expectations were true he really died It was the first time I see Eli this heartbroken as if he was crying and snivelling me and Joey spent the day with him, so we can keep him company this day started Eli's bad personality.

In a city with a population of zero, a threatening idea comes to a bored man. His name is Leonardo De Rossi he had black hair, grey eyes, pale skin, and a chiseled body. He creates a gang to obtain wealth. He gets members to join him, and his brother Alessandro De Rossi. Alessandro had Brown hair and grey eyes, and a less muscular body than his brother's. He makes this gang get money, power, and a valuable item he has his eyes on. He goes on an adventure of crime and theft. Will he and his gang survive this life, or will they end up dead or locked up.

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