Undertale, adalah sebuah game bergenre VRMMORPG yang sangat di gemari para gamers. Seorang pemain peringkat tinggi menerima kontrak dari developer game tersebut untuk membuat demonstrasi dari fungsi baru yang akan di luncurkan oleh developer game.

Sebagai pemimpin Guild Top Circle, Andika memiliki kewajiban untuk memimpin anggotanya untuk melaksanakan kontrak yang telah dia setujui dengan developer game.

Pada awalnya, semuanya berjalan dengan sempurna tanpa hambatan yang signifikan. Namun sebuah insiden yang tidak terduga terjadi ketika Andika akan menerima hadiah dari misi tersebut. Andika secara tiba-tiba dipindahkan ke dunia lain seorang diri, tanpa teman-temannya yang mengikutinya.



"You're impossible." 

"Completely impossible." 

"You lied to us, again." 

"How can you do this to us? We've worked so hard to give you a good start in life." 

"You're so ungrateful." 

"Totally ungrateful." 

"Look at us! Look at us when we're talking to you." 

I looked, as requested. At my parents, standing side by side, their faces full of righteous indignation. I knew that scene only too well. It was played out at least once a month; I really didn't need to look. I didn't need to listen either; I'd heard all that stuff many times before. 

They were silent now, glaring at me. I stared at the spot of wall between their heads, specifically at Keith Richards' red thumbnail. I had a cool poster with Keith Richards, the Rolling Stone, on the wall of my room: a head-and-shoulders portrait in which he was supporting his chin with his fist. His thumbnail had been painted scarlet red, contrasting nicely with his black hair and a green-and-white floral pattern shirt. He was looking at the camera, and thus at me, with his trademark fuck-you smile. I felt my own lips begin to curl in response, and quickly squeezed them together. This wasn't the right moment to give my parents a fuck-you smile. 

Too late; they'd noticed, and they exchanged knowing looks before my father began puffing himself up for his big speech. They invariably followed the same pattern: an intro filled with complaints and accusations, followed by the Big Speech, in which my father summarized my assorted misdeeds and transgressions, and sometimes announced a punishment. The ending was supplied by my mother. She always acted out a short play named How You Make Us Suffer, full of dramatic gestures. My mother is a drama queen. She loves making hysterical speeches. I give her inspiration, I am her male muse. She should be grateful, really. 

My father, always the professional diplomat, said: 

"What have you got to say for yourself?" 

"Yes. We would very much like to hear what you've got to say for yourself. How can you explain... How can you explain all... this." My mother's final gesture seemed to include the entire universe. I was tempted to tell her I couldn't explain all that because I wasn't a god, but of course I didn't. 

But they noticed, they always do, they knew I wanted to say something. They both leaned forward expectantly, preparing arguments that would destroy anything I said in my defense. I stayed silent. A clever German guy called Goethe once said: never get into an argument with fools. They'll drag you down to their own level, and defeat you with experience. 

 I stayed silent even though I had plenty to say to them. Hell, I could easily keep going for hours if I was allowed a sip of water now and then. I would start by informing them that they'd lied to me, too. They constantly told me I was wonderful for the first four-five years of my life. There were shrieks of delight whenever I did something: used a spoon to eat my food, took a shit sitting on the toilet, said a new word. Then complaints appeared, more and more as time went on. For the past couple of years, all I heard were recriminations. At first I took them seriously, and became suicidal. It made me realize that I had only one life, and that I sure as hell didn't want to share it with my parents. 

The last time they were nice to me was when I graduated high school. Right after that, we had a big fight: I told them that I wanted to study art at the Ecole des beaux-arts in Montreal. They wouldn't understand why I had to go to Montreal when I could study at the University of Toronto, and live at home. I couldn't tell them that was the whole point: to move away from home. It was another of those useless family discussions that go nowhere because no one says what's really on their mind. However, this particular talk ended with my father declaring that he didn't support my move, and thus wouldn't help me out financially. 

He scored a good hit there, because I needed money for the Montreal move. But I surprised both them and myself by getting a couple of part-time jobs. I'm not going to talk in detail about those, because they were fucking awful. I want to forget that particular experience as quickly as possible. 

I spent almost a whole year working in those two jobs, and managed to save just over a thousand dollars. I should have been able to save more, but guess what happened: right after I started work, my dear dad informed me that since I was making money, I should contribute to the household expenses. He used the term 'a symbolic contribution' because my monthly payment would be less than what he sometimes spent on single visit to a restaurant. The thing was, he could easily spend the equivalent of my weekly wage on a single visit to a restaurant; he liked good restaurants, and aperitifs and wine and all that shit. 

What really hurt in all this was that my parents had plenty of money. That's why I couldn't get a stipend; I had to provide household income information on the application form, and the woman who took in my papers just laughed in my face. And so I spent ten months washing dishes in a scuzzy eatery at lunchtime and serving beer in a rundown bar in the evenings, turning over one of my two weekly paychecks to my father every month. After eight months of this, back in June, I applied to the Ecole des beaux-arts de Montreal and was accepted. 

It was August now, and I had already quit both of my jobs. I would be starting my studies in just two months' time. I had to make a trip there first to find a place to stay, and hopefully another part-time job, because most of the money I'd saved up would be spent on tuition. I told my parents about that right after breakfast: it was a Sunday, the traditional day for heavy-duty family conversations. I wanted to leave on Monday - the very next day. That was what led to the fight we were having, though maybe 'fight' is the wrong word. It was like a court session where the accused has been found guilty and condemned even before the trial has started. 

I was sitting on my bed, not saying anything. They were still pretending to wait for me to say something; pretending, because what they were actually doing was trying to think of a decisive argument that would make me fold, roll over, and tearfully ask for forgiveness. I had no intention of doing that. The silence grew heavier with each passing second. Eventually my father said, somewhat triumphantly: 

"So, you have nothing to say for yourself." 

I had intended to freeze them out with total silence; I knew from experience that this was the best way to cut the scene short. But I couldn't let that remark go unanswered. I said: 

"I've actually got plenty. I would tell you if I knew you would listen, and try to understand. But I know you won't. So why don't we all give ourselves a break here. You're already late for your barbecue." They had been invited to a Sunday barbecue by friends of theirs, and had earlier tried to force me into going along. I refused, which made made them all the more angry. 

I could tell from my father's face that he was about to tell me to go ahead and say whatever I wanted to say, so that he could pick it apart and stomp on the pieces; as mentioned earlier, he is a professional diplomat, and he's good at that kind of thing. But my mother interrupted him with a passionate cry: 

"Don't you tell us what to do!" 

She had raised her voice, and within seconds we were all shouting at each other. That was how a lot of conversations with my parents ended these days. A minute later, it was all over: they left my room, with my father forgetting that he was a professional diplomat and slamming the door on his way out. 

As soon as they were gone, I got out my pack of Rothmans and lit a cigarette. I started smoking when I was fourteen. I fell in love with smoking with my very first cigarette. I'd always liked the smell of tobacco smoke, and I was never sick after smoking the way many kids are. As you can imagine, my smoking didn't improve the relation with my parents. They did a lot of shouting and stopped my pocket money, but that didn't stop me. I cadged smokes from the my two friends at school who also were smokers, and stole the packs my parents' guests left behind in their drunken stupor. My parents held dinner parties at least twice a month and I only smoked a couple of cigarettes a day at that time, so I got by. 

By the time I finished high school, I'd also smoked pot a few times, and loved it too. Marijuana has different effects on different people: it made me completely relaxed. My worries would just fade away. I kissed a girl for the first time in my life when I was stoned; I would have been too uptight to kiss her otherwise. Had I been straight and sober, I would've probably just sat there, and mumbled some nonsense or other. The sad truth is that when I'm straight and sober, I worry all the time. I worry about all the stupid things I've done, stretching all the way back to early childhood; I worry about what's happening right there and then, and about things to come. It drives me fucking crazy. Cigarettes take the edge off, while pot or alcohol or both erase the worries completely. I don't have to get heavily stoned or drunk for that to happen; a toke or a beer are enough. 

You must be thinking that I'm really fucked up by now. Yeah, okay. So I'm fucked up. But you know something: if you've got a working brain and a heart, so are you. The only people who aren't fucked up are people who are brain-dead, and/or incapable of deeper emotions. Of course we all have to keep up a front, we all have to hide our painful little secrets. It's a question of coping. My coping strategy involves cigarettes, the occasional joint, and a beer or some wine or whatever from time to time. That's all there is to it, and there's nothing fucked up about it. A lot of people use that coping strategy too, if you look around you'll find it's pretty popular. 

I stood by the window smoking cigarettes until my parents' car finally pulled out of the driveway. I felt a huge relief when it disappeared from sight. The street was empty and silent: a typical Sunday in Toronto. Living in Toronto is - no, that's the wrong word, it should be DYING in Toronto, it's a city where a small part of you dies every day even though physically you're just fine. Back in the fifties, you weren't even allowed to play with a ball in a park on a Sunday. The storefronts were all covered up with brown paper, so that people wouldn't commit the sin of shopping with their eyes. You couldn't even go and see a fucking movie, the first Sunday they allowed cinemas to open there were lineups stretching around the block. If you wanted to buy any liquor, you had to have a doctor's prescription. I'm serious. There would be a doctor or two in every liquor store, standing near the entrance with a prescription pad ready. That's how fucked up Toronto used to be, and still is in many ways. 

And that, really, was one of the reasons I wanted to study in Montreal. Montreal is in Quebec, and in Quebec things are different. French people seem to have a special talent for enjoying life, and it's something you see very sharply when you arrive in Montreal, fresh out of Toronto. But then they had to screw it all up with their stupid liberation movement. They actually had martial law there couple of years back - soldiers in full combat gear on the streets, armored vehicles, helicopters, the works - because the Front de liberation du Quebec started a bombing campaign. They also kidnapped the Deputy Premier of Quebec and a British diplomat. The diplomat was released later, but they killed the Deputy Premier and a whole lot of shit came crashing down. This gave my parents one of their best arguments against my studying in Montreal: that it was dangerous over there. It was bullshit, the martial law thing was over after a few months. But I still hate the fucking Front de liberation du Quebec, I hope that they will all rot in hell. 

I waited a few minutes to make sure that my parents were really gone; sometimes they'd find out they'd forgotten something, and return to pick it up. Then I went downstairs and made a beeline for the booze cabinet. I was out of luck: there were only a couple of bottles that I could drink from without fear of discovery. All the others were unopened, nearly empty, or nearly full. I took a swig of Bacardi rum, then walked out on the backyard deck and smoked another cigarette, waiting for the alcohol to hit me. When it did, I had a big swig of Crown Royal - it has this broad-shouldered bottle that makes it possible to steal quite a lot unnoticed when it's three-quarters full. 

My plan was to spend the day packing and generally preparing for my trip the next day, but I didn't feel like it any more. I sat down on the back deck instead, smoking cigarettes, staring at the vegetation, the birds, the sky. I enjoyed the sun on my face, the silence, the peace. 

I sat like that for several hours. Then I went back into the house, had some more Crown Royal, and realized that I was very hungry. I picked up the phone and ordered a pizza, I didn't feel like mucking around with the frozen dinners in the fridge. When the pizza arrived, I tipped the delivery guy lavishly without worrying that I was spending my savings, then ate the whole thing in one go - it was great. After that, I didn't feel like packing and preparing at all. I went upstairs to my room and smoked a couple of cigarettes lying on my bed and staring at the ceiling, imagining all sorts of cool things that would happen once I got settled down in Montreal. 

Before long, I began feeling sleepy; I didn't sleep well the previous night. It was still early, the sun was just beginning to set. But I said to myself what the hell, pulled the curtains shut, took off my clothes, and got into bed. 

I was asleep the moment my head touched the pillow.

On the 10th of August, 1972, almost exactly ten months after my eighteenth birthday, I left my home and cut all ties with my family. This is the story of what happened next: to me, to people I knew, and to the world.

NOTE: All of the characters in this story are fictitious; however, many of the events described really took place. One of these, the  Montreal Museum of Fine Arts robbery in 1972, was the greatest theft of art in Canadian history.
It remains an unsolved mystery to this day, and is the first of many historical events that will involve the hero of this story.

                        Ryan actually wanted a map in paper form for him, but somehow, Mark was convinced that carrying such a detailed map around wasn't a good idea. So, all the information he had in the base had been digitalized. He talked as if the monsters ate all the hackers in the world…
"We found around fifty species of monsters in our country, but that doesn't mean we have to deal with fifty dungeons," Mark explained. "As you already know, some dungeons spawn the same monsters."
"Yeah," Ryan nodded.
"As for the precise number of dungeons, based on the dungeons already cleared and the places where we can find a vast concentration of monsters… we conclude that we have 204 dungeons in our country at this moment," Mark explained.
"At this moment?" Ryan frowned. "What do you mean by that?"
"Yes, because we saw seven new dungeons appearing over the last week," Mark answered. "Although they didn't spawn a new species of monsters and they start to spawn level one monsters, we are worried about them."
                        Ryan nodded… it made sense that new dungeons could appear since other sapient beings were controlling them. Still, considering their goals, even though they were still unknown, it seemed like a bad idea to create dungeons when other creatures already dominated some areas, and most humans have died.
"If you don't mind, I would you to tell me the jobs you could have obtained on the dungeons you cleared," Mark said.
"I guess that is fine…" Ryan said since the chances of them learning every single class he chose were close to none.
"Mmm… those Summoner and Beastmaster class seem pretty interesting," John said, visibly interested. "They would be very useful on the hands of those who don't want to join the front lines."
"Indeed," Mark nodded. "Ryan, the survivors you brought the other day mentioned that you used monsters to train them. Can you tell us your thoughts about these classes?"
"… They are useful, but you need a lot of mana to use them properly," Ryan said. "One of the skills of the summoner class needs five hundred points of mana to be used. As for the Beastmaster class, you need to beat the monster before making them join your side."
"That is a lot of mana," Lilian said. "Most non-combatants survivors don't focus on a single attribute like that. I suppose if they want to obtain those classes, they will have to increase their mana by meditating for a few months."
"On the good side, the coins the monsters earn go directly to you," Ryan added. "If you have confidence in your monsters' strength, you can do like me and use them to seal some dungeons."
"That seems interesting," Danie said. "By the way, you seem a lot calmer today, Ryan. Did something happen?"
"Come to think of it, I didn't fuck you today, did I?" Ryan asked.
"I don't remember you ever saying that," Daniel smiled and then stopped when he saw a vein throbbing on Ryan's forehead.
"Back to the topic," Mark said. "We also should monitor the level of strength of the monsters and the date the dungeon is likely to break. Some of us can use Appraisal, but I guess you saw most dungeons of this entire group. Can I ask you to write the attributes of the monsters you see on a piece of paper?"
"That will cost you," Ryan said.
"Fair enough," Mark nodded. "How about one thousand coins for each type of monster you gather their data and more one thousand for each upgrade in their status that you consider noteworthy?"
"That will do," Ryan nodded.
                        In the end, Ryan will have to make use of low-level dungeons to level skills like Flash, so he actually won't lose anything by doing that. Besides, if the base survivors obtain some item and decide to sell, Ryan might hit the jackpot since it would be natural to sell anything below the price of the dungeon shops.
"So, which direction are you going to follow?" Mark asked. "We managed to find some survivors in the last few days, but honestly, I don't think we will achieve much success in the future in these conditions and after the second dungeon breaks. So, it is finally time to focus on strengthening ourselves."
                        Mark was pretty bold. Even though the population will increase, he wanted to make sure he won't send the survivors to areas where Ryan and probably Alissa is going to go. That made sense, but it was quite risky.
"Mmm… the Fenrir bosses are between Toronto and Montreal, right?" Ryan asked. "It is pretty close to New York… considering that there are routes to reach the ocean even from there, maybe I can find the megalodons as well. I guess I am going to check things there. I can't let those monsters eat all the dragon hearts."
                        Although Ryan's reasoning seemed pretty selfish, no one could complain since going there was also risky. Truth to be told, they were expecting that Alissa would go to that area at some point to ease their worries, but telling her what to do was anything but easy.
"On your way, you will find Salamanders, skeletons, and earthworms," Mark said. "The path will be hard since we didn't explore anything in that direction yet, so the number of monsters will be high. Once you cross the border, you will find the Dire Wolves. Those are the monsters that the Fenrir's dungeons spawn."
                        Dire wolf… that was a terrifying name. Still, Ryan wasn't that worried about it because he will have plenty of time to train the skills that he needed. Besides, that part of the continent was pretty cold this time of the year, so it was the perfect chance for Ryan to make good use of his Icebound.
"Should I pack some thick clothes for the cold, or should I just level up that skill? I guess I won't pack anything. I will need to discipline myself in those harsh conditions. Otherwise, I won't win against the monsters when they have the advantage of the terrain."


After losing his parents in a car accident, Ryan immediately caught his fiancee cheating on him with his best friend. In just a few days, he lost everything he loved, so Ryan decided to buy a house in the mountains to process all those events. However, something happened before he could even enter his new home: the end of the world.

Monsters began to appear out of nowhere, and dragons began to dominate the skies. After losing everything, Ryan, who had lost his sense of reality, found new goals with the world in that state: survive and get stronger. Dungeons, classes, monsters, skills, the chance to obtain the DNA of other monsters... Ryan was decided to use them all because he no longer would become a spectator in his own life. Maybe with power, he won't lose anything anymore.

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Discord Server: https://discord.gg/bd9aDdEeQK

"You're impossible."
"Completely impossible."
"You lied to us, again."
"How can you do this to us? We've worked so hard to give you a good start in life."
"You're so ungrateful."
"Totally ungrateful."
"Look at us! Look at us when we're talking to you."

I looked, as requested. At my parents, standing side by side, their faces full of righteous indignation. I knew that scene only too well. It was played out at least once a month; I really didn't need to look. I didn't need to listen either; I'd heard all that stuff many times before.

They were silent now, glaring at me. I stared at the spot of wall between their heads, specifically at Keith Richards' red thumbnail. I had a cool poster with Keith Richards, the Rolling Stone, on the wall of my room: a head-and-shoulders portrait in which he was supporting his chin with his fist. His thumbnail had been painted scarlet red, contrasting nicely with his black hair and a green-and-white floral pattern shirt. He was looking at the camera, and thus at me, with his trademark fuck-you smile. I felt my own lips begin to curl in response, and quickly squeezed them together. This wasn't the right moment to give my parents a fuck-you smile.

Too late; they'd noticed, and they exchanged knowing looks before my father began puffing himself up for his big speech. They invariably followed the same pattern: an intro filled with complaints and accusations, followed by the Big Speech, in which my father summarized my assorted misdeeds and transgressions, and sometimes announced a punishment. The ending was supplied by my mother. She always acted out a short play named How You Make Us Suffer, full of dramatic gestures. My mother is a drama queen. She loves making hysterical speeches. I give her inspiration, I am her male muse. She should be grateful, really.

My father, always the professional diplomat, said:
"What have you got to say for yourself?"
"Yes. We would very much like to hear what you've got to say for yourself. How can you explain... How can you explain all... this." My mother's final gesture seemed to include the entire universe. I was tempted to tell her I couldn't explain all that because I wasn't a god, but of course I didn't.

But they noticed, they always do, they knew I wanted to say something. They both leaned forward expectantly, preparing arguments that would destroy anything I said in my defense. I stayed silent. A clever German guy called Goethe once said: never get into an argument with fools. They'll drag you down to their own level, and defeat you with experience.

 I stayed silent even though I had plenty to say to them. Hell, I could easily keep going for  hours if I was allowed a sip of water now and then. I would start by informing them that they'd lied to me, too. They constantly told me I was wonderful for the first four-five years of my life. There were shrieks of delight whenever I did something: used a spoon to eat my food, took a shit sitting on the toilet, said a new word. Then complaints appeared, more and more as time went on. For the past couple of years, all I heard were recriminations. At first I took them seriously, and became suicidal. It made me realize that I had only one life, and that I sure as hell didn't want to share it with my parents.

The last time they were nice to me was when I graduated high school. Right after that, we had a big fight: I told them that I wanted to study art at the Ecole des beaux-arts in Montreal. They wouldn't understand why I had to go to Montreal when I could study at the University of Toronto, and live at home. I couldn't tell them that was the whole point: to move away from home. It was another of those useless family discussions that go nowhere because no one says what's really on their mind. However, this particular talk ended with my father declaring that he didn't support my move, and thus wouldn't help me out financially.

He scored a good hit there, because I needed money for the Montreal move. But I surprised both them and myself by getting a couple of part-time jobs. I'm not going to talk in detail about those, because they were fucking awful. I want to forget that particular experience as quickly as possible.

I spent almost a whole year working in those two jobs, and managed to save just over a thousand dollars. I should have been able to save more, but guess what happened: right after I started work, my dear dad informed me that since I was making money, I should contribute to the household expenses. He used the term 'a symbolic contribution' because my monthly payment would be less than what he sometimes spent on single visit to a restaurant. The thing was, he could easily spend the equivalent of my weekly wage on a single visit to a restaurant; he liked good restaurants, and aperitifs and wine and all that shit.

What really hurt in all this was that my parents had plenty of money. That's why I couldn't get a stipend; I had to provide household income information on the application form, and the woman who took in my papers just laughed in my face. And so I spent ten months washing dishes in a scuzzy eatery at lunchtime and serving beer in a rundown bar in the evenings, turning over one of my two weekly paychecks to my father every month. After eight months of this, back in June, I applied to the Ecole des beaux-arts de Montreal and was accepted.

It was August now, and I had already quit both of my jobs. I would be starting my studies in just two months' time. I had to make a trip there first to find a place to stay, and hopefully another part-time job, because most of the money I'd saved up would be spent on tuition. I told my parents about that right after breakfast: it was a Sunday, the traditional day for heavy-duty family conversations. I wanted to leave on Monday - the very next day. That was what led to the fight we were having, though maybe 'fight' is the wrong word. It was like a court session where the accused has been found guilty and condemned even before the trial has started.

I was sitting on my bed, not saying anything. They were still pretending to wait for me to say something; pretending, because what they were actually doing was trying to think of a decisive argument that would make me fold, roll over, and tearfully ask for forgiveness. I had no intention of doing that. The silence grew heavier with each passing second. Eventually my father said, somewhat triumphantly:

"So, you have nothing to say for yourself."

I had intended to freeze them out with total silence; I knew from experience that this was the best way to cut the scene short. But I couldn't let that remark go unanswered. I said:

"I've actually got plenty. I would tell you if I knew you would listen, and try to understand. But I know you won't. So why don't we all give ourselves a break here. You're already late for your barbecue." They had been invited to a Sunday barbecue by friends of theirs, and had earlier tried to force me into going along. I refused, which made made them all the more angry.

I could tell from my father's face that he was about to tell me to go ahead and say whatever I wanted to say, so that he could pick it apart and stomp on the pieces; as mentioned earlier, he is a professional diplomat, and he's good at that kind of thing. But my mother interrupted him with a passionate cry:

"Don't you tell us what to do!"

She had raised her voice, and within seconds we were all shouting at each other. That was how a lot of conversations with my parents ended these days. A minute later, it was all over: they left my room, with my father forgetting that he was a professional diplomat and slamming the door on his way out.

As soon as they were gone, I got out my pack of Rothmans and lit a cigarette. I started smoking when I was fourteen. I fell in love with smoking with my very first cigarette. I'd always liked the smell of tobacco smoke, and I was never sick after smoking the way many kids are. As you can imagine, my smoking didn't improve the relation with my parents. They did a lot of shouting and stopped my pocket money, but that didn't stop me. I cadged smokes from the my two friends at school who also were smokers, and stole the packs my parents' guests left behind in their drunken stupor. My parents held dinner parties at least twice a month and I only smoked a couple of cigarettes a day at that time, so I got by.

By the time I finished high school, I'd also smoked pot a few times, and loved it too. Marijuana has different effects on different people: it made me completely relaxed. My worries would just fade away. I kissed a girl for the first time in my life when I was stoned;  I would have been too uptight to kiss her otherwise. Had I been straight and sober, I would've probably just sat there, and mumbled some nonsense or other. The sad truth is that when I'm straight and sober, I worry all the time. I worry about all the stupid things I've done, stretching all the way back to early childhood; I worry about what's happening right there and then, and about things to come. It drives me fucking crazy. Cigarettes take the edge off, while pot or alcohol or both erase the worries completely. I don't have to get heavily stoned or drunk for that to happen; a toke or a beer are enough.

You must be thinking that I'm really fucked up by now. Yeah, okay. So I'm fucked up. But you know something: if you've got a working brain and a heart, so are you. The only people who aren't fucked up are people who are brain-dead, and/or incapable of deeper emotions. Of course we all have to keep up a front, we all have to hide our painful little secrets. It's a question of coping. My coping strategy involves cigarettes, the occasional joint, and a beer or some wine or whatever from time to time. That's all there is to it, and there's nothing fucked up about it. A lot of people use that coping strategy too, if you look around you'll find it's pretty popular.

I stood by the window smoking cigarettes until my parents' car finally pulled out of the driveway. I felt a huge relief when it disappeared from sight. The street was empty and silent: a typical Sunday in Toronto. Living in Toronto is - no, that's the wrong word, it should be DYING in Toronto, it's a city where a small part of you dies every day even though physically you're just fine. Back in the fifties, you weren't even allowed to play with a ball in a park on a Sunday. The storefronts were all covered up with brown paper, so that people wouldn't commit the sin of shopping with their eyes. You couldn't even go and see a fucking movie, the first Sunday they allowed cinemas to open there were lineups stretching around the block. If you wanted to buy any liquor, you had to have a doctor's prescription. I'm serious. There would be a doctor or two in every liquor store, standing near the entrance with a prescription pad ready. That's how fucked up Toronto used to be, and still is in many ways.

And that, really, was one of the reasons I wanted to study in Montreal. Montreal is in Quebec, and in Quebec things are different. French people seem to have a special talent for enjoying life, and it's something you see very sharply when you arrive in Montreal, fresh out of Toronto. But then they had to screw it all up with their stupid liberation movement. They actually had martial law there couple of years back - soldiers in full combat gear on the streets, armored vehicles, helicopters, the works - because the Front de liberation du Quebec started a bombing campaign. They also kidnapped the Deputy Premier of Quebec and a British diplomat. The diplomat was released later, but they killed the Deputy Premier and a whole lot of shit came crashing down. This gave my parents one of their best arguments against my studying in Montreal: that it was dangerous over there. It was bullshit, the martial law thing was over after a few months. But I still hate the fucking Front de liberation du Quebec, I hope that they will all rot in hell.

I waited a few minutes to make sure that my parents were really gone; sometimes they'd find out they'd forgotten something, and return to pick it up. Then I went downstairs and made a beeline for the booze cabinet. I was out of luck: there were only a couple of bottles that I could drink from without fear of discovery. All the others were unopened, nearly empty, or nearly full. I took a swig of Bacardi rum, then walked out on the backyard deck and smoked another cigarette, waiting for the alcohol to hit me. When it did, I had a big swig of Crown Royal - it has this broad-shouldered bottle that makes it possible to steal quite a lot unnoticed when it's three-quarters full.

My plan was to spend the day packing and generally preparing for my trip the next day, but I didn't feel like it any more. I sat down on the back deck instead, smoking cigarettes, staring at the vegetation, the birds, the sky. I enjoyed the sun on my face, the silence, the peace.

I sat like that for several hours. Then I went back into the house, had some more Crown Royal, and realized that I was very hungry. I picked up the phone and ordered a pizza, I didn't feel like mucking around with the frozen dinners in the fridge. When the pizza arrived, I tipped the delivery guy lavishly without worrying that I was spending my savings, then ate the whole thing in one go - it was great. After that, I  didn't feel like packing and preparing at all. I went upstairs to my room and smoked a couple of cigarettes lying on my bed and staring at the ceiling, imagining all sorts of cool things that would happen once I got settled down in Montreal.

Before long, I began feeling sleepy; I didn't sleep well the previous night. It was still early, the sun was just beginning to set. But I said to myself what the hell, pulled the curtains shut, took off my clothes, and got into bed.

I was asleep the moment my head touched the pillow.

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"Abriana." Lidya menunjuk kalung berliontin hati dileher Hazel.

Hazel menoleh kearah Zaidan kemudian bertanya. "Zaidan, apa maksud dari semua ini?"

Hazel kesal saat melihat Zaidan mengabaikan pertanyaannya. Dia melepaskan kalung itu tanpa berkedip sama sekali, masih memandangi wajah Zaidan dari samping. Dia penasaran tentang keanehan-keanehan yang terjadi dirumah ini, terutama pembicaraan Lidya dengan putranya, Zaidan. Entah apa yang telah terjadi pada Lidya sebelumnya, perempuan itu terlihat cukup menyedihkan dimata Hazel. Lidya seperti tak menyadari bahwa putranya kini sudah tumbuh dewasa. Dimatanya, Zaidan adalah anak remaja berusia 12 tahun.

Feeling-nya mengatakan bahwa liontin itu memang menyimpan sesuatu didalamnya. Dan benar saja, didalam liontin terdapat foto dua anak kecil berwajah bule. Wajah anak laki-laki itu sekilas terlihat mirip Zaidan, sedangkan gadis kecil disampingnya juga terlihat familiar dimata Hazel. "Apakah dia Abriana?"

Dan sepertinya itu memang foto masa kecil Zaidan bersama saudara perempuannya dulu. Terlihat seperti saudara kembar, karena wajah anak perempuan itu memiliki wajah yang mirip dengan Zaidan. Dan Hazel juga pernah melihat dua anak ini sebelumnya; pertama foto didalam dompet Zaidan dan yang kedua adalah foto keluarga berukuran besar yang menggantung dikamar apartmen Zaidan. "Zaidan …."

Masih tak ada jawaban.

Bukannya menjawab semua pertanyaan Hazel, Zaidan memilih mundur dan bersandar didinding. Memandangi punggung kekasihnya dengan tatapan sayu. Dia tahu bahwa pada akhirnya hari ini akan datang menjemput takdirnya. Jelas dia tahu, semua tentang dirinya takkan bisa disembunyikan begitu saja. Pada awalnya Zaidan mengira masa lalu tak akan lagi mempengaruhi masa depannya. Dan ia benar-benar mengira masa lalu takkan jadi boomerang untuknya dimasa depan.

Lidya bangkit, berjalan kearah nakas dan mengambil satu foto berbingkai kayu. "Kamu Abriana, putriku." Menunjukan bingkai foto Abriana dan Zaidan waktu kecil dulu.

 "Mom, stop please!" pinta Zaidan dengan sangat.

Lidya tersenyum, membelai wajah Zaidan dengan kedua tangannya. Bibirnya menyunggingkan senyum pilu, sedikit meringis saat merasakan perbedaan tinggi tubuhnya dengan sang putra yang jauh tinggi diatasnya. Mungkin dia mulai menyadari bahwa sosok didepannya bukan lagi bocah usia 12 tahun. Dia bukan Zaidan 18 tahun lalu, Zaidan sudah tumbuh dewasa tanpa Lidya sadari. Dia telah melewatkan perkembangan hidup sang putra, meski Zaidan sendiri sudah cukup sering mengunjunginya.

 "Dimana Abriana?" gumam Lidya. Meletakkan telapak tangannya didada kiri Zaidan, membelai dan merasakan degup jantungnya.

Zaidan menoleh kesamping dimana Hazel berada. "Zel, aku ingin berbicara berdua dengan mommy." Secara tak langsung meminta Hazel agar meninggalkannya berdua dengan sang ibu.

"Ah, i-iya," ucap Hazel gugup. Berbalik dan berjalan pelan kearah pintu kamar.

"Mom, lihat kalender itu!" Zaidan menunjuk kalender didinding kamar. "Abriana sudah meninggal 18 tahun lalu," ujar Zaidan. Menyentuh kedua bahu sang ibu dan mengguncangnya.

"Abriana belum mati!"

Plakkk!

Terdengar suara tamparan keras diseisi ruangan. Lidya kehilangan kendali dan menampar keras pipi kanan Zaidan hingga meninggalkan bekas. Tidak hanya menampar, Lidya juga mendorong putranya hingga tersungkur dilantai. Setelah itu ia menangis meraung sambil memukuli punggung Zaidan dengan payung kecil berwarna kuning, payung peninggalan Abriana. "Kau tak hanya membunuh suamiku, kau juga membunuh putriku.!"

DEG!

Zaidan dan Hazel saling bertemu tatap.

Pintu itu belum sepenuhnya tertutup, Hazel baru saja akan menutup pintunya, namun tangannya berhenti seketika saat mendengar Lidya berteriak pada putranya. Zaidan jatuh berlutut memunggungi Lidya dan menghadap pintu kamar dimana disana sepasang mata hitam milik Hazel tengah menatapnya tanpa berkedip.

"Pergi!" Meminta Hazel agar pergi dan menutup pintu kamar.

Jelas Zaidan bukanlah robot, dia juga bisa merasakan sakit yang biasa dirasakan manusia pada umumnya. Terbukti saat Hazel mencubit lengannya, Zaidan akan langsung meringis sambil membalas perbuatan kekasihnya dengan menggeligiti pinggang Hazel. Namun, disisi lain Hazel juga merasakan suatu kejanggalan lain. Hazel teringat akan perkataan nyonya Sarah sebelumnya, bahwa mereka semua belum pernah menjumpai putranya menangis saat remaja sampai sekarang ini. Dia seperti manusia tanpa emosi, tidak menangis saat merasa sedih, sakit, kecewa, dan marah sekalipun.

Kenapa harus ada manusia tanpa ekspresi seperti itu?

Dari awal Hazel sudah curiga kalau cerita The Eternal Love memang benar adanya. Zaidan tidak mengarangnya untuk sebuah lelucon, pria itu membuat versi lain dirinya dalam sebuah cerita. Zaidan memang bukan pangeran, bukan juga jelmaan monster dibalik topeng dan tudung hitamnya. Hazel tahu, Zaidan mendeskripsikan dirinya dalam bentuk karakter yang hampir sama. Tentang seorang pangeran yang kehilangan jati dirinya dan juga rasa percaya dirinya.

Dan beberapa topeng kini sudah dilepasnya. Zaidan sudah menunjukan sisi lain dalam dirinya. Hal pertama yang  ditunjukan adalah ketika Zaidan menyebutkan tentang 'I'm your Hero' tepat dimalam Zaidan menyelamatkan Hazel dari aksi sang penguntit yang terobsesi dengan lagu Gloomy Sunday, satu-satunya lagu dari masa lalu yang tak disukai Hazel. Dan topeng lainnya kembali terlepas tepat setelah Hazel mengetahui kalau Zaidan Abriana bukanlah nama lahir seorang Zaidan, dan Wijaya bukanlah keluarga biologisnya selama ini. Dan sekarang Zaidan membuka topeng terbesar miliknya, tentang kehidupan pribadi yang tak banyak orang ketahui.

Hazel terhanyut dengan lamunannya sendiri, hingga beberapa saat kemudian ia tersadar setelah seseorang menyentuh tangannya. "Hazel?"

"I-iya?" Hazel menoleh kemudian tersenyum.

"Ikut kakek, ada yang harus kakek ceritakan padamu," ujar Tuan Mahendra. Kemudian meminta seorang maid untuk membantunya menuruni tangga.

Perasaan gugup tak bisa dihindarinya, dia berjalan mengiringi laju kursi roda Tuan Mahendra yang didorong salah satu maid dibelakangnya. Hazel menggunakan tangga yang berbeda dengan kakek Mahendra karena tangga yang digunakan Mahendra dibuat khusus untuknya. Dilengkapi dengan kursi roda yang menempel dengan tiang, sabuk pengaman dan beberapa tombol ditangan kursi. Alat itu bisa meluncur dengan alat pengendali ditangan kursi, terlihat tidak asing karena sudah banyak orang yang menggunakannya.

 "Tolong tinggalkan kami berdua." Pinta Mahendra setelah mereka sampai ditaman depan.

Dua maid itu mengangguk cepat dan langsung berbalik badan melaksanakan perintah.

"Zaidan adalah keturunan terakhir dikeluarga kami. Dia lahir dengan nama Zaidan Putra Mahendra, di Kanada, bersamaan dengan saudara perempuannya yang bernama Abriana Putri Mahendra. Dan yang dikamar itu adalah Lidya, menantu kakek, istri dari almarhum anak kakek bernama Adam Mahendra."

 "Abriana adalah orang yang paling dekat dengan Zaidan. Keduanya saling menyayangi selayaknya saudara kembar," tambah Mahendra lagi.

"J-jadi, Zaidan—"

"Dia melihat dua kematian selama hidupnya," potong Mahendra sambil menundukan kepalanya. "Adam meninggal didalam mobilnya sendiri di Kanada, Zaidan adalah satu-satunya saksi yang melihat kematian ayahnya kala itu. Hal yang sama terjadi pada Abriana. Lidya menunjukan kematian untuk putrinya didepan Zaidan dan—"

"Aku?" tanya Hazel. Menunjuk dirinya sendiri.

Mahendra mengangguk. "Kau ada disana saat itu dan kematian Abriana menjadi alasan kenapa Zaidan merasa bertanggung jawab atas dirimu."



~~~@~~~

Toronto, Kanada. 1999.

Sore hari terasa mencekam saat warga digegerkan dengan penemuan mayat pria bernama Adam Mahendra didalam mobilnya sendiri. Bocah laki-laki dengan setelan jas hitam, berwajah pucat, dan bibirnya yang bergetar, turun dari jok belakang dan berpindah menaiki mobil polisi. Bocah laki-laki itu kembali terisak saat ingatan mengerikan itu kembali menghantuinya. Kedua matanya yang sendu terus menatap kepergian ambulance yang membawa jasad ayahnya.

Namanya Zaidan Putra Mahendra, orang-orang biasa memanggilnya Zaidan. Bocah berusia tujuh tahun yang memiliki paras tampan dan bola mata cokelat hazel. Dia terkenal periang, sama seperti saudara kembarnya, Abriana Putri Mahendra. Dan ia tidak sendiri, dua orang polisi menuntunnya pulang untuk memberi kabar kematian pada keluarganya.

 "Where is your father, Zaidan?" tanya Lidya dengan wajah lelah bergelimang air mata.

Zaidan menunduk dengan kedua lutut melemas. "I'm sorry. Da-Daddy … pass away."

"Pembunuh! Dasar monster pembunuh!" teriak Lidya lantang. Bergegas mengambil payung kecil berwarna kuning didalam lemari. Menarik lengan Zaidan dan mendorongnya. Memukul lengan atas sang putra, menjambak, dan menamparnya cukup kejam.

"Zaidan tidak membunuh daddy, Mom," isak Zaidan kesakitan. Menggigil dalam pelukan polisi yang terus mencoba melindunginya dari pukulan Lidya.

Dua polisi dibelakangnya terisak saat mendengar bibir mungil Zaidan berbicara. Kondisinya cukup buruk untuk menjawab pertanyaan dan makian sang ibu, namun Zaidan tetap tak bisa melakukan apa-apa selain menangis dan meminta maaf. Tubuh mungil Zaidan terjatuh dilantai setelah Lidya menarik Zaidan dari rengkuhan polisi dan memukul betisnya dengan payung kecil berwarna kuning. Lidya menghentikan pukulannya setelah polisi merebut payung ditangannya dan menahan tubuh Lidya.

Saat itu polisi langsung membawa Zaidan ke rumah sakit, beserta Lidya yang harus menandatangani persetujuan autopsi pada jasad suaminya, Adam. Zaidan kecil harus menjadi satu-satunya saksi atas kematian ayah kandungnya sendiri. Dia tak bisa mengatakan apapun selain menangis histeris dan pingsan. Dan setelah seorang jaksa memintanya menggambar sosok yang dilihatnya didalam mobil, Zaidan menggambar tato daun ganja dileher sang pelaku.

Sejak kejadian itu, Abriana dan Zaidan tinggal bersama kakeknya dikediaman Mahendra di Bali. Sedangkan sang ibu dirawat dirumah sakit khusus kejiwaan. Lidya drop, kondisinya sangat memprihatinkan setelah kematian Adam. Lidya menderita gangguan mental cukup parah, bahkan dia harus mengalami alzheimer diusia yang terbilang muda. Setiap harinya dia selalu pergi ke bandara untuk menjemput suaminya dari Kanada. Tubuh kurusnya tak pernah lelah menunggu kedatangan Adam dari Toronto, Kanada.

Satu-satunya memori yang tertinggal adalah hari dimana dia akan menjemput suaminya di Bandara, Toronto, dengan penuh suka cita. Sampai waktu dimana Zaidan datang membawa berita kematian, dia melupakan segalanya termasuk fakta dan akal sehat. Dan disetiap malam harinya, dia akan pulang dalam keadaan kacau, menangis, dan berteriak. Berlari kekamar Zaidan dan memukuli putranya tanpa sadar. Meskipun sudah pindah ke Bali, Lidya masih terus melakukan hal yang sama seperti di Toronto, yaitu pergi ke Bandara untuk menjemput Adam Mahendra.

Begitu juga dengan Zaidan. Bertahun-tahun hidupnya selalu dihiasi dengan rasa bersalah dan tangis tak berujung. Disebuah ruangan gelap, dengan gorden yang tak pernah terbuka, Zaidan meringkuk dipojok kamar dengan tatapan datar. Tak ada ekspresi dan emosi diwajahnya. Dia kelelahan, kesakitan, dan putus asa. Bahkan sang kakek sampai harus menggaji dokter kejiwaan atau psikiater untuk cucunya. Hingga setahun berikutnya Zaidan hidup tanpa rasa dan emosi. Tak ada lagi tangis bahkan tawa renyah yang biasa terdengar disetiap harinya. Sekalipun ia sakit, lelah, dan sedih, Zaidan tetap tak bisa menangis.

Hazel Star, perempuan pilihan yang pergi ke masa depan lewat perantara novel fiksi "The Eternal Love". Dia terkejut setelah tiba-tiba bangun disebuat tempat asing dan juga mendapatkan suprise anniversary dari tokoh novel yang dibacanya didunia nyata, Zaidan Abriana.

Hazel juga terkejut setelah tahu bahwa saat itu dia tengah berada ditahun 2022. Tak hanya itu, disana juga Hazel memiliki profesi sebagai presenter berita INDOnews, sekaligus kekasih dari jurnalis yang memiliki julukan "Face Genius" karena ketampanannya, Zaidan Abriana.

"System, show me my stat and rewards" Landon said as he lay on his bed.

>Host name: Landon Barn
>Age: 15
>Status:  King of Baymard
>Level: Beginner (Still Level 1)
>Current Sitaution: Healthy
<Create Warfare Cannons task completed
<Rewards: Knowledge on cement manufacturing, 250 DP and 1000 TP.

>Host also received 120 BP for the creation of glass.
>Originally,  host had 82 DP and 50 BP 

>But since host had previously used 71 DP points for buying space time capsules and concentration pills, your DP dropped down to 11 points.

<Overall Points: 261 DP, 1000 TP and 170 BP

(* Note: DP= development points, TP= technology points and BP= bonus points)


He looked at his mission status again and thought about how he should proceed in the future.

[
Mission: Build cement block houses for all Permanent residents in Baymard.

Sub-Mission: Since host has received 20 Godly food recipes and 5 spice making recipes, host needs to create new pallets and spices for your people.

Rewards: 

•Full knowledge on the human Anatomy and beginner to intermediate knowledg in the medical field. So what if you can build a lot of warfare weapons? Host doesn't even have a single healer in your town.. Shame on you!.... 

•Host will also be given 5 random medical techniques for treating patients.

•Lastly, host will also receive 350 development points (DP) and 2000 Technology points (TP).

Deadline: no specific time required
]


Landon sighed as he looked at his rewards towards his next mission. Where were was the outlay or mechanisms on guns?...

Honestly speaking, Landon majored in electrical engineering, and also did alot of hardware engineering as well.. he only knew how to develop and design electrical appliances.

It was unrealistic to think that just because he had come into a fantasy world, he would suddenly become a sage... bruh... 

Yes, he was smart... but he only focused on electrical and hardware engineering. The rest of his time was focused on anime, manga and light novels..

Although he had done military service for his country, that didn't mean that he would know how to create guns..... He could quickly assemble some of them, but that was it. 

Each weapon had it's own mechanism and important materials that needed to be used in order to successfully create them. 

If it was anything involving phones, laptops, TV sets.... that,..he could do... But to Suddenly tell him to create paper... (sigh) isn't that too much? 

Who could honestly say that if they were put in his situation, they would know more than he did? 

If a person knew everything, that meant that he/she would have had to study all engineering types, gone to law school, while being a doctor part-time and maybe even ran his/her own company as a boss. As well as teach on the weekends.....

There are more than 200 industries on earth. If someone claimed to know everything, they were simply scammers.

Also, there was no electricity in this era, so even if he made a printer or photocopier, where would he plug it? And even if he needed a battery wouldn't he need time to create it?


Landon also realised another major problem that he was facing.

Although the system had given him knowledge on cement making, it hadn't given him knowledge on house designing and construction.

Landon wanted to build houses in a way that would take the future into account. 

Soon he would put water pipes throughout the City, as well as other daily commodities. He had no idea where and how to place the pipes. All he knew about was how to place the cables and wires for electricity. Ge didn't even know how thick the various pipes should be.

Landon had decided that every house would have 2 floors: the ground floor and the top floor.

Each house would have a kitchen, 2 bathrooms, a parlor and 4 bedrooms at the top floor. It would also have a front and back yard, as well as a mailbox and a garage.

Oh yes...he was planning way ahead for when he would finally make cars. He also wanted to make the houses accessible to street roads, railways and bus stops.

All this depended on how the houses were built and positioned in the city.


He had noticed that all the houses were focused around the town square in the central region. There were almost no houses close to the upper regions or lower regions. 

In future, all the schools would be located in the upper region, as well supermarkets, luxury hotels, malls and so on.

Landon knew that most people would eventually want to live close to the upper region. 

Hence  he decided to start building the houses in the part of central region, that was closest to the upper region.


Once the first houses were completed, he would start moving the citizens in to them in an orderly fashion. 

Landon had a grand plan for Baymard. He decided to divide the upper region into 4 sections.

District A, would obviously host himself, the knights and the barracks.

District B, would host Fighter plane airforces and other airborne military weapons.

District C would host justice courts, the main public police offices, the Education Bureau, Government Policy Offices, all schools, banks and so on..

District D would have, Luxury hotels, amusement parks, car stores, banks and so on...basically good entertainment.


Landon also decided to break the Central parts into 4 parts.

District E, would be the closest to the upper region housing all of the 1500 original citizens who had always stayed here.

District F, would follow after District E. It would host all the Regfugees and Slaves.

District G, would have all the regular hotels for visitors, as well as beautiful national parks, some banks, bars and so on... 

District H would be closer to the entrance/exit having other police stations and offices that determine whether or not someone could go into the city. It also had offices that issues ID cards, other important outposts and so on..


As for the lower region, it would also be divided into 4 parts...but it would still be completely filled with factories, be it toothpaste, soap, whatever Baymard needed.. Only those that worked there or had a tour pass, could enter the region.

The coastal part would also have 4 parts. All in all, there would be a large dock for visiting ships, another area that would focus on military submarines, as well as military ships..

The possibilities were endless.


For now, Landon just had to focus on building cement houses.


The point to note was that, although there were 1500 people present in Baymard, there were only about 1000 houses here. People lived together as married couples, they had children and maybe even lived with their grandparents or parents..

With 3,000 more people coming in, he could easily build the houses for 4,500 people fast.

Once he succeeded in providing housing for everyone, he would then start building high story buildings that would house future families and slaves who come into Baymard.

These houses would come have massive car parks and other amenities. Of course, those that come later would have to pay rent for those places.

For refugees and slaves who come in the future, he would give them a 4 months headstart before he started collecting the rents. He hoped that before the time was up, they would have already gotten jobs around Baymard. 

The rents for these houses would be fairly cheap depending on the dust that they're built in.

Each District in the central region would have sky high buildings to rent, as well as normal villa houses for those who have made enough money to live lavishly.

Also, all districts, be it the upper or lower regions, would have at least 1 police station and 2 gas stations.

Landon thought about Baymard and sighed. The population was really too small for the land mass.

Take Toronto Canada for example. That city alone had 95,000 privately owned housing units, over 100 hotels, several schools, about 80 malls, several airports and other buildings... 

Yet Toronto was smaller in land mass compared to Baymard..... Was this some type of joke?

Driving from one part of Toronto to the other could take up to 10-30 minutes without traffic, so one could only imagine how huge Baymard really was.


The more Landon thought about the future, the more Landon realized how much knowledge he lacked and how he little the population of Baymard was.

But he wasn't really in a rush... Building his dream world, would take a lot of time and a lot of effort.

For now, he could buy knowledge on whatever he needed from the system.

"System, can I buy knowledge on house designing and house construction? As well as  all knowledge involving handgun mechanisms, paper making and water supply for buildings."

"You can host. For the guns, would you like knowledge on the Single-Action revolver, Double-Action revolver or Semi-automatic Pistols?", the system asked.

"The Semi-automatic pistol would do".

"Host's first request will cost you either: 120 DP, 300 Technology Points points or 100 Bonus Points

The second request will cost host either: 100 DP, 250 TP or 80 BP

The third request will cost either: 80 DP, 100 TP or 20 BP.

And finally the fourth request will cost either: 130 DP, 380 TP or  110 BP" the system asked.


"Take out 120 BP points for the first request, 100 DP for the second request, 20 DP for the third request, and 130 DP for the final request... Also, show we my balance points again".

"Host's Overall Points: 11 DP, 1000 TP and 50 BP"... Does host want to receive these information now?"

"Yes"

As Landon laid on his bed receiving the long string of information that he had just bought, he couldn't help but feel that, tomorrow would be a very hectic day.

Author here; Please make sure to check out my other book!
Thank you all for tuning in..... English is my second language... so I promise to try my best.
Again, the first few chapters may seem slow, but trust me, everything will fall into place. there's a reason for everything.
Discord: https://discord.gg/5Fk75rXXRj

Oh... and be sure to check out my other books;
•In A Cultivation World With An Entertainment Park... &
•Host, Please Be Honest! What Exactly Are You?

Well, now back to the synopsis....
Er-erhmm. 
...............
.
Chu Yi dies in a car crash and becomes Landon Barn, the illegitimate son of king Barn, ruler of Arcadina. Because his mother was a maid and the king’s greatest disgrace, his father had always despised him. The same could be said for his half-siblings. 

When he turned 15, his father had announced that the city of Baymard would be given to him, and would no longer be under the empire's control. It was a well known fact that Baymard’s lands were barren, and poverty stricken.... For god’s sake, this was banishment.

His deadbeat father had indirectly banished him from the empire.

Chu Yi woke up in a carriage, on his way to Baymard with a system

"So what if my father hates me? So what if I’m banished?.... I will turn my territory into a modern society"

.


Author-san: the book is a bit fast paced. But it be really be worth it. so just give it a try and you might be surprised.

In the midst of all the hustle and bustle, the buzz of awards season is always the most talked about, easily taking the front page headlines and stealing the spotlight.
 
This year's awards season is indeed lively, "The Social Network" and "The King's Speech" two works, the call all the way up, far ahead, "The King's Speech" to take the lead. The "King's Speech" was the first to make an impact, returning from Venice and Toronto with accolades, and was highly praised by critics; then "The Social Network" began to overtake, new, unique, sharp, young, energetic and wise, this work won the fervent admiration of almost all North American critics, and began to overtake the former, becoming the biggest leader of the current awards season.
 
It's really exciting to see where things will go next.
 
Just when all media outlets were focusing on Leonardo and Blake's romance, Natalie Portman's negative news sparked a new wave of discussion in North America.
 
Sarah Lane, a famous professional ballerina, has publicly expressed her condemnation of Natalie.
 
At the Toronto Film Festival, Natalie said in an interview with Entertainment Weekly that she did use a body double during the filming of "Black Swan," but that she did 85 percent of the scenes by herself, and even talked about how she grasped the beauty of dance in the film and how hard she worked to accomplish it. The film's beauty, and how hard to complete the dance moves and so on.
 
At that time, this news caused an uproar and sparked a lot of discussion.
 
Now, Sarah has come forward to say that this is completely hypocritical, she is a professional dancer in "Black Swan", only five percent of the film's dance is done by Natalie, the rest is the post-production of the film to Natalie's face into her body to make out.
 
Sarah felt incomparable indignation for the fact that all of her credit was erased.
 
Originally, "Black Swan" is the biggest favorite for Best Actress in this year's awards season, and the posthumous call for a posthumous award came all the way down from Venice, and if she can win the Oscar, she will become the first actress of "Generation Y" to win a small gold medal, which is also an important reason why the media has always been so keen on the topic of the rise of "Generation Y" - they have finally shown the rising momentum of power grabbing, which also means that the legacy of Hollywood can finally continue.
 
However, after this negative news came out, it immediately caused a sensation, everyone was buzzing about it, and Natalie's awards season prospects were overshadowed.
 
In the face of such a situation, the crew's head ballet director Benjamin Millepied first came to the defense, arguing that it was a false smear, "They were just responsible for some technical scenes, which did not affect Natalie's excellence in any way, which is really believable, which is also really wonderful." He then insisted that Natalie's performance did take up about eighty-five percent of the scenes, and that it was impossible to deceive the audience's eyes.
 
But after the Toronto Film Festival, "Entertainment Weekly" broke the news that Benjamin was dating Natalie. Now there is such negative news, Benjamin's persuasiveness is questionable.
 
What's worse, the industry gossip is always circulating, Natalie in Toronto deliberately concealed the romance with Benjamin, and even went so far as to fabricate a rumor with another new actor to divert attention, this action seems to be further proof of the truth of Sarah's words, people have to start speculating, is Sarah's words the truth?
 
The fire of gossip has begun to burn, the previous "scandal" in Toronto only attracted a small amount of attention, people investigated and found that the scandal did not cause a sensation, the reason is very simple, because the scandal object demolished the mirror, confirmed that all the scandal is just a woo-woo, and it was the reporter's imagination.
 
Things are getting interesting.
 
However, the news has not yet had time to confirm, only a supermarket tabloid "World News Weekly" reported with conviction, but everyone knows that supermarket gossip tabloids can not be trusted, they also swear to aliens, the Loch Ness Monster and other news released so-called "scientific evidence".
 
Compared with TMZ magazine, supermarket tabloids are famous for their absurdity and outlandishness, and most of the news they report is unconfirmed, and the more bizarre they are, the more eye-catching they are. These newspapers often have no credibility, but are just placed in the supermarket to share for free, housewives to use to wrap things or pad the vegetable basket, and glance at it when bored.
 
The reporters and paparazzi had their hands full, they hadn't found enough evidence to confirm, the "Black Swan" cast members and distribution company Fox Searchlight have come out in solidarity with Natalie, that Sarah is just trying to hype, her accusations are ridiculous and laughable.
 
All this support has pushed the farce to a whole new high/climax, making people look forward to the further development of the story with great interest.
 
However, so far, Natalie has not come forward to respond positively for the time being, and the next curve of things remains less clear, which makes the battle for the award season more and more complicated.
 
At this point, the Golden Globes announced the nominations.
 
The Golden Globe Awards, held and presented by the Hollywood Foreign Press Association, is known as the most topical, interesting and entertaining comprehensive awards ceremony in Hollywood, covering both the television and film sectors. Purely on the authority, television than the Emmy Awards, film than the Oscars, but the Golden Globes attention has always been high, even more lively than the Grammy Awards or Emmy Awards.
 
The reason is simple, although the Golden Globes is known as one of the four Oscar weathervanes, the Hollywood Foreign Press Association familiarity and intimacy with the Academy judges, to help them can always make accurate predictions about the trend of the Oscars; but in the final analysis, the Golden Globes is not the pursuit of artistic excellence or professional profundity, entertainment is always its most important pursuit.
 
Every year the Golden Globes are the biggest Hollywood fame and fortune, the guest list is even more luxurious than the Oscars, the leading stars of commercial blockbusters, the leading actors and actresses of popular dramas, the popcorn fest, the collective attendance, simply on the degree of attention, the Golden Globes is definitely not inferior to the Oscars.
 
In the entertainment first, entertainment to death in Hollywood, the Golden Globes is definitely an important event that can not be ignored.
 
The Golden Globes have come to their 68th edition, and under the spotlight, the Hollywood Foreign Press Association announced the nomination list, and as always, the Golden Globes have once again brought their entertainment properties to the forefront.
 
Five works, including "The Social Network", "The King's Speech", "Black Swan", "The Fighter" and "Inception," were shortlisted for the Best Picture in the Drama category.
 
In addition to the highly anticipated "The Social Network" and "The King's Speech", "Black Swan" was not affected by the negative press and made the cut. This is definitely a shot in the arm for Fox Searchlight, while "Inception", which wowed countless people this summer and did well at the box office, successfully appeared in the top five list and won a round of applause.
 
In the Best Picture section of the Musical Comedy category, "The Kids Are All Right", "Red", "Burlesque", "Alice in Wonderland" and "The Tourist" are somewhat playful.
 
Among them, "The Kids Are All Right" can be said to be the strong leader all the way through the awards season, and the call for the Oscar nomination for Best Picture is also high, so it can be said that it is a clear winner, but among the remaining four nominees, "Alice in Wonderland" and "Red" are not good, while the remaining two works are even worse, but because of the strong starring cast and harvest the Golden Globe nominations.
 
This is the Golden Globes, independent films want to kill a way, it is difficult to get to the top; on the contrary, the commercial value of the work, just rely on the topic of the starring cast can enter the line of sight.
 
Some have criticized this, but no one can deny that this choice has brought attention to the Golden Globes.
 
Outside of the Best Picture division, the Actor division is undoubtedly the most compelling, with the spotlight constantly on it.
 
For example, this year, the best actor in a musical comedy category, Johnny Depp with "Alice in Wonderland" and "The Tourist" won two nominations, many people speculate that Johnny again this year to copy the unprecedented "Pirates of the Caribbean" year among the Oscar nominations of the feat?
 
For example, "The Kids Are All Right" double heroine Annette Bening and Julianne Moore hand in hand in the musical comedy category for the best actress competition, for this harvest of numerous praise for the fictional work to add brick, it seems to enter the Oscars It's not an empty talk.
 
However, the biggest topic of conversation in the acting department is undoubtedly "Generation Y"! This year has truly been a strong year for this generation of actors.
 
Natalie Portman overcame the negative press and was a finalist in the drama category with Michelle Williams, as well as the newcomer Jennifer Lawrence with "Winter's Bone", who made her way from Sundance to the end of the year awards season competition.
 
Anne Hathaway and Emma Stone both won Best Actress in a Musical nominations, joining forces with three other actors of the same generation to take up half of the nominations.
 
As for the male actors, Jake Gyllenhaal was nominated in the Musical Comedy category for "Love & Other Drugs", returning to the public eye after five years following "Brokeback Mountain".
 
The Best Actor in a Drama category also showed the "Generation Y" world, with young people taking four of the five nominations, teaming up to defeat Colin Firth, who won the nomination for "The King's Speech", which is an unprecedented feat!
 
The four young people are Jesse Eisenberg for "The Social Network," Ryan Gosling for "Blue Valentine," James Franco for "127 Hours," and ... "Buried" Renly Hall.

After getting the final relief from his past sufferings, Chu Jiashu was given a second chance when he found himself in the body of an infant from an aristocratic family of Hall. Now, nothing is going to stop him from achieving his long-cherished dream of acting. Enter Renly Hall, a Hollywood miracle of 21st century.


Note from the translator - from me, that is.
   
"Honestly, I get frustrated too much when I look at countless subpar novels being translated day after day. So much human resources wasted. I kinda get what Qidian International is doing, but it is just, I can't bear the notion of having so many wonderful novels that belong to the Chinese platform to be left in the dust. English-speaking community should know of the existence of such brilliant works, and more so, they should enjoy them. The novel is by a Chinese dude "Qiqi Jia D Mao Mao", whatever that might mean, who wrote several showbiz novels (he is probably the best at what he is doing). It is not my work, I'm just a dude who, with the help of two free machine translators (DeepL and good ol' Google), can show you a hidden gem. Wait, you said machine translators? Sadly, yes. I can't speak Chinese at all, but fortunately, this novel is structured in a machine-translation-friendly way, like really so. Most of the time context is saved. I'm just polishing the edges with my superb (not really) editing skills, so you all chaps have a splendid experience with this good staff indeed. Actually, you can go and read machine translation or just wait for my updates. Up to you dudes and dudies. And then I go away...blewb, blewb, blewb, blewb, blewb....."

P.S.
"I am a knife for a hire. So the managers of the site can employ me for this novel, but please don't remove it. Oh, please, I'm begging you on my knees. You guys won't even think of translating this novel, and here I am "translating" it for free,.... well for the time being, that is mwahahaha!"

P.S. for P.S.
This novel does not contain the following:
Harem, definitely not NTR, stupid characters, NTR again (God, I hate NTR (secretly beating the meat for a one in hentai))

But this novel contains:
Great storyline, relatable characters, realistic situations, very fun moments as well as tear jerking ones (so much so, you will find your throat hella sore from crying all the time), surprise after surprise for the decisions that author went with.

You will have a good time indeed
WARNING! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!

It's time for summer in our country before grade 8 of my high school life I'd go to a adventure to find look the sword of of heaven and earth using the teleportation in the power chamber I'd go to Europe where I can find the Excalibur that I found there and take it I'd call alpha 5 and to teleport me back before that I found 3 other sword and take it with me and its time for zordon to go back home in eltar with the help of lit ore the wizard save by tommy from divatox alpha 5 and zordon go home and the replacement for them has come alpha 6 and dimitria.

                            Now for the next destination I'd go to North America in Toronto to find 5 more sword and I'd go to the Philippines to rest on my own adventure I'd forgot to tell I'd invented an A.I or artificial intelligence and a company because I'd win millions of pesos that's why I build my own company in our own house make it bigger and I'd call it Scott co.
           
                          New week  for new adventure I'd go to USA Los Angeles I'd found 3 swords and there's trouble monster attack I'd morph and fight and take the 3 sword and travel again this to Washington without any notice to my uncle and grandma found 5 more sword if you  ask me where I'd put or hide all the sword I'd found I have a secret I'd create secret dimension pocket in my hands both of my hands where I can put all of the sword sits unlimited slot.

                         I'd found more swords in USA 20 of it that's why I ask alpha 6  to bring me back to Tanza  to rest and next week new destination now a new destination now a new week before I'd ask alpha 6my father ask me stop for now because we have vacation in tagaytay idint go to my adventure from no.

                            Now I'd go to South America I'd go to buenos Aires I'd found more 20 swords  there's a monster attack I'd morph and fight them I'd ask alpha 6 to bring me back to Tanza now and rest to our family house  I don't know that divatox already know the location of power chamber. 

                             Tomorrow morning alpha 6 calls me because zordon has been captured and dimitria will go to help him I said to dimitria that I can help she said the Rangers need more help in here she can handle it and when I was in power chamber there is an red alert our base is under attack divatox come and with her minions we cannot call the others me and turbo Rangers fight divatox and her minions but they have a bomb oh I forgot we'd morph to protect our base but we failed because Elgar destroyed the tube where zordon and dimitria will be there to live and divatox switch on the trigger and the bomb explode. 

End of chapter 3

The Roamer

Chapter 35: Toronto's anger

"So, you're the brat who Sasha decided to spare huh? Yet, look at what happened as a result. She's on the ground, slowly dying…" Toronto said, despair clear in his voice. Aeolus realized that he had just pissed off someone he shouldn't have, and took a big gulp.

"For Sasha, I'll take you down." Toronto said, and appeared right in front of Aeolus. At first, Aeolus was confused as to how he did such an act, but he realized this was all the affinity of time.

'He's speeding himself up using time!' Aeolus realized, sweat dripping down from his body. This guy was on a whole other level from the commander of Antegria, who only took a few undead to kill. 

"Doing this also speeds up time for me, and I'm aging at double the pace now, so let's get this over with." Toronto said, with killing intent deep in his eyes, making it look as if he was born with such a dead face. Aeolus simply protected himself as much as possible, however, Toronto was way too fast.

He was easily getting through Aeolus and his defenses, as if they were nothing but flies. Meanwhile, the rest of the army was passing by them, beginning to capture the citizens. However, the next sight completely angered Aeolus.

"Please, don't kill my so-!" were the words of many people. They weren't just capturing the people, they held them down for a few seconds and then killed them off.

"They're all labeled as traitors you see, so they all need to die." Toronto said calmly, not caring at all. Besides, in the end, they were just slaves to aid the royal army. 

"God damn it…" Aeolus said, clearly not working with the same mindset as Toronto. Just what did these people do to deserve such a thing? He gritted his teeth, and began to move even faster. He was beginning to catch up with Toronto's speed, which surprised the commander greatly.

'This… he's evolving through combat?' Toronto thought to himself, but it was simply an entertaining thought to himself. Even if he was evolving through combat, he wouldn't be able to save all the citizens.

One way or another, he would experience misery. 

However, Aeolus clearly didn't agree to this. 

"SCREW OFF!" Aeolus roared, and pierced Toronto with some string, right in the lungs. Aeolus immediately lost one of his fingers after that, and it was on his physical arm. However, Aeolus considered this trade worth it. 

"Damned brat!" Toronto yelled, and began attacking once again. However, Aeolus immediately booked it, since he had the chance. He was running towards the innocent slaves, no, people. He began sending his string out in all directions, and using his undead to the best of his abilities. 

'They can't die, They can't die, They can't die…' was on repeat in Aeolus' head, as if it was a broken cassette tape. However, it was his honest thoughts, he really did want to save them. However, Toronto wouldn't let him.

*KSHH*

Aeolus felt an immense pain somewhere down there, and began screaming wildly, as if he was a boar on the verge of execution. After screaming for a second, he immediately looked down. In the place of his stomach, there seemed to be a fist holding something that came out of his body. 

He then took a kick from the back, and went flying into one of the walls of this cavern. He was buried in rubble, and barely had any space to breath. He was slowly bleeding out, and his end seemed to be closing in.

"S-S-Shit, stand up…" he tried to will himself, but it wasn't working. If anything, it just served to help him spit out more blood. He slowly lifted the rubble off himself, but there was somebody standing in front of him helping him.

'Ah, one of my undead…' Aeolus thought to himself, pleased that he had such a loyal army. However, it was the exact opposite of an ally lifting up the rubble.

"Stand up, damned bug. You'll know the pain I experienced when I lost Sasha!" Toronto yelled, and lifted Aeolus out of the rubble, who couldn't do anything back. He simply closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep, permanently. However, Toronto wouldn't allow such a thing. 

*TSS*

He immediately slapped Aeolus' face, which woke him up. Aeolus stared into the face of Toronto, and could've swore he was staring at a demonic general. His eyes were fully black, no pupil or whites. He was leaking blood from his mouth, and many other places. 
In fact, Aeolus could've swore that he was also in a pitiful situation.

'Just how did he get so injured…' Aeolus thought to himself, but understood when he looked behind Toronto. Behind him, there were many undead bodies, all of them slowly being absorbed by him.

"I see, it seems my soldiers didn't want you getting near me…" Aeolus said silently, but Toronto still heard him. He simply made an even worse expression, while Aeolus giggled a little. However, it seemed as if hope wasn't fully lost. 

*SPLAT*


Toronto's left arm was cut off, and hit the ground. Toronto began reversing time while turning around, to get his arm back and confront the opponent. However, the opponent simply pinned Toronto's arm to the ground, and sent string in from behind Toronto to pierce him.

It came out with what Aeolus could've swore was an organ, and he was proud of this undead soldier that he had raised.

For it was Kline, fighting on Aeolus' side. 

--- sequence 2 --- 

"A damned undead dares to try and stop me?" Toronto said, while throwing his fist out towards Kline. However, Kline simply stopped it with string that was already there, and kicked Toronto in the balls, or what seemed to be the balls. However, Kline didn't feel anything jiggly when he kicked there, so he simply stopped attacking there.

"In battle, a man has to learn how to cover their private spots." Toronto said with an obnoxious tone, as if it was one of the most basic things in the world. However, Kline wasn't acknowledging a single thing coming out of Toronto's mouth, and simply attacked. 

'This damned human dares to insult my master to such a degree…' Kline was thinking to itself, disappointed by how weak it was. Just the fact that his master was about to die while he was still alive and kicking was already angering Kline to death. 

"To think you've raised such a dedicated undead…" Toronto said calmly, while observing Kline's every movement. After a bit, he dropped Aeolus on the ground, and took off his shirt. Aeolus could've swore that there was some powerful aura surrounding his body.

"I won't go easy on you, you're the last defense protecting your little master." Toronto said with no emotions in his voice, while his body kept increasing in size. After a while, his body stopped growing. However, he was still humongous. Kline barely even reached his waist. 

"Come at me, damned ant." Toronto said, while taunting at Kline. Kline got pissed off, and rushed at him. He pierced Toronto with string, but Toronto was simply smiling. It was as if this was just a vaccine he was taking, and nothing serious at all. 

"You can't compete with me anymore, and I don't blame you. Even if all the commanders ganged up on me, they would barely beat me." Toronto mentioned in a sly voice, while Aeolus was slowly losing consciousness and life. Kline realized that it had to hurry up, or things would end up badly for itself and its master. 

It began rushing at Toronto once again, who simply smiled once again. Toronto reached his arm outwards, to grab Kline. However, the next move Kline pulled off surprised everyone, including his master, Aeolus. 

He jumped into the air, and landed behind Toronto. Toronto thought that it was just a trick to try and backstab him, and turned around. However, his last arm was cut off from behind, and fell to the ground. String was coming in from every direction, and Aeolus realized this move heavily.

'Kline learnt it… Kline learnt my ultimate move!' Aeolus got heavily excited, as it seemed like his undead was evolving through this battle as well. However, the string didn't pierce Toronto, who was guarding himself. Instead, Kline used it for something Aeolus had never thought about before.

It pierced through the ground, and came back out carrying rocks. The rocks were wrapped in string, and were sent flying at Toronto. Toronto took one straight to the forehead, and the pain was unimaginable. Kline used this moment to throw his master over his shoulder, and ran out of the cavern using the entrance at the shore of Pangaea.

"You're not getting away so easily!" Some man screamed at Kline, while jumping down onto him. However, Kline simply avoided it, and kept flying. It was planning on crossing the ocean, and escaping with its master. It gave up on the idea of saving the slaves completely, as they had absolutely no choice.

'Master and I barely handled one, we can not take on anymore...' was the thought rushing through Kline's head, unwilling to let Aeolus die. However, the man who jumped down on them before clearly wasn't about to let them escape so easily. He began chasing after them, and Kline thought he could handle it pretty easily. 

However, huge waves rose up, and were coming towards them. 

"This is where the affinity of water really shines!" The unknown man yelled, cheering happily. However, it wasn't such a happy moment for Kline and Aeolus. The waves were getting bigger and bigger, until at least five of them were big enough to flood a whole city. 

'... damn it.' Kline thought to himself, and resolved himself to the end. However, it seemed as if they had more backup. 

One of the more famous undead of Aeolus came out, the illusionist. It began radiating its thoughts towards Kline.

'Kline, I'll use an illusion to make it seem as if we all got drowned by the tsunami's, and you take to the skies with master.' the illusionist explained, and Kline immediately accepted. He took to the skies, while the illusionist made it seem as if they had been drowned. 

After flying for half an hour, the illusionist came flying back towards them. The illusionist was previously a pretty lady, her hair fluttering with the wind she was soaring through. 

'How's the condition of master?' the illusionist asked, clearly concerned. Even if she didn't care about Aeolus, him dying also meant that all the undead soldiers would go back to the abyss of death, so she had to watch out for him no matter what.

"He's… getting better slowly through the soul infusion technique." Kline said, with a bit of pessimism in his voice. In reality, he wasn't that confident. He didn't think that the soul infusion could help Aeolus much in such a situation. Of course it couldn't, Toronto took out a lot of his intestines.

"No… master will make it." Kline said calmly, and kept flying. He could feel the vigor of the soul infusion technique, which felt much stronger than before. He kept soaring, towards the beginning. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ABOUT ME
Name: Abdul Kareem
Age: 13 (Almost 14)
Occupation: Middle school
Goal: Idk, I'm just making a novel for now
Location: Why would I say that?
Relations: I'm not married (duh)
Favorite food: da asian stuf! 

Anyway, on a more serious tone, this is my first novel I've ever tried writing. Thanks for being with me on this first experience! If you could also somehow get others to read this novel too, I would be pretty grateful! :D

A peaceful, weak little village with no issues stands separated and undiscovered from the rest of the world, the villagers living their lives fulfilled. That is, until the outer world finally catches on to them, and all the inhabitants are forced to be slaves. Aeollus, a child who also originates from the village, expects to live the rest of his life in slavery. However, things don't end up as simple as that. 

Later on, he experiences a battle of high standards, and is inspired by it.

Through some future events, he ends up breaking out of slavery. He proceeds to roam the world in search of strength, and to thoroughly understand and gain it. He will face many challenges while roaming the world, and the majority of them will need him to surpass his limits. Will he truly be able to set a new legend in this world, or will he fall like the majority and become a forgotten person?

After walking out, because his home was in the outskirts of the town and was close to the wilderness, Jobs quickly found a lush grassland.
Because it had just rained, many insects could feel the fresh air and came out, clinging to the grass to drink the water droplets.
Walking into the grass, he crouched down and quickly saw a ladybug clinging to a blade of grass.
Without any hesitation, Jobs reached out with his hand and knocked the ladybug off the grass. Then, he stepped on it.
[You have killed a ladybug and received 0.1 Monster Points!]
He had indeed obtained monster points.
Jobs looked at the system page, the remaining monster points he had was displayed as 0.1.
It was just that he had only obtained 0.1 monster points after killing a ladybug, and this was slightly less than he had imagined. Perhaps it was because insects were not a threat to humans and were only low-level creatures.
If he could hunt high-level creatures in the future, he would definitely obtain more monster points.
After considering that, Jobs continued searching for creatures in the grass to kill. Soon, he found another ladybug clinging onto a blade of grass. This time, however, just as he was about to reach out to kill the ladybug, a system prompt suddenly rang out in his ear.
[Ding, the host has successfully discovered a ladybug. Rearing a ladybug requires 1 monster point. Do you want to rear it?]
This time, after owning 0.1 monster points, when he wanted to touch the ladybug, a notification popped up.
Although he wanted to say yes and rear the ladybug, he did not have enough monster points. Secondly, the ladybug was not the first choice that Jobs wanted to evolve as a monster.
Thus, after considering it, Jobs decided to kill it.
[You have killed a ladybug and obtained 0.1 Monster Points!]
Next, Jobs began searching through the grass. As long as he found a creature, he would immediately kill it.
During the process, Jobs confirmed his previous conjecture. Killing an ant would give him 0.1 monster points, while killing an earthworm would give him 0.3 monster points.
Monster points were determined by the life force of the creature.
After knowing that, Jobs placed his focus on the loose soil and killed the earthworms hiding within it.
After more than 20 minutes of work, Jobs finally gathered 5 monster points. 
After that, he killed another 20 insects and found that there were no conspicuous creatures left in the grass.
With a total accumulation of 7 monster points, Jobs got up and walked toward the ground not far away.
On the ground, a weakened wasp that was on the verge of death was using its last bit of strength to resist the ants around it which were trying to carry it away as food.
There were about seven or eight ants in total. After realizing that the wasp was retaliating, they attacked ferociously. At this rate, it was only a matter of time before the wasp was killed by these ants.
He had noticed the Wasp earlier and deliberately left it alone, as with the ants attacking it.
The reason for this was because Jobs wanted to do an experiment.
[Ding, rearing a wasp costs 5 Monster Points. Do you want to rear it?]
"Yes." This time, Jobs did not hesitate to press the confirmation button.
As soon as the 5 monster points were invested at once, the wasp, which had been attacked by the ants, suddenly seemed to have regained its vitality. It immediately flapped its wings and sent the two ants crawling on it flying.
Then, the wasp straightened its body, flapped its wings, and flew directly in front of an ant that was sent flying. The black stinger slashed across, and the ant was directly cut into pieces by the sharp stinger.
After dealing with one ant, the Wasp adjusted its position and used the same method to fly closer and cut another ant into pieces.
Right after that, the wasp showed its ferocity and mercilessly killed all the ants in front of it!
"I just enslaved it, but this wasp has already grown so much!"
Seeing this scene, Jobs' eyes lit up. He deliberately left the ants here to eat the wasp. He wanted to test the strength of a pet that he had invested monster points into.
The truth was right in front of him. After the enslavement, the dying wasp immediately seemed to have regained its life and became abnormally ferocious. Even its main attacking method, the stinger, was enhanced.
Normally, the stinger of a wasp was used to attack large creatures. After the stinger was inserted into the enemy's flesh and injected with poison, the stinger would be pulled out along with the wasp's heart. It was a cruel suicidal attack that cost the user's life.
The wasp's stinger, after enhancement, was able to cut through the ant's body directly, its sharpness was obvious at a glance. At the same time, it also meant that the wasp had an additional cutting method. It no longer had to face a situation where it would die if it attacked a large target.
From the looks of it, the enhancement effect was quite absurd. The wasp in front of him had already left the category of insects and become a high-level creature.
However, the strengthened wasp was unusually ferocious. Would it be hard to control?
Just as he was thinking about this question…
After killing all the ants, the wasp turned around and flew toward Jobs. However, it had no desire to attack Jobs' finger. Instead, it rubbed against his finger affectionately.
It seemed very obedient.
Jobs' heart stirred as he tried to give an order. The wasp at his fingertips obeyed his instruction in an instant, circling the air in a given pattern.
"I don't need to say the order I gave out. I just need to have a thought in my mind and the wasp can sense it."
After issuing a few commands to verify it, Jobs confirmed this idea.
This was a pretty good ability. In the future, any plans could be carried out in secret without worrying about exposing secrets.
"As my first pet, your name will be Little Yellow from now on," Jobs looked at Little Yellow which was flying in the sky and spoke. 
Although he could not sense the thought of the enslaved insect, Little Yellow was constantly spinning around him excitedly. It liked the name.
"When Little Yellow was killing the ants just now, I seemed to have received the notification of obtaining monster points."
Jobs opened the system interface and saw 0.8 monster points listed. These were the monster points that Little Yellow had obtained from killing the ants.
The system notification also stated that any pets the host enslaved would allow him to gain monster points when they killed enemies. That was good news.
[Name: Little Yellow]
[Race: Wasp]
[Level: 1]
[Ability: Strengthened Stinger]
[Owner: Jobs]
[20 Monster Points can be used for one enhancement!]
...
Looking at Little Yellow's attribute panel, Jobs ordered, "Now, go to the meadow on the left and kill all the creatures you can find. If there are any creatures you can't kill, tell me."
After hearing the order, Little Yellow bobbed its body up and down in the air before flying straight into the grass at the side.
Jobs also walked towards another bush.
He had just enslaved a wasp, so his demand for monster points was far from enough.
Then, Jobs and Little Yellow started hunting the creatures they saw.
Although he told Little Yellow to inform him when it encountered creatures that it could not kill, how could Little Yellow, which had evolved once, not be able to defeat those ordinary creatures in the grass?
The entire process lasted for four hours, under the joint effort of Little Yellow and Jobs, he had finally accumulated 300 monster points!
This was not a small number.
Immediately, Jobs ordered Little Yellow to come to him.
[Would the host like to use 20 Monster Points to enhance the pet, Wasp?]
"Yes." Jobs answered as he hit the confirmation button.
[Ding! Level 2 enhancement successful. The Wasp's stinger has become sharper.]
[Would the host like to use 40 Monster Points to enhance the pet, Wasp, again?]
Jobs hit the confirmation button again.
[Ding! Level 3 enhancement successful. The Wasp's speed has increased by 100%.]
...
[Would the host like to use 80 Monster Points…]
[Ding! Level 4 enhancement successful. The toxicity of the stinger has increased by 100%!]
...
[Would the host like to use 160 Monster Points…]
[Ding! Level 5 enhancement successful. Congratulations to the host for enhancing the wasp to Level 5. Wasp has successfully awakened the innate ability, "Information Sharing"!]
He read the details of Little Yellow's enhancement to level 5.
Jobs' eyes lit up. He had been continuously investing in monster points to strengthen Little Yellow to level 5. This was what he was waiting for!
Every time a pet was upgraded to level 5, a talent skill would be awakened. A talent skill was the unique innate ability of each individual pet, it would also be obtained by the host.
This was the most powerful trump card which would allow him to establish himself in the Shipley Continent and become an expert!
With uncontrollable excitement, Jobs opened the detailed page of his newly awakened talent skill, [Information Sharing].



Jobs transmigrates to a world of sword and magic. In this world, there is a Sword Saint who can split a mountain with a single strike, an extraordinary magister who can control the elements, and a dark-robed demon god who sacrifices to the darkness. 

This is a world where opportunity and danger coexists. And Jobs is just an ordinary person who cannot cultivate battle aura, nor can he condense elemental magic. Just when he's at a loss, he suddenly awakens a Super Monster Rearing system! Through the system's evolution, any living thing can evolve into a monstrous monster. 

Have you tried to raise a small snake into a giant dragon? Have you tried to raise a small dog into a three-headed hellhound? Have you tried to raise a sparrow into a phoenix that is reborn through the ashes? 

With the system, everything is easy! What? I can still obtain their innate abilities?!

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