this book include all the heroes and villlians which are losts a while ago and  we try to bring them back for you 
#IM

                                Nick 

27th October 2019

The hectic roar of the city, people dodging people. Nick, zigzags avoiding the many shoulders and swinging arms the city has to offer. Not a single drop of coffee spills, he rushes down the street into a glass building. Nick stands in foyer, the marble grey floor, the phones constantly ringing off the hook. Nick pushes his glasses up to his eyes, taking a deep breath.

He walks down the steps, the building busy, one of the busiest days he has seen this year. He makes his way to his desk. Nick sets down his satchel as he sets his coffee down. He looks around his cubby hole, the office near enough to empty. The peace and quiet is angelic to his head, not the normal buzzing and laughter he is accustomed to. Nick runs his hands through his dark, brown, combed over hair. Nick, a tall, good looking, somewhat feels his looks are the reason people pick on him. Although not comfortable in his own skin, could melt a womans heart. He rubs his hand off of the stubble on his face. He readjusts his glasses as he stares at the computer screen.

He logs onto his desktop. The illustrations on his wallpaper is that of the company logo. 'Comet Comics.' Nick clicks into the folder titled work in progress. The folder contains some of Nick's newest comic, The Death Slinger. A comic about a cowboy forced to roam a western town in search of the men who murdered his wife. Nick is due to be published with his latest instalment of the franchise in just a week. The final touches are being made to ensure the comic is up to his standard. Nick zones out, tapping into his writers mode. 

From down the hall, Nick can hear the shouts and screams of the Neanderthal boys. Their screams can be heard from the lobby. Nick never raises his head, staying deep into his work. The group of guys pray on the weakness of nice guys like Nick, always bullying him and making him feel as small as they can. Nick buries his head into his head into the desktop, trying to remain hidden.

It's no use. They spot him a mile away. The Neanderthals make their way to Nick to Nick. They pick up some of his belongings off of his desk and start to throw it between them. Nick, still with his head down pays no attention to them. Suddenly a ball bounces off of Nick's head causing him to become upset "Leave me alone." Nick says, banging his hands off of his desk. The bullies laugh as they throw Nick's ball back onto the desk. Nick sits down on his chair, this fists balled, his knuckles whiten. He takes multiple deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. He continues writing his graphic novel as though nothing has happened. 

The day is finished, Nick logs off of his computer as he packs his things into his satchel. He walks toward the elevator, getting jeered as he passes each cubicle. Nick presses the button as he waits for the elevator. The smell of smell of a cherry lip gloss forms an aroma around his senses. She stands beside Nick at the elevator. His palms sweaty, his heart racing. The girl of his dreams, Mandy. The sweet, innocent smell of her perfume, her effortless beauty and her kind nature makes Nick feel bubbly inside "Hi, Mandy," he says smiling, gripping tighter of his satchel.

She flashes that million dollar smile. Nick's knees weaken, he' lost in the magic of her eyes. "Hey, Nick. How are you?." She asks. He can not find the words, her eyes hypnotize him, a gentle bite of her bottom lip sends Nick pulse soaring. "Your looks pretty today" he responds. Mandy smiling curling her eyes up as she flicks her hair "Thanks, yours too" replies Mandy.

The elevator dings, the doors open. Mandy enters the elevator as Nick stands trance like starring at her. She holds the door for a moment "Uh Nick?. Aren't you going down?" She asks. Nick snaps back to reality, shaking his head, entering the elevator. The ride down is silent, the awkward tension fills the small space. Nick and Mandy both admiring the walls, the steel floor and the one broken light. He looks at Mandy, pointing to the broken light "Crappy lighting or what?." Mandy smiles, rubbing her left arm up and down, almost in slow motion. The pair step out from the elevator, Mandy flashes her smile, waving to Nick as she leaves the building. Nick stands watching, he bops himself on the head "Well done Nick, you finally get the girl of your dreams alone and you make a comment about the damn broken light" he says. Nick takes his bicycle from the stand outside. He places his helmet on and takes off down the road. 

Nick arrives home after a long cycle. He take his bike into the loading bay and locks to the pole. He enters his one bedroom apartment. A small space, he throws his satchel onto the couch as he puts the kettle on. He takes a deep breath, taking off his tie. He unbuttons his shirt, throwing it in the washing machine. Nick opens the door of his fridge, grabbing an old Chinese takeaway. He grabs a fork from his cutlery drawer and begins chomping on the one day old food. 

Nick sits on his couch, about to turn on the television when his phone rings suddenly. He picks up the phone, answering the call "Hello? - long time no talk. How are y- what? - oh my god." Nick hangs up the phone as he takes a deep breath, reclining back on his couch.

When her best friend falls from the roof of her house, during the graduation pool party, Whitney and her friends are devastated by the death of their friend . Now four months later the group have moved on, going to separate universities, trying to leave the past behind them. But when another friend is killed by a maniac wielding a serrated steel weapon. The group is forced back to Forest Hills to attend the funeral. 

But when the remaining friends begin to get threatening messages from an unknown person threating to exploit a secret that they buried deep in their past, Whitney and her friends are forced to come together before that can happen. As the killer lurks in the shadows taunting the group, one thing is for sure... This isn't a game... And the killer doesn't intend on stopping the murder spree any time soon, killing the group one by one... Who will survive?... Who is the killer..?. What is the secret?... The friends are about to see that not all secrets remain buried...

Since the old woman was in the hospital for her treatment, she rented the whole room to the agent. The agent, who was around thirty, was not a local, and following the company's requirement, he wore a white formal shirt every day. He was polite and kind.
However, that was hiding a broken man. He was an unlucky man. No matter what he did, he would fail for some reason. Other than that, weird things kept happening to him like having nightmares that his wife had been chopped up and shoved into drawers. It would haunt him for the whole night, and then he woke up in the morning, realizing he did not even have a girlfriend.
When he left home, the sun was shining, but the moment he stepped out, it started to pour. His shirt was soaked, and he decided to stop at the nearby shop to have breakfast. After breakfast, he realized that he had left his wallet at home. This meant that he could not call for a taxi. He walked to the company and was scolded by his boss for being late. He lost the client because he was late to the appointment, and when he returned home, he realized that a burglar had broken into his home.
Such a day of tragedy was an everyday occurrence for the man. However, compared to these things, the real despairing event was the realization that his own house was haunted!
He stayed in the old house alone, and whenever he wanted to relax at night by watching the television, before the punchline, someone would laugh behind him. There were many similar things. In the middle of his shower, someone would pass him the shampoo, and when he was trapped on the toilet without paper, the toilet paper would roll in on its own.
He had once been a firm non-believer, but the many things he had experienced inside the house changed his worldview. To prove that he did not suffer from a mental illness, he bought a camera and started to record his own home. One week later, he realized that there was indeed a ghost inside the home, and it was hiding inside the drawers!
The agent used wooden planks to seal up all the drawers and dressers, and the ghost stopped appearing. However, his bad luck seemed to worsen. About one month later, he was fired from his job, and on his way home, he died in a car accident.
After he died, the agent realized that a malicious ghost had been following him, and it was the spirits inside the home who had been helping him. After he sealed up the drawers and dressers, the malicious ghost had stopped being affected by the spirits, and it eventually took the agent's life.
The main character of the fourth story was the old landlady. The tenants who rented her place had all died from accidents. Her heart was wrought by guilt, thinking this was all her fault. Slowly, the old lady's mind twisted. She had this feeling her own son and the two tenants had not left the room and had stayed to accompany her.
She asked the neighbors, but those who knew about the home's past gave her a wide berth. They thought that she was a tragic woman. Some even moved away like the old lady would curse them. The tenants in the building slowly decreased, and the old lady retreated into herself.
Slowly, there were rumors that the old residential area was haunted, and the old lady was equated to the source of these stories. Everyone stayed away from her, and no one wanted to interact with her.
This went on for a long time until the old lady met a poor artist under the bridge. The man's face was wounded like he had just been in a physical altercation. The old woman pitied him and asked the artist to draw a portrait of her dead son.
Initially, she just wanted to find a reason to give the artist some money so that he could eat, but the finished portrait was not just similar to her son—he managed to capture his presence, aura, and gaze. The old lady treasured the portrait and hung it in her house.
To her surprise, there was someone who came to ask her about the rental the next day, and the newest tenant was the artist. The artist was surprised that the landlord was the old lady. He went through the old residential area and found the cheapest room.
Life was constructed by many coincidences. The artist found his first fan in his life, and the old woman found someone who was not afraid of her and wished to talk to her. The artist became the home's latest tenant. The old lady took the rental from him in a symbolic manner. She treated the artist like her own son, and her favorite thing to do was talk about his dreams and wishes.
One month later, the old lady found something weird about the artist. He would converse with his drawings, and every night at midnight, there would be weird noises coming from his room.
During the third month, the old lady finally followed her curiosity and sneaked into his room when the artist was out. In the end, inside the artist's drawer, she found a homemade comic made from a sketchbook. It had four stories.
The creepy drawing style and scary stories brought the characters to life, and the most surprising detail was that the first three stories matched the old lady's son, the English teacher, and real estate agent perfectly.
The more she read, the more afraid she became. Then she turned to the fourth story. To her surprise, she was the main character of the story, and it was telling the events that happened after she met the artist. The fourth story ended there, and it was the last story.
The fifth story was very short—it felt more like an epilogue. The main character was a comic artist. He did not look extraordinary. He was just like a normal middle-aged man.
The comic introduced his daily life. He woke up at 5:20 am and gave himself a pep-talk in the mirror. Then he started working. He would work until 8:20 am. He arranged his draft and personally went to Jiujiang's local publisher to recommend his story to the editor.
Alas, a month's hard work was denied in less than fifteen minutes. He left the office like a walking dead. He held the draft and sat by the road. He looked at the cars that zoomed past him and only returned home when the sky was dark.
He walked through the busy city and into the darkened staircase. He pushed the door open to Room 304.
The warm light fell on his body. The landlady cooked him dinner and said that she had seen the painting that he drew that morning. She told him it was a masterpiece. The artist could not remember how many times he had been rejected already. He apologized to the old lady and promised he would not pick up the paint brush again.
He hid himself in his room and locked the door. Hugging his knees, he curled up in the corner of the room. He looked at the drawer full of rejection letters and buried his head in his chest.
He had failed once more. He crumbled the rejected script into a ball and tossed it inside the dustbin. He kept complaining, saying that he had no talent, and decided to give up everything. He would jump from the building before he continued drawing. He talked to himself until midnight, and the tired artist fell asleep on the mat.
The lights in the room flickered before going out completely.
The draft in the trashcan floated out on its own, and it flattened itself out. It was placed carefully into the box under the bookshelf, and the table was carefully arranged to a tidy state.
The last panel of the comic was black and white. In the small room, the artist was already asleep, but there were several 'people' floating around him.
The first was a thin man; he used his remaining right hand to cover the artist with a blanket, grumbling how worrisome the man was. Beside him was a woman whose body seemed like it was going to collapse anytime soon. The woman's beautiful face was locked in a deep frown. She carefully taped the torn drafts together.
On the other side of the table was a man in a black shirt. He was using a pen to correct and edit the comic artist's draft.
The night passed by just like that. At 5:20 am the next morning, the alarm rang punctually, and the comic artist woke up from his dream. He turned off the alarm and looked at himself in the mirror. He smiled and gave him the daily pep talk. "A new day has begun. Give it your best shot! At least you're alive. One day you'll make it!"


The hearse with the weird odor slowed to a stop before the entrance. The sound of pebbles could be heard bouncing on the ceiling. There were footsteps coming from the corridor, and there seemed to be someone sawing next door. The door knob to the room rattled slightly, and the faucet in the bathroom kept dripping even though it had been screwed shut. There was a rubber ball that rolled on its own underneath the bed. Wet footsteps started to surface one after another on the floor. 
At 3 am, Chen Ge held a cleaver in his hand as he hid beside the room heater. The call he was trying to make was finally answered. "Landlord, is this what you meant by 'the house can be a little crowded at night'‽"

￼302 I"ll Fulfil Your Dream  My House of Horrors￼

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Since the old woman was in the hospital for her treatment, she rented the whole room to the agent. The agent, who was around thirty, was not a local, and following the company's requirement, he wore a white formal shirt every day. He was polite and kind.

However, that was hiding a broken man. He was an unlucky man. No matter what he did, he would fail for some reason. Other than that, weird things kept happening to him like having nightmares that his wife had been chopped up and shoved into drawers. It would haunt him for the whole night, and then he woke up in the morning, realizing he did not even have a girlfriend.

When he left home, the sun was shining, but the moment he stepped out, it started to pour. His shirt was soaked, and he decided to stop at the nearby shop to have breakfast. After breakfast, he realized that he had left his wallet at home. This meant that he could not call for a taxi. He walked to the company and was scolded by his boss for being late. He lost the client because he was late to the appointment, and when he returned home, he realized that a burglar had broken into his home.

Such a day of tragedy was an everyday occurrence for the man. However, compared to these things, the real despairing event was the realization that his own house was haunted!

He stayed in the old house alone, and whenever he wanted to relax at night by watching the television, before the punchline, someone would laugh behind him. There were many similar things. In the middle of his shower, someone would pass him the shampoo, and when he was trapped on the toilet without paper, the toilet paper would roll in on its own.

He had once been a firm non-believer, but the many things he had experienced inside the house changed his worldview. To prove that he did not suffer from a mental illness, he bought a camera and started to record his own home. One week later, he realized that there was indeed a ghost inside the home, and it was hiding inside the drawers!

The agent used wooden planks to seal up all the drawers and dressers, and the ghost stopped appearing. However, his bad luck seemed to worsen. About one month later, he was fired from his job, and on his way home, he died in a car accident.

After he died, the agent realized that a malicious ghost had been following him, and it was the spirits inside the home who had been helping him. After he sealed up the drawers and dressers, the malicious ghost had stopped being affected by the spirits, and it eventually took the agent's life.

The main character of the fourth story was the old landlady. The tenants who rented her place had all died from accidents. Her heart was wrought by guilt, thinking this was all her fault. Slowly, the old lady's mind twisted. She had this feeling her own son and the two tenants had not left the room and had stayed to accompany her.

She asked the neighbors, but those who knew about the home's past gave her a wide berth. They thought that she was a tragic woman. Some even moved away like the old lady would curse them. The tenants in the building slowly decreased, and the old lady retreated into herself.


Slowly, there were rumors that the old residential area was haunted, and the old lady was equated to the source of these stories. Everyone stayed away from her, and no one wanted to interact with her.

This went on for a long time until the old lady met a poor artist under the bridge. The man's face was wounded like he had just been in a physical altercation. The old woman pitied him and asked the artist to draw a portrait of her dead son.

Initially, she just wanted to find a reason to give the artist some money so that he could eat, but the finished portrait was not just similar to her son—he managed to capture his presence, aura, and gaze. The old lady treasured the portrait and hung it in her house.

To her surprise, there was someone who came to ask her about the rental the next day, and the newest tenant was the artist. The artist was surprised that the landlord was the old lady. He went through the old residential area and found the cheapest room.

Life was constructed by many coincidences. The artist found his first fan in his life, and the old woman found someone who was not afraid of her and wished to talk to her. The artist became the home's latest tenant. The old lady took the rental from him in a symbolic manner. She treated the artist like her own son, and her favorite thing to do was talk about his dreams and wishes.

One month later, the old lady found something weird about the artist. He would converse with his drawings, and every night at midnight, there would be weird noises coming from his room.

During the third month, the old lady finally followed her curiosity and sneaked into his room when the artist was out. In the end, inside the artist's drawer, she found a homemade comic made from a sketchbook. It had four stories.

The creepy drawing style and scary stories brought the characters to life, and the most surprising detail was that the first three stories matched the old lady's son, the English teacher, and real estate agent perfectly.

The more she read, the more afraid she became. Then she turned to the fourth story. To her surprise, she was the main character of the story, and it was telling the events that happened after she met the artist. The fourth story ended there, and it was the last story.

The fifth story was very short—it felt more like an epilogue. The main character was a comic artist. He did not look extraordinary. He was just like a normal middle-aged man.

The comic introduced his daily life. He woke up at 5:20 am and gave himself a pep-talk in the mirror. Then he started working. He would work until 8:20 am. He arranged his draft and personally went to Jiujiang's local publisher to recommend his story to the editor.

Alas, a month's hard work was denied in less than fifteen minutes. He left the office like a walking dead. He held the draft and sat by the road. He looked at the cars that zoomed past him and only returned home when the sky was dark.

He walked through the busy city and into the darkened staircase. He pushed the door open to Room 304.

The warm light fell on his body. The landlady cooked him dinner and said that she had seen the painting that he drew that morning. She told him it was a masterpiece. The artist could not remember how many times he had been rejected already. He apologized to the old lady and promised he would not pick up the paint brush again.

He hid himself in his room and locked the door. Hugging his knees, he curled up in the corner of the room. He looked at the drawer full of rejection letters and buried his head in his chest.

He had failed once more. He crumbled the rejected script into a ball and tossed it inside the dustbin. He kept complaining, saying that he had no talent, and decided to give up everything. He would jump from the building before he continued drawing. He talked to himself until midnight, and the tired artist fell asleep on the mat.

The lights in the room flickered before going out completely.

The draft in the trashcan floated out on its own, and it flattened itself out. It was placed carefully into the box under the bookshelf, and the table was carefully arranged to a tidy state.

The last panel of the comic was black and white. In the small room, the artist was already asleep, but there were several 'people' floating around him.

The first was a thin man; he used his remaining right hand to cover the artist with a blanket, grumbling how worrisome the man was. Beside him was a woman whose body seemed like it was going to collapse anytime soon. The woman's beautiful face was locked in a deep frown. She carefully taped the torn drafts together.

On the other side of the table was a man in a black shirt. He was using a pen to correct and edit the comic artist's draft.

The night passed by just like that. At 5:20 am the next morning, the alarm rang punctually, and the comic artist woke up from his dream. He turned off the alarm and looked at himself in the mirror. He smiled and gave him the daily pep talk. "A new day has begun. Give it your best shot! At least you're alive. One day you'll make it!" 
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　　On Sunday, at Tang Xin's home.
　　Li Xi rushed to Tang Xin's residence early in the morning.
　　As soon as he walked in, he saw Tang Xin playing the game called the League of Legends again.
　　Tang Xin in front of the computer, wearing pajamas, her hair is still a bit messy, her pretty and cute face is full of concentration, her eyes staring at the computer screen without blinking.
　　Only this time, Li Xi did not stop Tang Xin from playing games.
　　Because just yesterday Saturday..... This year, for the first time, Tang Xin actually completed the manga manuscript of Dream World's latest story before the deadline on Sunday..... You
　　must know yesterday. Li Xi, who was planning to come over to remind the manuscript, learned from his assistant that Tang Xin, who had read the newest words of Initial D on Friday, stayed up late to finish drawing the manga, he really felt directly whether he was dreaming or not.
　　Before the change, Tang Xin didn't say staying up late to draw comics. If Li Xi didn't come to supervise, at three o'clock in the afternoon, this person would either go to bed or read comics. It is indeed Li Xi who has been an editor for so many years. Lazy cartoonist.
　　After carefully asking Tang Xin's assistant if she was stimulated to do this.
　　Li Xi got a speechless answer from them... The
　　reason why Tang Xin stayed up on Friday to catch up with the manuscript was to finish the comic manuscript before Saturday, so as not to be caught by Li Xi like last week. Forbidden to go to school and learn to drive a car.
　　Just for this?
　　Do you want to go to a driving school to learn to drive?
　　I have been working hard for three years, but I can't make you more diligent. I can do it with the initial D comic?
　　There was a sense of frustration in Li Xi's heart.
　　But in connection with the fact that the day before yesterday was the day when the seventh episode of the initial D was released, coupled with the racing plot of the seventh episode, it really made people feel emotional. It is understandable that Tang Xin, who is a little childish, was affected all at once.
　　It's a pity that Tang Xin finished the comic manuscript one day yesterday and was excited for a whole day. In the end, she didn't receive a message from Chu Yu asking her to go to the driving school. Because Chu Yu was busy with things on Saturday, she was not ready to go!
　　So after yesterday afternoon, Tang Xin was slightly depressed.
　　Li Xi and Chu Yu agreed that if Chu Yu has time to go to the driving school, they will send a message to her and Tang Xin first. If both parties have time, then Chu Yu will be responsible for taking care of Tang during the training time of the driving school. Xin, don't let her cause trouble.
　　But if Chu Yu didn't have time to practice the car, Li Xi would not worry about letting Tang Xin go to the driving school alone.
　　Just watching Tang Xin playing the game there, he pulled out his mobile phone and opened Weixin to see if Chu Yu had sent a message to her...
　　Li Xi let out a sigh of relief.
　　Do you want to go to driving school and learn to drive?
　　It seems that the initial D has a great influence on her!
　　Thinking of this, Li Xi's expression softened slightly.
　　"Tang Xin..."
　　Although he was playing the game, and because he was playing the nurse assistant, he would only stand under the tower to add blood to the ad, and let the ad stare at the bloody cancer in front of him. , Tell her to hang up.
　　However, Tang Xin was not at all willing to be weak, and even put aside the task of adding blood to the ad, using lame two-finger Zen typing and ad scolding on the screen. 　　But when she heard Li Xi's voice suddenly, she still shook her body. 　　"Li Xi, you are misunderstood. I'm not playing games. I'm just observing the characters of heroes in the game and looking for comic inspiration. Now I have plenty of inspiration. I will draw comics right away..." 　　just said Halfway through, she immediately reacted. Didn't she hand in the manuscript of this week's manga? 　　So after looking back at Li Xi, his face was puzzled, and then his complexion changed drastically after thinking of something. 　　"Li Xi, you are here... will not be the manga manuscript for next week!"

　　"Today is Sunday..."
　　"No, I've been used to staying at your house on weekends for a long time. I'm bored and come over and take a look. As agreed, your tasks for this week have been completed. As long as you don't do dangerous or excessive actions, I won't hinder you."
　　Li Xi looked at Tang Xin, who was still scolding his teammates in the game while talking to her, and let out a long sigh.
　　Playing a game to spray people will only be a fool, an idiot, and an idiot. These three sentences are really poor. It is true that Tang Xin needs to go out and walk more. It is also good for her to go to the driving school to train and communicate with people.
　　"Li Xi, you only do this when you are too idle for a day."
　　Tang Xin, who knew that Li Xi was not here to remind the manuscript, breathed a sigh of relief and spoke boldly.
　　"Go find a boyfriend and your attention won't be with me on weekends... You are such a big person, it is also time..."
　　But, as it is. After half of her saw Li Xi's sharp eyes, she immediately shrank her head.
　　He didn't even have the mood of scolding with the ad, so he hurriedly went over to add blood to the ad, pretending to concentrate on the game.
　　Li Xi smiled, and he was serious about this guy.
　　"Tang Xin, you can see that you really like to go to driving school and learn to drive!" Li Xi changed the topic.
　　"Hmm!" Tang Xin turned his head immediately.
　　"Let's do it! After all, Chu Yu doesn't have time to practice the car every weekend. His words are two cartoons... and there are other things. I don't necessarily go today. If he is there today No news..."
　　"I'll drive you to drive school to learn about the car, and then take you to the city center to go shopping and play in the evening?" Li Xi looked at Tang Xin.
　　After all, Tang Xin spends almost all of his time in fishing and drawing comics. Li Xi still rarely goes out with Tang Xin daily to play and go shopping. Taking advantage of her comic manuscript drawing this week, he can still be together. Go out and play.
　　Tang Xin, who just heard Li Xi's words, froze all of a sudden, turned his head, his face was full of disgust.
　　"No! Li Xi, do it yourself. If Chu Yu doesn't call me, I won't go to the driving school today, I will play games at home!"
　　Li Xi felt a shock all at once.
　　Was he actually rejected by this guy?
　　Ding Dong!
　　At this time, Tang Xin's mobile phone prompt sounded.
　　When I clicked it on, it was a message from Chu Yu Weixin.
　　"I'm going to the driving school this afternoon. If you don't finish the manga manuscript,  or have other things, then you can be busy with you, don't use it!"
　　"It's okay..... ...I will arrive at the driving school on time in the afternoon." Tang Xin replied to Chu Yu typing with excitement.
　　Li Xi, who was standing next to Tang Xin, looked speechless.
　　what's the situation?
　　You are so disgusted when I go to the driving school with you. You are so happy after Chu Yu and you met several times?
　　You trust him just because the other party is the author of your favorite initial D?
　　Li Xi couldn't figure it out a bit.
　　It's just that Li Xi naturally doesn't know, what is the real purpose of Tang Xin going to the driving school nowadays?
　　It is important to learn to drift, but it is more important for everyone to play hacking games together.
　　Tang Xin understands this game. It is easy to play this game alone and it will feel boring. It takes three people to play black to have passion!
　　If you want Li Xi to go together, how can the three of Tang Xin expect to go on the dark?
　　And what if Li Xi can't think about it, she won't be allowed to go to the driving school in the future?
　　So you must not let Li Xi follow along!
　　Tang Xin nodded heavily.

another work published by me {My Cartoonist Guide}

　Chu Yu, a senior two-dimensional fan, a dead house in the eyes of others, and a cheating comic book author in the eyes of readers!
On that day, he obtained the system that carries many excellent comic works on the parallel world earth... and
began his life as a comic artist who considered himself a legend, but was actually a silly comic artist!
Reader A, "Teacher, please, please finish drawing the full-time hunter first and then open a new hole? It's been three years, and three years later, three years have been opened for ten years. You want me Will my son burn me the full-time hunter's final chapter?"
Reader B, "Old thief Chuyu, you know what a fart cl. If you don't resurrect Furukawa, I will send you the blade tomorrow!"
Reader C, "Hehe, Xiangbei is down !" It's over in the top eight in the country? Chu Yu Lao Kengbi, do you want to pass by saying "the dream of youth is imperfect"? I swear, I will die for your works in the future, outside of death, from my house If I jump down, I won’t look at it again!"


if you would like to make a donation-----PayPal: lopesplayer2@gmail.com



 “Soo…” A voice broke through the silence, which was Urkstin’s, who sounded like he was trying his best, “I think we should get to know each other better!” 

 “I don’t think that’s necessary.” Mia said, eating her breakfast while looking at the table. “That could just get us attached to each other.” 

 “Well, if we get to know each other better, wouldn’t that make us not want to hurt each other?” Urkstin retorted. 

 “Mr. Urkstin raises a good point, perhaps we should go along with this, at least as an experiment to see how we fare against it.” Liam explained, backing up Urkstin’s idea. 

 “I agree, we should try it out. I need to get to know you guys better.” Akira added on, leaning in on her seat. “What’s the topic Urkstin?” 

 “Oh, uh… how about our favorite things?” He suggested, “I can start!” 

 “Go ahead Ark Stine, I’m gonna need to think about mine.” Poppy prompted, rubbing her temples. 

 “Alright then… my favorite thing, excluding cars obviously, is probably painting! Even as a kid I always loved to paint stuff, and it was a good hobby of mine before I became a full time racer.” Urkstin retold, thinking back to better times. 

 “What kind of things did you paint?” I asked, interested in his ability. 

 “Well, the last one I remember making… was this blue and purple bunny that was holding a toy car.” He explained, while we all came up with our own ideas of what it looked like. 

 “That sounds… really cool looking.” Akira complimented, while Urkstin rubbed his head and laughed. 

 “Ah geez, it doesn’t look that good, from what I can remember.” He replied modestly, “But painting is my favorite non-talent related thing! Who wants to go next?” 

 “I may be able to go.” Liam muttered, raising his hand. We all turned to him collectively before he cleared his throat and continued, “I was an attentive collector of the properties of superhero stories.” 

 “...So you collected comic books?” Urkstin asked, making Liam turn his head away from us before nodding nervously. 

 “Oh, that’s cool!” Akira complimented, making Liam turn back in surprise, “How much do you have?” 

 “I…” He said, before returning to his uptight and overly explanatory tone, “I have collected all series in the marvel comic universe ever from 1939 to the present day.” 

 “That's impressive! You’ve collected all of that?” Poppy asked, her jaw agape, “Where do ya even keep all of that?” 

 “I used to have an entire closet dedicated to sorting and holding the comic books that I have collected over the years.” Liam explained, “It was a very useful room.” 

 “Well that’s not what I expected from you, but I’m glad I know Liam!” Urkstin cheered, smiling at the progress we had made, “Who wants to go next?” 

 “Well, I-” Risa started, seeming like she wanted to share, but was interrupted by the sound of the Loudspeakers turning on. 

 “Good Morning Contestants. I am here to announce that the paths leading from the infirmary and library hallways have opened up! You may explore them at your own discretion.” After that, the Loudspeakers shut off. 

 “Oh boy, more rooms for us to be trapped in.” Mia mocked, rolling her eyes, “If you all want to check it out, I’ll be staying here.” 

 “Well what about our friendship circle?” Urkstin asked, looking upset. 

 “We can continue that later Urkstin.” I replied, smiling and patting him on the head, “For now, we need to look for a way out of here.” 

 “Right!” Poppy said, as everyone stood up, and made their way out of the cafeteria, splitting off in the two different directions. I decided to follow the group going to the infirmary hallway, and caught up with them as they walked. 

 “What do you think is gonna be down this new hallway?” Akira questioned. 

 “Hopefully something cool and fun! Like an art room, or a playground.” Urkstin replied, setting his expectations high. 

 “Why would a prison have a playground?” I asked, snickering at the idea of inmates playing in a jungle gym. 

 “Well you don’t know, this guy behind this is wild! Who knows what they could throw at us next.” Urkstin retorted, bringing up a good point. 

 “Well, we’ve yet to see an office, or storage room, or any sort of job area so-” I started, before Akira interjected. 

 “So the next motive’s gonna be jobs! Obviously!” 

 “I…” I tried to respond, but couldn’t be bothered to start thinking about the motives again. 

 “Think about it though,” Akira continued, “If they like, give us taxing jobs like lugging around logs of wood or something, that would tire us out and stuff!” 

 “And you think that would eventually break someone?” Urkstin inquired. 

 “I dunno, maybe.” She answered, shrugging her shoulders. As we finished our small talk about hypothetical motive jobs, we had reached the cell door past the infirmary, and opened it slowly, following the winding set of hallways towards our newest area unlocked. 

 “Please be an art room, please be an art room.” Urkstin chanted, crossing his fingers as we walked. 

 “Please no jobs, please no jobs.” Akira joined in. 

 “Please stop chanting, please stop chanting.” I finished off our triple chant choir, as we reached an open doorway into a new area, and as we walked in, we all collectively took a gasp of fresh air. 

 The area in front of us was a courtyard, with a large open field of grass, with fauna like rocks, flowers, and even a tree covering the area. As I looked up in disbelief, I noticed how there was no ceiling! Instead, there was a large open space for the grass and fauna to collect the sunlight they need, alongside water from the rain. 

 Unfortunately, there were metal bars covering the length of the sun roof, preventing the idea of escaping through there from coming into my head. 

 “Yo! Maybe we could get out of here through that sunroof!” Also unfortunately, Akira and Urkstin did not have the same realization as me, as she threw out that idea. 

 “Ohhh, you’re right! If we get like some rope or a ladder, then-” Urkstin tried to offer help, but I was quick to shut the operation down. 

 “That won’t work, sadly.” 

 “How do you know that?” Akira shot back, putting her hands on her hips. 

 “Well, for one, those bars covering the sunroof are spaced so closely together that we wouldn’t be able to squeeze through if we made it up there,” I started to explain, pointing to the distance between the bars, “Secondly, the roof is like… eighteen feet off the ground, so it’s gonna be pretty hard to get up there in the first place.” 

 “You… have a point.” Akira muttered, losing her sense of excitement. 

 “Well, it’s good to have sunlight regardless!” Urkstin responded, keeping his optimism. “Maybe I can get a tan here!” 

 “Maybe.” I replied, snickering at his playful tone. It was then that I took a moment to look around the field, noticing something. “Hey uh, I think this is the only room over here.” 

 “Huh?” Akira and Urkstin both searched around as well after hearing that, also coming up short. 

 “Well, that’s upsetting,” Akira remarked, “But there is always the other hallway that opened up.” 

 “Awww, but that’s like all the way on the other side of the prison.” Urkstin complained, letting out a grunt of frustration. 

 “Hey, look on the bright side,” I assured, patting him on the back, “There might be an art room over there.” 

 That seemed to get him perked up, as he soon rushed out of the courtyard, leaving Akira and myself to pick up the pace and catch up with him, while he was well on his way towards the library.﻿

11 Students wake up in a completely isolated building, with no way out, and no way to tell the time of day. They are forced to follow the rules of a "Killing Game' in order to earn their freedom, where murdering means a potential escape. From personal tensions and handpicked motivations, will they be able to find a way out before they all drop dead?

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