Mina is a foreign exchange student from Japan. She has always been shy and timid specially around Mark. The guy of her dreams who seems to only see her bestfriend Sana.

A gruesome murder seems more than just a visual threat

"Grab your palette and pad
Hold your pencil and brush
Follow every line, focus, and don't rush
Wanderlust in papers is what I do
Here's the world I'm going to show you

Perfectionist I may describe myself
'Cuz my work is not just easy to write down and put it on a shelf 
Travel; Different colors on our flight
Yellow and white for our light
And black for its twinkling at night 

Welcome to my visual diary
A book and my gallery
Where my own people exist
Wonderful things you can't resist 
Handosme guys, hugs and kisses
Villains, creatures and princesses 
I'm also a novel with an abstract art
"I wish they were real" says my heart

My diary also has its ending page
But let's create something new
As our yellow brick road continues
In every drawing we pass through
In every point of view, every curve I drew
Unsatisfying hunger to create and 
Sketching a search of peace I do

A reason in every drawing
Every color shows its feelings
Every masterpiece has its meaning
Real art; is the one who draws 
A man; who's the paper with her flaws
A brush; her mouth that speaks
The painting; the words with colors it flows
Wanderlust in papers is done
Another masterpiece is made
Art from the heart that'll not be gone
Even if its colors will fade"

We all have random thoughts in the middle of the night. We all have broken pieces. 
But it's hard to tell what your heart feels. 
We have a lot of things in mind. 
We have voices but we're afraid to speak. 
So here's a pen and paper; write. It's free. 
Cry it out in every pages. 
When reality gets rough, 
Let's runaway and make our own fantasy. 
Let's dream and write what our heart beats for
And escape reality. 
Everday is a new chapter and every pages has its own story to tell. 
Don't be afraid, the pen will help you say what you really feel but cannot tell.

On Saturday morning, Josephine and Francis came to stand before the entrance of the East Wing when the Chimangat stepped in and held up the scroll he was carrying.
"This is a royal decree;
"In the lights of the investigation conducted by the Royal Intelligence Services in collaboration with the police to uncover the cause of the physical confrontation between Prince Angel and Prince Francis made known to the public by the illegal upload of a video recording of the above-cited altercation, it has been discovered that the crown prince has been the target of a conspirator whose aim was to cause him to lose his place on the throne.
"Further investigation requested by the High Council has come to prove that the royal consort, Princess Josephine, and her son, Prince Francis, are the instigators behind the following incidents and all the commotions that have derived therefrom:
"The illegal release of pictures of Crown Prince Angel in the company of Miss Natacha Irung on the last day of his official trip to Kinshasa;
"The breach of the secrecy agreement on the presence of Changadim Kat Sama at the royal palace;
"The secret procurement of an invitation to Prince Francis 26th Birthday Celebration for Miss Natacha Irung;
"The illegal record and release of the video showing Miss Natacha Irung's suicidal threat;
"And the illegal record and release of a video showing an altercation between Prince Angel and Prince Francis.
"All actions perpetrated in view to discredit the image of the crown prince before the entire kingdom.
"For having conspired against the crown prince and, thus, against the Throne and, by that, jeopardised the stability of the uRuund kingdom; by the kingly ruling, the royal consort, Princess Josephine, is condemned to permanent exile and is stripped off her royal status…"
Josephine felt as if her head had emptied up and her limbs had lost all vigour and took support on her son so as not to collapse.
The Chimangat continued without emotion. "As of the moment of the reading of this decree, Mrs Josephine Nsamb will neither hold the title of Royal Consort nor will she ever again be referred to as a member of the royal family.
"For having conspired against the crown prince, the Throne and the kingdom in complicity with Mrs Josephine Nsamb, Prince Francis, son of late Crown Prince John, is also condemned to permanent exile.
"However, Prince Francis will not be entirely stripped off his princely status. As a carrier of royal blood, Prince Francis will keep his princely title, but he will no longer beneficiate of all the privileges that ensue from a princely status within or outside the uRuund kingdom. Prince Francis will be entitled to the royal abode located in the United States of America he and his mother have previously occupied. 
"As at the moment of the reading of this decree, the ensuing take immediate effect:
"Prince Angel is reinstated to his position as the crown prince of Ruund, and Mrs Josephine Nsamb and Prince Francis are to be escorted out of the kingdom, and are to never set foot back on uRuund soil for the rest of their life.
"This royal ruling will be heralded publically and recorded in the Annals of Ruund Kingdom and of the royal family. 
"This decree has been dictated and sealed by Mwant Yav Angel II, King of Ruund, at this date and time, and has been approved by the High Council of Ruund."
Josephine was on the verge of unconsciousness and being fanned by her son when the Chimangat bowed and exited the East Wing while as royal officers walked in and started to pack up their belongings and royal guards came to stand next to them in wait to escort them to the airport.
Angel, who had come along with the Chimangat, had stayed standing by the entrance door while the royal decree was being proclaimed.
The idea he had submitted to his father had been approved by the High Council. Hence, to avoid having to disclose the true cause of the fight between the two princes, at the time the royal secretary would hold a press conference to publicise the royal ruling, he would state that the video was a hoax. 
Angel's idea was to make it look like the video was, in fact, the recording of a fake fight acted following the instructions of Lady Josephine in yet another attempt to sully the image of the crown prince. So, under the condition that the king should not be lenient towards Francis in his ruling, the members of the High Council had agreed to keep the truth covered – just that once – for the sake of preserving the image of the Throne.
Throughout the investigation, Angel had discovered that the hacker Josephine had used all along was also a specialist in special effects. So with his collaboration – and in exchange for a lighter penalty, it had been easy to mount up another video showing two actors being made up to look like the princes and prepped for the fight scene in an exact replica of the Forest Palace's living room as evidence to present to the public.
When Josephine and Francis' belongings had been packed, the royal guards proceeded to escort them out, but as they reached the entrance door, Angel signalled the guards to stop.
He looked at Francis. "You know… if you had come straight up to me and told me that you wanted the crown, I would have gladly stepped down in order to give it back to you because I always thought that you were better fit for the throne than I could ever be. But now that I've been able to see how low you are capable of stooping just so you can satisfy your selfish desires, I understand why God has put me on the throne instead of you."
Without waiting for a reply from his cousin, Angel signalled the royal guards to carry on with their task. As the guards led Josephine and Francis to the car parked in front of the Central Palace entrance, Peter approached the crown prince.
"Karl Tshisol has handed me this to give back to Your Highness." He explained as he handed Angel what appeared to be an A4 notepad. "It was found in Prince Francis' belongings during the investigation, but it appears to belong to the young maiden."
Angel opened the cover. On the first page was written very artistically 'My Visual Diary' and signed in Kat's name.
"Prince Francis refused to reveal how he came into possession of this item." The guard explained when Angel looked back at him with interrogative eyes. "However, after a thorough review of palace surveillance footage, we have discovered that Prince Francis had gone to the West Wing late on the night Your Highness had spent in the South Wing for of the maiden's birthday."
Angel slightly frowned. Francis had started to act strangely towards Kat the very following day. He looked back at the drawing pad. Could it have been because of the content of the diary? What information was Francis so eager to get that he even risked sneaking into the West Wing so as to acquire Kat's personal diary?
Those two questions led the crown prince to leaf through the pad, and, three drawings later, he finally understood why Francis had been so adamant in his assertion that Kat had fallen for him. Peter's keen observing eyes spotted a faint smile tracing on the crown prince's lips as he leafed further. 
The majority of the drawings was about him, and they were all titled according to the circumstances surrounding the captured moment. 
'First Encounter' was a drawing of Angel standing in front of the Sama property; 'I Was Moved…' showed Angel playing the piano; 'Symbiosis' was a drawing of Angel riding Tornado…
There was again a drawing of Angel in which the serene expression in his eyes was very much in the foreground titled 'His Favourite Place'. 
"The waterfall…"
Angel was really impressed by each drawing he was discovering. Kat did not have her drawing kit with her on all those occasions. How then had she managed to capture all of them on paper? 
"She must have a very good visual memory…" He concluded.
On the following drawing, Angel's eyebrows creased. The drawing was titled '…'; so, Angel had to rummage through his brain in order to finally make out the scene depicted. It was a drawing of him sleeping… But definitely not from the night he had rescued her. From the angle it was captured…
Angel's face suddenly lit up. "So she was not asleep on that morning…" He thought with a smile.
A few drawings after, Angel stumbled on a page where Kat had drawn his face as if leaning and written 'Stolen Kiss… (I'm doomed!)'. 
~ If I were to fall for you, then I'd be doomed. ~ 
The reply Kat had given him at the Forest palace when he had asked her what would happen if she fell in love with him immediately came back to his mind… Was the inscription in brackets in reference to that statement?
In the drawing, she had even succeeded at faithfully depicting the intent in his eyes when he had leant to capture her lips into a forceful kiss. Angel was somewhat taken aback. The anger and indignation he had read in Kat's eyes after she had pushed him away would have never led him to think that it was at that moment that she had come to the realisation of her feelings for him.
As he pondered over the matter, Angel was suddenly brought back to the answer he had received to his second question in the chapel. When he wanted to know whether he should seek for a way to hold onto the maiden or just let her go… When he thought the maiden had developed feelings for his cousin…
As he had repeatedly muttered that double question, another had raised in his spirit in response: "Are you 100% sure that she loves Francis?"
The fact that he could not answer that question with absolute certitude had turned out to be the answer he needed. Knowing with certitude whether Kat was in love with Francis or not was determinant in his decision either to hold onto the woman he had fallen in love with or to let her go to his cousin.
Looking at the drawing pad in his hands, Angel realised that he was receiving an answer to that third question…
…
Later that day, Angel was knocking at Kat's bedroom door. She opened the door and hesitantly made way for him to come in. Her hesitation was coming from the fact that, right after the hearing in the Throne Room, Angel had immediately dived into the RIS investigation so much so that they had gotten very little opportunities to even interact over a meal; making that the first time they would have an actual conversation since she had gone to see him in his bedroom on Sunday afternoon.
Angel walked straight up to the balcony and Kat followed suit; he took place on one of the chairs set there and Kat sat opposite him.
"Are they gone?" Kat asked.
The king had called for everyone in the private office to inform them of his ruling right before the Chimangat was sent to the East Wing.
Angel nodded. "Their flight has just taken off."
"So what exactly awaits them if they ever dare to come back to Ruund?"
"Imprisonment. But that's rather unlikely because they will always be under the same kind of surveillance I was when I was studying in London."
Kat raised her eyebrows. "You knew you were under surveillance?"
Angel faintly smiled. "I am the crown prince of Ruund…" He started. "Seeing how the Forest Palace is guarded while it's within the Royal Estate, how could they let me leave the kingdom without protection?
"University studies in a foreign country are, in a way, an opportunity for uRuund young royals to have a once in a lifetime 'out-of-the-palace' experience, but they cannot be left completely without protection. Though I never saw them, I knew that royal guards were always out there watching."
Kat nodded pensively. If Angel knew that there were guards watching over him, then he must have known that they were reporting all his movements to the king. Could he have purposely had an engagement ring made in a way of telling his father that he was serious about Natacha Irung?
The king had also announced that he would be granting Adolph Irung and his daughter the Royal Exoneration since they had made amend through their public announcement and by giving their full cooperation during the investigation. Was it a step towards accepting his son's feelings?
While Kat was still caught up in her cogitation, Angel placed something on the table and pushed it towards her. 
Flustered by the crown prince's visit, the young woman had not even paid attention to the object he had been holding in his hand all along; so his move surprised her. Kat took a look at the item then looked back at Angel in astonishment once she recognised it. How did he come into possession of her visual diary?
"It was found in Prince Francis' bedroom," Angel explained to answer the question in her eyes. "It appears that he snuck into your bedroom on the night we spent in the South Wing for your birthday."
"He had noticed it one day when I did a sketch of him. I guess the fact that I refused to let him browse through it must have piqued his curiosity…" Kat said almost to herself.
"Didn't you notice that it was gone?" Angel inquired.
"With everything that has happened since my birthday, I didn't even think about my visual diary. I never draw on a restless mind."
Kat scanned Angel's face. Did he look at the content? 
"Possibly…" she thought.
"I now understand why he was so adamant in his conviction that I have fallen for you…" Kat added, still scanning the crown prince's face.
Angel kept silently looking at her, not even a bit surprised by her statement.
"Definitely!" She concluded.
"So… tomorrow is D-Day." Angel finally let out.
"Yes… These three months have passed so fast…"
Kat then chuckled.
"What is it?" Angel inquired.
"It just that, at the time I moved into the palace, I imagined numerous outcomes to the Courtship Program… But none of them was even remotely resembling this one."
More than talking about what had happened with Prince Francis, Kat was referring to her falling in love with Angel. Thinking back at their first encounter, then their clash on her first night at the palace, she had always thought her options were either falling for Francis or going back home.
Normally, the appearance of Natacha Irung should have reinforced that conviction. But instead, it had ended up helping bring forth the feelings that she did not realise she already had for the crown prince at the time.
"I was really hoping that I would leave the palace without being found out." She added pensively before she left her chair and went to lean on the bannister.
As she looked at the beautiful landscape spreading before her eyes, she felt a heaviness gradually pressing on her heart. When Angel also left his seat and came to stand next to her, Kat looked at him. "Don't worry. I'm not about to go back on our agreement," she said when she noticed that he was looking at her with questioning eyes. "I hope Mwant Yav will be more inclined to accept the woman you love once I'll be out of the picture." She added as she looked back at the landscape.
Angel slightly frowned. Was he somehow projecting that he was still in love with Natacha?
"Changadim Kat…"
"Gosh! I'm going to miss this view…"
At the slightly chocked tone, Angel tried to look closer at the young woman's profile. But Kat quickly looked away. 
"Excuse me for a minute." She let out as she motioned to go back in the bedroom.
No matter how hard she tried, Kat was utterly failing at holding back her tears; and since she did not want to let Angel see her like that, she wanted to take refuge in her bathroom until she would be able to regain her countenance. But the crown prince was quicker to grab her by the wrist and pulled her into a back-hug. 
At the shock, Kat froze.
"Please, Kat… don't go…" Angel let out next to her ear.
"…"
Kat's lips had parted, but no sound was coming out because her mind was still racing in an attempt to understand the meaning of Angel's plea. At first, Kat wondered if she had heard right. And when her brain finally reported that the information registered was not erroneous, she started to wonder whether Angel was referring to her not leaving the balcony… or the palace…
Her heart was already set on the latter, but her mind was too afraid to even dare to hope it could be the case.
Angel slowly loosened his hold and turned her around to face him. With an awkward but endeared smile, he cupped Kat's face in his hands and wiped the tears that had finally rolled down her cheeks with his thumbs.
Kat slowly lifted her eyes to meet Angel's gaze and, this time, she read something in them… something that made her heart leap in her chest.
"Crown Prince Angel…"
Angel chuckled bashfully as he released her face and reached down to take her hands. For the first time, Kat was feeling that the crown prince had finally brought down the shield that always kept her from seeing through him.
"From the moment I became heir to the throne of Ruund, I have been trained to never show my emotions…" Angel started. "It is a prized quality for a king to be able to always present a strong front no matter the situation so the people can rely on his ability to make decisions that are not biased by his feelings. This is why the crown prince, more than any other young royal, is required to excel at that. But it can have the counter-effect of making it difficult for us to express our feelings in private…"
Kat was still not able to utter a single word. The scene playing before her was like a dream bubble slowly shaping itself into reality as Angel spoke; a bubble that she was afraid to burst if she dared to make a sound.
So it was in a bit of a daze that Kat read on Angel's lips more than she actually heard him say: "I love you, Changadim Kat."
Then Angel, still holding her hands, slowly went down on one bent knee. "It might be very difficult for me to tell you this as much as I should, but I will always find a way to show that to you…
"Changadim Kat Sama, will you be my princess?"

“Wait a minute… it’s a joke, right? It has to be a joke!”

Even after gulping down two full glasses of water straight, Kat was still feeling a bit dizzy. Her mind was racing while trying to fully process the information her brain had just registered…

Kat has always lived a simple life, surrounded by her loving mother and siblings. But now, in an unexpected twist of fate, she is faced with the possibility of leaving her beloved home forever.

She does not want to yield. Even if he is the crown prince of Ruund. But is still compelled by her grandfather’s oath; the honour of her family is also at stake…



Hello there! This is the author.
This novel work is not a fan-fiction but a remake of the drama series 'Princess Hours'.
It might not be my first novel work but it my biggest one so far.
There will be no locked chapters. I hope you will enjoy this story just as much as or even more than I did while writing it.

The porch of Kim Insoo's house was was slightly larger than Suhyuk's room. No, it looked even bigger, more than twice its size. This was only the beginning. The huge glass windows occupying one wall in the spacious living room displayed a cool scenery off the outside. While Suhyuk was looking around with a strange gaze, Kim Insoo's mother came over with a smile. Jewels and accessories shaking around her body unusually.

"It's been a long time since I last saw you. Are you ok now?" she asked.

'Even she knows me?' he thought to himself. Suhyuk showed a smile just like her's.

"Yes, thank you for your concern."

"Yes, I was so worried about you. I'm so glad you're okay."

"We're going to study now," Insoo said.

However, she added one last word, "Suhyuk, do me a favor once again. Please teach Insoo well."

At a glance, Insoo was from a rich family. 'Then, why is he trying to learn from me instead of going to a private academy or getting a private tutor?'

"Let's go to the room," said Insoo.

Among many rooms in his house, he pulled out the door knocker of the room located at the far end.

When the door was opened, there was a room that could rightly be called as a study. The bookshelf, filled with the books, was tall enough to reach the ceiling. And there was a luxurious table in the middle.

"Come on in!"

"You came to the right place," said his friends.

Choi Inbae touching his horn-rimmed glasses, and Kim Donghyuk making a strange smile were standing there. They welcomed Suhyuk.

"Your seat is over there," said Insoo.

Suhyuk went to take his seat by a square rectangular table. Inbae and Donghyuk sat on both sides of the table while Suhyuk sat on their opposite. Obviously Suhyuk was given an upper seat.

When Suhyuk felt uncomfortable at the seat placement, they just giggled.

"It was your seat, and it was also your favorite seat."

Suhyuk, nodding slowly, took out the books from his bag and put them on the table.

'Now, show me the surprise you guys have prepared for me. Things will be different from the past.'

"Suhyuk, if you do not know anything, ask us. You might not recall much of what you learned as you lost memory."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Our grades went up a lot thanks to your help. Insoo came out at the top in the entire school."

Originally, it was Suhyuk who came at the top in his school. For some reason, when Suhyuk became a junior, Insoo came out at the top, while Donghyuk and Inbase came in 2nd and 3rd respectively. Besides, Suhyuk's grade fell down like a steep downhill. He was placed 4th in his class, and 20th in his school. The current Suhyuk could not know that.

"Well, as all the members are here, let's get down to work!"

As soon as Donghyeok said that, their study began. The surroundings were very quiet, except when they turned over books and moved their sharp pencils. That was the only sound. 'These guys are really serious about studying?' Suhyuk thought to himself.

They were concentrating, with their eyes fixed on their books.

Suhyuk felt stuffy. He could feel their studying atmosphere, but their real motivation was invisible as if it were obscured by black fog.

After watching them silently, Suhyuk finally opened his mouth,

"I'm sorry to interrupt you guys as you're fully focused, but can I ask you a few questions?"

Their eyes were fixed on Suhyuk.

"Did you notice a problem you do not understand?"

"Please ask any questions."

"Thank you. Don't get me wrong about what I have to say from now on."

Suhyuk, who caught his breath tightly, spoke again.

"Have you ever harassed me?"

At that moment, their faces suddenly stiffened, with a deeply distrustful look. But their hostile look lasted a very short time, so Suhyuk did not notice it.

"What is it? Don't talk rot!"

"Did you have a dream? How could we do that to you?"

'Were they intent to do their mischief to me to the end, not caring at all what they had done to me in the past?' His diary was full of curses he hurled about them. Did he do it even when he was not harassed by them? He could not understand.

"I just want to know for sure what our relationship was like," Suhyuk said.

Inbae, touching his glasses, said, "I think you seem to be confused, but that's understandable as you had amnesia. We've been friends since we're freshmen in the same middle school. And this meeting came about thanks to your idea. As the top student in the whole school, you taught us how to study. Private academy tutoring? Actually, you taught us better than they did, and your teaching method was much more interesting too. Did we feel like that because we're the same age? Anyway, thanks to your help, our grades went up, and we are very much grateful to you."

They all nodded, seeing eye to eye to Inbae's remarks. Anyhow, it was true that they appreciated his help because their grades went up.

"Now, how could we harass you? That's nonsense!"

He could read some sort of sincerity on their facial expressions.

Should he believe all their words?

"I'm sorry, but I cannot believe you, to be honest."

Were they hurt by Suhyuk's response? Or did they give up being patient with him any longer? Insoo stood up from his seat. He looked at Suhyuk coldly. In a hostile mood as if he wanted to throw a punch at him, he slowly turned around the table to approach Suhyuk.

Surrounded by books, the study had an eerie atmosphere where a man could be killed without uttering even one word.

Suhyuk, with eyes fixed firmly on Insoo's face, was putting his head to work to prepare for any contingent situation. This is how long it takes for visual information to be delivered to the brain: first through the cornea, then the lens, vitreous body, retina, and finally through the visual nerve will the visual information be transmitted to the brain.

To make a judgement adding all this up together, it takes only about 0.2 second for the body to react immediately. Can Suhyuk escape his fist? It does not matter if he cannot.

Suhyuk grabbed his chair firmly by turning his hand backward while sitting. Bold enough. He was intent to use the chair as a blunt weapon just in case. 'Let me pay back the pain twice as much as a silly Suhyuk of the past suffered from you.'

"What makes you get stiff like that?"

Wearing a relaxed look, Insoo approached Suhyuk instantly and patted him on the shoulder. Then he picked one of several cups next to him and poured tea from a tumbler. Steam began to roll up from the tea cup, and its delicate fragrance smelled superb.

"I hope that your memory will come back quickly, so that your misunderstanding can clear up," he said. Insoo gave tea to Suhyuk.

"Well, drink it, and you'll feel better. You used to like it."

"Thanks," Suhyuk said, taking his cup to his lips.

Did he really misunderstand? Should he give up his existing perceptions about them and take a different approach? When Suhyuk took a sip of tea and put down the cup, Insoo opened his mouth,

"Suhyuk, what does retributive justice mean? Suddenly I can't understand what it means." Kim Insoo showed a eerie smile.

.......................….....….....….....….....….....….....…..

After returning home from studying, Suhyuk lay in bed. He felt dizzy and languid, in body and soul. If he closed his eyes, he felt like he would just fall asleep instantly. Looking at the fluorescent lamp, his eyes slowly closed.

"What the hell…."

He could not find any malice from the study group members. Not only from them, but also from his other classmates. It seemed as if his thoughts were in a muddle and sucked into a black hole. Suhyuk fell into sleep.

.......................….....….....….....….....….....….....…..

At that very moment he woke up from his bed. He opened the desk drawer and took out the diary. He was determined to peruse it again. At that moment, something shiny in the disturbed drawer caught Suhyuk's eye. It was a paper-bundle of medicine. 'What is this?' It was something he had not found before. Suhyuk brought his hand to the medicine.

At that very moment, his head throbbed painfully, conjuring up a certain scene from the past: He smashed pills into powder, and poured it into a tumbler with a smile. 'How dare you bastards beat me in grades? You bastards never returning my favor! The first place in the class is mine!' <Drink this. They say it will help you memorize things better> <Thank you, Suhyuk. You're the one we can turn to. >

Remnants of memories kept passing through Suhyuk's head. He was completing the pieces of the puzzle little by little: 'As I teach you like this, you have got to return my favor with this kind of gift at the least.' An image appears of him slipping an earring into his pocket at Insoo's house. 'Why! Why does my grade keep going down? Why! Why! I really did work very hard! But why am I lagging behind those stupid little guys? Yes, taking classes at a private academy is not enough. I have to get a private tutor like them. If I get an expensive tutor, my grades will rise quickly.' <Mom, get me a tutor> Mom sighs deeply …

Suhyuk's expressions stiffened after recalling the memories that passed like a light.

"Oh my god, I must have been a crazy little b*tch back then..."

The golden hour where one can save a life.

Golden Time.

 -----

Revised Synopsis :

Golden time is a Korean Medical Drama/ Reincarnation Novel. The novel is short and progresses quickly as the main character is sent back in time to his teenage years when he got into a severe accident. Causing him to lose most of his memories and even trapping him in a coma for three months. The main character wakes up 3 months later where the only memory remaining in his head are his medical knowledge and his name.

A story about the life of a young teenage boy growing up as he strives to save as many lives as he can and becoming the greatest doctor in the world.

Golden Time, a moment in which a life can be saved!

**A licensed novel from Munpia**

Fang Zhao was still frowning, so Chu Guang turned on his bracelet screen and switched to draw mode.
"To put it in simple terms…"
Chu Guang drew two circles on his screen and connected them with a straight line. He pointed to the circle on the left. "Let’s say this is the tough guy type." Then he gestured to the circle on the right. "This is the pansy type."
Fang Zhao nodded.
Chu Guang drew a third circle in the middle of the line. "This is the hybrid. During the Reg Era, most virtual idols were centrists or center-left. Even if right-leaning idols existed, they were a minority. But after the Reg Era, virtual idols veered to the right. That’s why my uncle made that comment. Even though he was exaggerating and things aren’t that bad, the overall data supports this trend."
Fang Zhao understood. He had read about the transformation of virtual idols in his research as well. To compete with real idols, virtual idols had to reinvent themselves—and their evolution did indeed lean toward the right of the spectrum as Chu Guang had said.
Chu Guang turned off his bracelet screen. "This is a visual era. Standards of beauty shift from generation to generation. The top idols during the Reg Era may not be successful if they were transplanted to today. You can see traces of the classic idols from the Reg Era in today’s virtual idols, but they have been tailored to current aesthetic standards so they can better fit prevailing visual preferences. Just like our styles as composers will evolve over our lifetimes."
"A businessman once said, ‘The market is always right. If you can’t fit in, then the problem lies with you. You must change with the times and not fight the market.’"
Fang Zhao still looked puzzled, so Chu Guang offered up more consolation. "But you don’t have to take these things too seriously. You’re a composer, not a professional virtual idol producer. Plus, Silver Wing doesn’t really care about the virtual idol project. Just base your design on the company’s previous virtual idols and wrap up the project soon. Composing is your priority. We’ll be waiting for you on the charts."
There were many more charts beyond the New Pioneers Chart. The New Pioneers Chart was only a starter chart. They had many other charts to climb.
After leaving campus, Chu Guang drove away in his flying car. Fang Zhao boarded his train too. He had to switch trains once to get to his black street.
When Fang Zhao got home, it was already 4 p.m. The black street was still dark.
Curly Hair sensed Fang Zhao’s arrival and was waiting by the door. When Fang Zhao entered, it whimpered and wagged its tail vigorously.
Fang Zhao scanned his apartment. Nothing was broken. He fondled the dog on the head and poured food onto its plate.
He had just set down his briefcase and barely finished a glass of water when his bracelet indicated a call.
Fang Zhao raised his eyebrows when he saw the caller ID.
When he answered, Fang Sheng’s face appeared.
After being crowded out by Fang Zhao on the New Pioneers Chart, Fang Sheng’s stock at Neon Culture had no doubt suffered, even though it hadn’t completely tanked.
It was their first contact in some time. Fang Sheng looked less obnoxious. His horrible pallor, puffy eyes. and the dark green circles surrounding them suggested he was in bad shape. It had been a while since he'd last slept well.
"You cunning bastard." Fang Sheng gritted his teeth.
"Why, thank you." Fang Zhao was oblivious to the anger in his tone. Did thieves have the right to be angry?
"You must be delighted to have pulled a fast one on me, eh?" Fang Sheng was convinced that Fang Zhao had held back a song from him as a precaution. Otherwise, where did the "hehe" song come from? He never knew about it when they were close.
You couldn’t blame Fang Sheng for his suspicions. Yet a diary entry written during heartbreak was very private. Unless Fang Zhao completed the piece, he would have never shown it to anyone, even Fang Sheng, whom he considered a close friend back then.
Fang Zhao ignored the question. He put down his glass and stared at Fang Sheng. "You think this is over?"
Fang Sheng was going to make fun of Fang Zhao for being stuck with the virtual idol project at Silver Wing. Instead, he was caught off guard by Fang Zhao’s response. "What do you mean?"
"Just wait and see."
Wait for what?
What did Fang Zhao have up his sleeve?
Could Fang Zhao have held back other songs?
"What do you mean, Fang Zhao? Be straight with me."
Fang Zhao hung up, shunning the panicked Fang Sheng.
He walked to the corner where he composed and pulled open the drawer where the original owner of his body kept his diary. He added the medal he'd received today at graduation from Yanzhou Music Association for his fifth-place finish in the new talent contest.
Even though Fang Zhao arranged the song, his body’s original owner was the composer. He deserved the credit.
"I’ll take care of the rest."
Now that he had graduated, Fang Zhao didn’t need to go to campus anymore. It was also summer break, and the next virtual idol course didn’t start until September. It was only early July. That was more than a month away.
Fang Zhao had to draft a project proposal in the next month; otherwise, he would be too busy to sit in on the virtual idol class come the new semester.
Recruiting a team could wait. First, Fang Zhao had to decide on the look of his virtual idol.
Fang Zhao understood everything Chu Guang had said, but he was an old relic parachuted into the present time, after all. He was still absorbing.
Why not retain the core of past virtual idols and repackage it?
Virtual idols had an edge in that they didn’t have to be human. There was a huge market for the fairies and demons that ruled the Reg Era and furry, cute pet animals. Some of the classics lasted several generations. Different styles catered to different demographics.
The market.
How do you cater to the market?
But the market was a mystery. No one had an absolute answer.
Fang Zhao was still struggling the next day.
When he was having breakfast in the morning, Fang Zhao noticed the paper notebook sticking out of his briefcase. He used it to take notes when he was doing research in his office. Eventually, there had been too much information to jot down, so he'd started scanning pages with his bracelet instead.
But among the few lines in the notebook was a quote that stuck with him. Something the father of virtual idols, Reg Smith, had said: "I worship only what I create."
Composing was a form of creativity.
Even an artist trapped in a cage was free at heart.
"I worship only what I create."
Fang Zhao repeated the quote again in a low voice and laughed. He opened the notebook and started drawing with a pen.
No one knew that the core of this body had endured the end of days. Fang Zhao couldn’t shed his experiences from his soul.
Instead of second-guessing all the time, why not give yourself free rein?
Time passed and light started seeping through the windows. The noon sun was about to arrive.
Dressed in a wife-beater and baggy boxers, Yue Qing dragged a chair to his storefront for his daily tan. He was surprised that Fang Zhao hadn’t showed up yet.
"Did the kid head out?" Ai Wan stopped by to ask.
"I dunno. Didn’t see him this morning." Yue Qing scanned Fang Zhao’s window, which was open.
"He hasn’t left. The kid’s still in," Yue Qing confirmed.
"That’s odd. Very unusual." Ai Wan shook his head. Out of occupational habit, he had studied Fang Zhao for days. There was something off about him. He was a bit guarded. Maybe all artists were like that.
Inside the apartment, Curly Hair had just finished his breakfast and was resting quietly. Its droopy ears occasionally shifted in sync with the hustle and bustle outside.
The noon sunlight and the noise didn’t affect Fang Zhao’s concentration at all.


"Every time background music plays in my head, I feel like there is nothing to be afraid of." —Fang Zhao
Toward the end of the apocalyptic period, Fang Zhao lost his life. However, instead of dying, he found himself 500 years later in the body of a young and aspiring composer who shared the same name. Having received a second chance at life, Fang Zhao sets out to achieve the previous owner's dreams.
Armed with the experience of living through an apocalyptic age and his profession as a composer before that period, Fang Zhao uses his talent, wits, and knowledge to make his mark in the entertainment industry of the future.

The mysterious leader of the Twilight Hermit Order enjoys sitting there, silently watching everyone converse. Once "He" wishes for something to be done, the matter can very quickly reach a consensus… This really matches the characteristics of the Spectator pathway… I'm increasingly convinced that "He" is Amon's brother, the other son of the Creator, Adam… In his later years, the emperor learned plenty of secrets from Mr. Door and was probably able to come up with similar conclusions… As Klein compared the descriptions in the diary with what he already knew to come up with theories and verify them, he cast his gaze down to read the rest of the content of the page.
"11th March. The more I recall what happened yesterday, the more afraid I am. A demigod existence had his fate decided with just a few words. He didn't even have the chance to express his disapproval. And the makeup of the ancient secret organization convinces me that, apart from dealing with the seven orthodox Churches, there is nothing that they can't do. Even the toppling of a nation isn't impossible.
"How lucky I am to be pulled into this organization; otherwise, who knows if I might one day suffer an unexpected assassination I cannot resist. I'll die with my eyes wide open!!
"This kind of organization that hides behind the scenes, secretly passing judgment on others, while determining the life and death of the target is really unacceptable. Even if I'm one of their members, I'm still appalled and feel fear deep down.
"This world is so much more dangerous than Earth. Perhaps just being born with relatively high spirituality, randomly flipping through an ancient tome, sitting normally on a ship doing business, taking in the beauty of some lady, entering some castle because of one's love of traveling, being woken up by fighting next door in the middle of the night, or creating something that's of meaning, these would be enough to cause one to die a baffling, tragic death!
"And this is one of the reasons that drive me to improve myself, to advance myself to gain the ability to determine my own fate. I can definitely succeed. I'm the protagonist of this era, ha!"
"12th March. I feel there's a need to seek out some material regarding the Fourth Epoch, Third Epoch, and even the Second Epoch. The experience that came from joining that ancient secret organization tells me that there might be countless secrets hidden here, the kind that will influence the direction of an epoch.
"Unfortunately, such information is astonishingly rare. They're either kept by the Church, or they have been destroyed. I believe that I'm unlikely to gain much simply by relying on my subordinates. The best method is still to raise my Sequence. It will allow me to gain a higher status and greater power in the Church."
From this diary page, it's obvious that the emperor's act of establishing contact with Mr. Door had happened very long after he joined the Twilight Hermit Order. Perhaps he was already a High-Sequence Beyonder; otherwise, there was no way he could withstand Mr. Door's ravings… Compared to the emperor, it's so much easier for me to investigate history. I have his diary for the Fourth Epoch. There's the City of Silver for the Second Epoch. From time to time, I can even encounter the evil spirit that was formed by a King of Angels… Hmm, in the middle of his life, the emperor seems to tone down on his allusions of grandeur… Klein flipped to the second diary page with a relaxed attitude.
"18th May. I've been having nightmares recently. I dream of myself wearing ancient silver-gray armor and sitting beside a cliff. In front of me is silence, and there's a bottomless black fog beneath me. It was filled with corruption and evil. Merely looking at it was enough to influence me. Towards the end, my face grew complicated, jet-black patterns as I monitored the abyss. My skin turned hard and I had the feeling that sticky liquid was flowing across the surface of my body. My eyes completely lost their reason.
"It was a reflection of the Abyss. It was the reflection of the Abyss which I saw and attempted to enter last month!
"As this nightmare becomes more frequent, I realize that extreme thoughts are becoming a common occurrence for me. Occasionally, the anger from being beaten up might lead me to hoping to rip apart the limbs of my target. Also, dark red lumps are growing on my back. My body temperature is also gradually decreasing.
"Is this a form of corruption from the Abyss?
"I have to think of a way to confirm and resolve it!
"For the time being, I cannot get the Church's help; otherwise, I'll have to divulge the existence of the primitive island and the Abyss.
"Yes, I can find the priests and bishops of the Eternal Blazing Sun. They're more skilled at purification!"
"19th May. Through some connections, I received some secret treatment. My entire being felt a lot more relaxed. All the anomalies that happened to me have turned for the better.
"Amidst my joy, I also thought of a problem. I had only explored the periphery of the Abyss, without making contact with any high-level Devils. I even had an object on the Black King that could resist corruption; yet, I was affected without realizing it and even had signs of being corrupted. Those Criminal pathway Beyonders would make sacrifices to high-level Devils from time to time; the corruption they suffer must be even worse. Over time, it's probably untreatable, and they can only be cleansed—both body and aura.
"Likewise, High-Sequence Beyonders, especially angels, should be able to exert influence on Low- and Mid-Sequence Beyonders of the same pathway. And due to the difference in level, there are corresponding limitations on distance. When one becomes a true god, there's a high probability that they can "communicate" across the whole world and spirit world without any obstructions…
"This begs the question. Am I being influenced to a certain extent by the God of Craftsmanship, no—Should I say the God of Steam and Machinery? This is quite scary. It appears that only by becoming a demigod that I will be able to escape this influence?
"Thankfully, since the Fifth Epoch, there hasn't been any examples of true gods leaving the astral world to descend upon the land. Likewise, pathways without true gods do not have such severe problems."
"20th May. After a period of being dispirited, I've returned to the social scene!
"F*ck, those bastards have been secretly mocking me, saying that the reason for me not coming out recently has to do with me having too much fun and turning weak! Just because my dark eye circles are more obvious because of my nightmare-induced poor sleep quality?
"Hehe, I want to let them know what it means by the difference in one's talent!!"
I wonder what an angel's influence is like on a Low- or Mid-Sequence Beyonder… The transmission of ravings over great distances? Automatic characteristic attraction? Regardless of where it is, as long as one's honorific name is chanted, one will have the godhood to reply? When meeting each other, is it the direct acquisition and erosion of one's Beyonder characteristic? If all of this is possible, it's equivalent to a mini-deity… It's no wonder that angels in the Second Epoch are called subsidiary gods… Klein's thoughts raced as he flipped the page in his hand to read the last diary page.
"12th October. Edwards ran to me, telling me that one of his knights discovered a strange chapel. It might have to do with the faith before the Fourth Epoch.
"This piqued my interest as I immediately rushed to the tiny city by the name of Bayman."
"13th October. Bayman is a tiny town built on a mountain. The buildings all have protruded domes, just like a white straw hat. It's very special.
"Following the street, and covering several flights of stairs, I finally found the strange chapel. On the surface, it looked like an ordinary residence with nothing special about it. Only by entering would one discover the difference.
"There was only one priest here. He was a genial middle-aged man who wore a simple white robe. He had a pale gold beard that covered half his face. His light-colored eyes were clear like a child's.
"He claimed the place to be a temple of the Creator. Any creature from any species, any believer of any deity could enter.
"When I heard him mention this, it reminded me of a question I had. Apart from the seven orthodox deities, the other faiths are deemed as heretics. They are unable to openly build a cathedral other than that of the original Creator. However, there has never been any such Church coming into existence. Even cathedrals are extremely rare!
"In front of the chapel was a simple baldachin. In it was a man carrying a cross. This was likely the divine image of the so-called Creator.
"I sat in the front pew and idly chatted with the priest. He told me of many different stories.
"He said that when humans were first born, the ones that ruled the skies, land, and sea were all sorts of crazy, bloodthirsty monsters. They were said to be the origins of the later species: dragons, giants, and elves.
"These monsters freely indulged in their desires, occupying all kinds of places. It appeared that it wouldn't take long before they destroyed the entire world. At this moment, it was the Creator who had awoken. 'He' retrieved the special traits and powers that they had been blessed with, and he had bestowed it to the humans.
"After that, 'He" returned to his slumber, leaving behind a prophecy:
"When madness, cruelty, greed, indulgence, coldness, and bloodthirstiness drowns the land once again, 'He' would awaken and retrieve everything.
"As we spoke, the priest held the hanging cross by his chest and silently prayed.
"Such a myth is completely different from the Churches' canon. There are many interesting parts that are worth thinking about."
"15th October. I've been back in Trier for a day. Only then did I forget to ask the priest for his name!
"Forget it. There will still be a chance in the future. My sixth sense as a man tells me that I'll definitely head to that chapel again."
Isn't this the condensed version of the City of Silver's myth? Hmm, the period around the end of the Second Epoch and the beginning of the Third Epoch… That priest seems to know a lot. Perhaps, an organization that passes down such a myth over the generations know a lot… Klein's mind stirred as the diary pages in his hand vanished.
Then, he looked up at Ma'am Hermit.
"Go ahead."
Cattleya immediately bowed her head.
"Honorable Mr. Fool, what I wish to know is if the place that Emperor Roselle's mind and spirit calls home on that island or the depths of the cosmos?"
That island? That primitive island that caused Grimm to die and had left the emperor shocked? From the looks of it, the emperor treated the island with great importance towards the end of his life. Even Queen Mystic Bernadette noticed it…
What does deep in the cosmos mean? The astral world? Or some other planet? There are many things about the emperor that transcends his era, so he's suspected by his daughter to be an alien?
Although it's a little ridiculous, it adheres to logic. After all, research has proven that this is a planet. The Sun is a star, and apart from that is the endless universe, a galaxy with countless stars… How should I answer? I can't just tell her about transmigration. But it's not like I can't say anything… Klein pondered for a while before shaking his head with a smile.
"Neither of them."


With the rising tide of steam power and machinery, who can come close to being a Beyonder? Shrouded in the fog of history and darkness, who or what is the lurking evil that murmurs into our ears?

Waking up to be faced with a string of mysteries, Zhou Mingrui finds himself reincarnated as Klein Moretti in an alternate Victorian era world where he sees a world filled with machinery, cannons, dreadnoughts, airships, difference machines, as well as Potions, Divination, Hexes, Tarot Cards, Sealed Artifacts… 

The Light continues to shine but mystery has never gone far. Follow Klein as he finds himself entangled with the Churches of the world—both orthodox and unorthodox—while he slowly develops newfound powers thanks to the Beyonder potions.

Like the corresponding tarot card, The Fool, which is numbered 0—a number of unlimited potential—this is the legend of "The Fool."

The vast Mack Blue, an cosmo-ocean of the purest mana water, so pure that a drop of it shall invigorate the thirstiest of deserts with life, yet the mana ocean itself is barely teeming with life as only the most resilient of beings can truly call this place their home aside from the most ingenious of critters of course. Turbulent storms and the highest of waves crash and form in this chaotic yet orderly zone in the Chromatic Cosmos, known as the the 3rd Wonder and home to the Azure Order of the Baruch Holy Kingdom which floats atop the mana ocean. An archipelago linked and supported by numerous humongous chains made with mana deflecting properties that act as bridges undeterred by the fierce mana storms and what some fearless daredevil residents who surf these turbulent waters call the gnarliest of waves.

In the depths of the mana ocean, in the far corners of its deepest trenches lies a bubble dome surrounded by a blue array filled with ones and zeroes, inside is a picturesque garden with a small yet homey flat, a steaming hot spring fitted with dark red oak flooring, and a hammock tied to two coconut trees planted on a lot of smooth white sand creating a cozy getaway vibe. 

A mature, well endowed, gray-haired silver vixen gently floats on the hot spring as her shimmering gray hair wafts. Standing up carefully as she dries herself, a figure no man can resist, the Ts and the A sculpted by the finest perv-ahem artisan there is. This bombshell of an aunty, one where you'll ruin your friendship with your childhood bro for is none other than the Great Cartographer Lanmage, also know as the Chrome-Mapper although some men, women, and beings of various species and sexual preferences undoubtedly crowned her "The Teacher I wish who grounded me with a late night lesson".

Her great escapades are textbook examples of classic adventuring, inspiring everyone who hears of it with gusto. Her tales as far as countless millenia ago no doubt had served as guides for adventurers old and new. Right now the Chrome-Mapper is leisurely drying herself dainty droplets of water dripping down her mounds, sitting on a stone bench whilst gulping on a bottle of strawberry milk. She downs the drink as she licks off her luscious lips in a teasing manner, finishing her steamy and relaxing bath she then enters her flat with nothing on her as she is most comfortable naked in her own abode, who wouldn't be?

Inside her flat which consists of an open counter kitchen connected to the outdoor patio where the hot spring is located, going through the kitchen's counter would lead one to the living space where a fire place is centered around shelves of books, tomes, and all kinds if artifacts. Lanmage sat down black leather couch then she snapped her fingers, the fire place lit a pale yellow flame while the living space also lighted up with a mellow light as a book floated to her. She then grabbed the book as soon as she was able to reach for it mid air, snapped her fingers again, then a tray of freshly baked cookies, a crystal jug of milk, and a crystal glass flew from the kitchen then gently floating down on the table in front of her. With a serious expression she started to read the book while she ate a cookie.

The point of origin where the Olden Gods rest, the Progenitor of the Warmth with no color. Upon the death of the last heir, the next cycle would not begin until the birth of the Apathetic Executioner...

"Hmmm... according to this tome there is a ninth Flame and it doesn't have a color... based on the line regarding the heir's death it is awfully similar to the propagated truth ' the Eight Divines slew the Evil God known as the Untouchable flame ', and some ancient story books also refer to 'Him' as the Origin of Fire, ' The Flames of no distinction burn within the Kiln of the Profaned temple, it warms the Egg. ' has appeared in a lot of them, the Apathetic Executioner could be the egg..." she mused as she stopped reading and thought.

"The temples of the Eight divines is still searching for this so called 'Egg'. My discovery of Nil Pygmy was one that everyone thought to be the one, unfortunately the readings from flame detectors and multiple divinations had not come out positive. Drill Runners also did not find it even with their Seismic Vision. The plan to make it into an Arena to gather flames from each temple to rouse the Primordial flame was a simple and idiotic plan that came from one brute of an Archbishop from the Purple Mountain Shrine which to her surprise gained the approval of every temple justifying it as combat training for their acolytes that even our Azure Ash Graced Nun known for her distaste in such barbaric slog fest tacitly agreed to it."

"This plan is still on hold as all the temples and various factions are scouring the God corpse on the Red zone as well as using it for training grounds due to its abundance of ether. Nil Pigmy is being left alone but it's obvious that those Old monsters are eyeing it for its unique 'nothingness' though it was ruled that no one leave an observer there to keep each other's greed in check I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who left a marker on it."

Lanmage stood up then chugged the entire glass of milk as a drop trickled down her neckline, wiping it off she then went into her room and wore a parka. In the parka's pocket she fished out a blue eyeball. 

 What a boring place Nil Pygmy is... she thought as she went back to continue reading the ancient tome.


———


Nil Pygmy

Pablo was dazedly standing on the room, beneath him is a puddle of silver liquid viscous like a sauce, considering the shape of this cave, no, room... is this perhaps some kind of yolk or amniotic fluid? he thought. On the mirror like surface of the liquid a horned black skeleton with jaws clattering is reflected. He then tried to scoop the liquid even though his hands were bones as most of the time was an idiot, however the liquid actually was absorbed by his bony hands till nothing was left as he felt a warm sensation course throughout his skeletal frame which was weird since he knew skeletons shouldn't feel anything, but he was in an unknown space with laws unknown to him, he thought he needed to get a better understanding of his overall situation in order to proceed.

"This is really a new life, I'm somehow excited yet sorrow... I guess leaving my loved ones without any closure is really a depressing situation...

Haaahhh...I've become a halloween decoration... My voice also sounds out even though my jaws are only moving. That said... How the hell do I get out of this room?" He sighed and then scanned the room and saw books and shelves messed up. He gathered the books and read them one by one, he actually understood them as the text used was actually the alphabet and the numeric system he also wasn't bored as the topics within the first few books he skimmed through were about all sorts of magic, weapon and body martial arts, the history of this dimension, and other various information on this new life of his. 

He was reading them and was thoroughly entranced as he also began practicing what was written and illustrated on the various books and tomes. Time went on as he mastered many types of spells, moves, various technical information about crafting, alchemy, medicinal arts, and a diary of someone named Rivienne who seemed to be a cheerful young lady with an adventurous spirit until the latter parts of the diary depicted some sort of betrayal like in a reincarnation kind of novel where most of the time the MC gets betrayed by their closest loved one. He then stored the books and tomes by using a storage dimension spell he learned in one if the books.

He learned through the latter parts of Rivienne's diary that he was actually her son born through an unholy ritual, the unholiest in fact and was decided to be named Art long ago with her Lover named Myr who was simply known by many names but Rivienne affectionately called him Amyr. The circumstances of his birth were a sacrificial ritual consisting of a Demigoddess's soul and flesh, the summoning of the Spirits of Agony which is done by killing a million souls by torture and 'fermenting' them within the confines of a sealed dimension or can be strenuously collected within Void cracks but those are rare occurrences, and the remains of the supposed Father. It was hard to imagine that a sweet lady like Rivienne was able to all this but based on the diary entries he read it seemed plausible. 

The only way to break this space is through a massive explosion of negativity which was supposed to happen during his birth but that didn't happen, to his knowledge his 'birth' was awfully tranquil aside from the Spirits of Agony backing away from him then disintegrating. And besides, he was pessimistic but he wasn't that negative though he hated his life he also looked forward to things like games, takeout from the local Chinese place nearby his apartment, His rare visits to his family when he gets some time off, He wasn't a ball of dark feelings waiting to become a terrorist shooting up his workplace. He wanted to go back home to at least check on his family and apologize as well for abandoning his dreams and succumbing to apathy, sadly no spell, item, ritual, nor any place leads to going back to Earth.

"Ironic, I've always wanted something like this...
To be transferred to a place where magic and all sorts of powers are possible yet the first thought I had was to return home...
Nonetheless I will treasure this chance, my opportunity to become an awesome existence will never be wasted."

He went into an orthodox boxing stance then clenched bony fists as a faint red aura seeped out of his Skeletal frame "The Horned Fish Martial style is described as the best style for structure destruction as it focuses on a crescending combo in one point, hopefully this breaks this shell-like room." He thought.

"Huuuuuu" He breathed in.

"HAH!" A straight right

"HAAH!" Followed by a headbutt

"YAH! HUWAH! ORYA!" Followed by a series of fists and elbows he then paused and did a kicker pose not noticing the red aura fading out he kicked the point he had been attacking with all his might. 

*Crack* a small crack appeared on the area he had been attacking but what followed next was...

"YAAROOOOUCH!!!!!!" Pablo screamed in pain.

Well shit, who knew that Skeletons still hurt if they stubbed their toes? But to the Chromatic Cosmos, this was the first time they have heard of the cries of the Progenitor of Origin.

Hidden beneath the buried mountain ranges of Nil Pygmy, a sinister temple is erected upside down. A Skeleton tenderly caresses a small figure in its embrace. Nudging it lightly with its bony fingers, the figure opens its jaw and for the first time in the history of the Chromatic Cosmos...

the silent cries of the progenitor of origin rang throughout its domain.

On the day of Christmas Eve, Jin finally revealed what he had been doing. Those around him had been worried, but at the same time, they already suspected that he had to be preparing some grand Christmas event for his customers.
The thing was that he was not doing much for the customers at all. Oh okay, actually he did make a 'small' minor event for them. On Christmas Eve, he had released a special dungeon instance that cost 5 Yuan to enter, and it would only be available on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day.
It was a group dungeon instance fighting against Evil Santa. There was no story theme dungeon to it but just one major Boss battle. (With a few minions to kill as a warmup fight.)
It was the first of its kind Boss Raid type of instance with Evil Santa using such game like mechanics. His attacks had various but specific patterns which the cultivators would have to figure out. There were even different stages to this fight with him naturally changing forms once hitting a certain threshold.
Not only that, but it was also the first time that the Improved Half Mask would be officially introduced for that particular Boss Raid Instance. Jin needed more mass collection of data after tweaking it based on the individual data collected from the cultivators involved in the Plushie Special Challenge.
So, when they were fighting the Evil Santa, there was a visible HP bar for them to gauge its health, allowing the cultivators to play more aggressive. Not to mention, the System included health bars on each of the cultivators too, and that surprisingly increased the usage of chi regeneration potion more than usual.
Perhaps, with the aid of a meter, the cultivators were more worried about them dying. They could possibly be more conscious about their own well being, and whatever the case it might have been, Jin found this kind of feedback very interesting. "Perhaps, I can manipulate that reliance on health bars in future dungeon instances as well....and the sales of those potions too."
The Evil Santa Instance was just one of the many Boss Raid instances which Jin planned to create for the future. But right now, he needed to find out how much strain the dimensional instances could take in a small area as compared to a wide area raid instance.
Tentatively, it was designed as an eight cultivator raid, but in the future, he planned to increase the number of raid participants against a boss if he wished included more Dungeon and Boss mechanics.
As for the Evil Santa, his mechanics were not too complicated for the first form. Still, it was just an illusion, baiting the cultivators to use their most potent attacks, only for the Boss to ramp up its stats and attack patterns on the second form.
There was something distinctly different at the start of the second form. The Evil Santa would begin to use specific AOE attacks without any visual gaming cues for the cultivators to warn them. Instead, they had to rely on real visual cues in the surroundings or judge from his expressions etc.
It was way harder at first, but once a group finally figured that it was the visual cues from its expressions, they immediately posted their findings to the Pandamonium forum.
And it was a major hit.
For some reason, Mr Know-It-All hadn't been around ever since the inception of the Tree Mall, but that did not stop fellow cultivators (his disciples?) from creating a topic on it. Some even suggested that they should create something similar to a Wiki page to facilitate all their findings and Jin agreed to this.
He informed the masses that it would be on his to-do list for January which led to a plethora of likes on his message.
Other than that, the special instance was not without rewards. By defeating the Evil Santa (which no one had managed yet since most were stuck on the hardest second form) Jin would be releasing a cosmetic inscription not just for attire but for their weapons too!
Evil Santa Candy Swords or Candy Axes were the few examples and Jin informed them that those inscriptions would only be possible within his dimensional instances. Although the cultivators could try it in other dungeon supplier's instances, Jin could not guarantee a proper activation due to the state of his own special technology being used.
Other than that, the cultivators who participated in the Evil Santa Boss Raid would be rewarded a certain amount of Evil Santa Raid Points depending on the stage they were able to clear. For example, if a raid team were massacred by Evil Santa's second form, they would at least receive 10 Raid Points for defeating the first form.
Aside from that, Jin also purposely introduced specific achievements for that particular Boss Raid instance. For example, the most amount of damage would receive the Best Attacker Achievement for that particular instance run which would allow him to gain 2 extra Raid points. That way, everyone would be able to earn extra points while excelling in what they did best.
Because of the limited availability of the Evil Santa Instances, the diehard fans of the shop did not hesitate to stop by despite the busyness of the Christmas festival. Some praised Jin for keeping his shop open 24 hours even during the holidays, allowing them to enter anytime they desired for a dungeon.
In addition, the low price made it accessible for Students and Elderlies to try, and it was to the point that the Elders and students even manage to discover some Boss mechanics that most adult cultivators would not be able to find. Thus, Jin also made sure that the sharing of information on an open platform would be rewarded accordingly too.
At the same time, the dungeon supplier ensured that the rewards were not so huge that people purposely withheld such information. While understandably, some wished to withhold information in order to aim for the first clear, The System noted that that did not hinder the overall progress of cultivators at all.
And yes, those Raid Points could be redeemed at the Redemption counter store (Baby Pandas had Santa Hats now), and this time Jin intentionally made the rewards more multi purpose. Prizes included vouchers for various sorts such as food, weapons, armour and batches of chi regenerating potions waiting to be redeemed.
That was not all! Especially when special limited mini game parts that were listed too as part of the rewards in order to incite the collector spirit in the cultivators.
There was a limited edition Christmas booster card pack for redemption which had the chance of dropping a rare holographic card that could be used for collection purposes or for battle. Jin purposely put two versions in the same booster pack so that the cultivators could frame it up if they wanted. (Assuming they managed to get it.)
The collector version would not have any battle abilities stored within the card since there was no Pico-chip in it. (A Pico-chip was 100x smaller than a nanochip, and it could not be detected with the mere eye.)
At the same time this lead to him being notified about single incidents with people selling their card for real cash, which made Jin unsure if he should be proud that his products finally had enough popularity for scalpers to exist.
In any case, he was looking forward to his Pandawans or perhaps a new batch of cultivators to clear the Evil Santa Boss Raid Instance.
But if one believed that he had used up all the time holed up to prepare for that event for the cultivators, they were dead wrong. This was because there was an event that was way more important than earning money.
It was none other than a Grand Christmas Feast for all of his minions. (and of course, his bellators too.)


In a modern world where cultivators need a place to cultivate or vent their boredom, there are private businesses that set up instance dungeons with the aid of technology and cultivation magic to enable cultivators to train and commoners to experience the life of cultivation. They are called dungeon suppliers.

Xie Jin's one and only dream was to be a dungeon supplier and when his only relative passed away, the relative's inheritance gave him a plot of land and surprisingly, a 'System' Module which the relative had previously used. 

With the help of the system, Xie Jin decided to pursue his dream of becoming the number one dungeon supplier.

Glossary Page:
nodsglossary.wordpress.com


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Discord channel: https://tinyurl.com/pandawan

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A lot of time went by as Ves and Professor Ventag iterated on the Aurora Titan design. After the second prototype followed a third and a fourth prototype. Each subsequent tests revealed fewer flaws and inconsistencies. All the major flaws had been worked away, and most of the newer problems that popped up emerged in response to earlier solutions.
Along the way, Ves also adjusted the Aurora Titan's aesthetics in order to make it look more appealing. The mech's likeness began to look more like its namesake. It looked like a large and bulky titanic sculpture with a modest amount of muscle definition. The mech resembled an ancient marble statue, but Ves swapped the humanoid head with an exobeast head on a whim.
That last change perplexed Professor Ventag a bit.
"The Aurora Titan is very much a humanoid mech. Why would you change it to a dinosaur head, Ves?"
"Since every test pilot who interfaced with the prototypes describe that they feel like they are piloting an exobeast, why not play around with it?" Ves replied over the comm. "Both you and I know that appearances matter. A humanoid head is so ubiquitous that it doesn't convey any particular meaning. The lizard head on the other hand will make the Aurora Titan a much more interesting visual spectacle. It stands out even more from the crowd of standard humanoid space knight designs."
The professor still looked like he disapproved. "The Aurora Titan's intrusive aesthetic features are too bold and in your face. I know from your previous works that you have a flair for adding an artistic touch to your mech, but the muscle definition that you've added to the mech will increase the cost and demand more skill to make the armor plating. This complex-looking lizard head is much more troublesome to produce than a standard humanoid head."
"Only the gold label edition of the Aurora Titan will feature all of these frills." Ves retorted. "The extra care and attention put into the aesthetics of its top-shelf model will make buyers more happy with spending tens of millions more credits on what is essentially the same mech. I've also worked on simplifying the artistic elements on the bronze and silver label editions to make them more suitable for mass production. The crystal tech I incorporated in them is also weaker but simpler to reproduce."
The three-tiered mech model scheme of the LMC somewhat clashed with NORA Consolidated's own approach. While Ves favored an artistic touch if he could get away with it, Professor Ventag generally valued form over function. The Senior preferred to design simple and clean-looking designs that were easy to fabricate and easy to repair.
The two argued over this issue for a while but Ves held his ground despite going against the will of a Senior. Since the Aurora Titan was pretty much his brainchild, Ves eventually got his way.
The professor dismissively waved his hand. "Fine. I'll indulge you on this matter. I do have to admit that your art does look appealing in some sense. This will be a benefit to our marketing campaigns even if you don't plan on selling a large number of gold label mechs."
The gold label mechs often times became the public face for the lesser editions even though there weren't that many out there in the wild. This happened with the Blackbeaks and the Crystal Lords. Their rarity turned them into genuine collector's items in some circles.
Ves did take the liberty of adding one particular aesthetic feature to every edition of the Aurora Titan.
He first scoured through NORA Consolidated's expansive library of licenses but failed to find what he needed.
He then browsed the MTA's library of endless component licenses and found the perfect component the job.
The Rescue Particle Generator was a small and energy-efficient component that emitted long-lasting glowing particles. As its name suggested, it was meant to be employed as a signal flare for stranded mechs and shuttles who were waylaid in deep space.
Unlike the Festive Cloud Generator, it did not require a source of fluid to function. It worked on both on land and in space and only increased the energy consumption of the Aurora Titan by a negligible amount. It was also small and flexible in its employment.
Ves added the emitters of the Rescue Particle Generator on the rear of the Aurora Titan design. The particles emitted from this addition not only blended in with the glow emanating from the flight system, but they also left behind a persistent trail in space that looked fantastic when the Aurora Titan was on the move.
Of course, Ves took into account that not every outfit or mech pilot wanted to paint a glowing golden stripe of its passage through space. There was no reason for the mech to puff itself up during routine patrols.
Aside from deactivating the Rescue Particle Generator, owners could also opt to remove them entirely without affecting the structural integrity of the mech.
"Hopefully, not a lot of people will choose this option."
The best part about the Rescue Particle Generator was that its function was so useless in raising the functional battle performance of a mech that its license was dirt cheap. It hardly impacted his bank account at all to license it for ten years, though he did contemplate on licensing it on a perpetual basis instead.
"With the knowledge I possess, it shouldn't be impossible for me to design my own gadget one day." He judged.
A perpetual license was many times more expensive than a standard ten-year license. Ves figured that within this span of time, he would surely be able to come up with something that provided even more visual flair than a component meant simply to put up a colored light to attract rescue.
Perhaps distracting himself with these visual aspects may not be entirely to the benefit of the actual design. However, both his design philosophy and Qilanxo's spiritual fragment approved of his attempts to beautify the mech. It turned the Aurora Titan into a much more interesting mech that distinguished itself further from the concept of mechs as disposable commodities.
"A mech that costs 100 million credits or more to buy ought to represent more than function."
While Ves admitted that form over function or simplicity to the point of minimalism each had their good points, that was simply not his design style.
"Functionalism and minimalism devolves the identity of a mech into its base role to its extreme. The company brand matters plays a greater role in how the mech is seen that its individual merits."
Some mech companies built up a very strong brand name and reputation for quality. They published simple-looking mechs with a unified aesthetic design that all leaned towards simplicity. Their designs were also part of the same product family, so they worked particularly well with each other.
All of this resulted in a trend whereby some outfits fielded an entire force of uniform-looking mechs! Actually encountering such a mech force was quite a sight!
In general, most mech designers didn't bother all that much with the visual design of their mechs. The general trend of mechs was to treat them as functional war machines. Mech designers therefore tended to lean towards simplicity and leave aside any unnecessary visual elements that might negatively impact the performance of their mech designs.
Ves actively fought against this trend. Why couldn't mechs be art?
"Even if mech designers don't actively work on the aesthetics of their mechs, they are still engaging in art."
The most important factor to take into account to Ves was that mech design involved both art and science. In fact, the profession blended the two into an intermingled whole. The science part affected the parameters of the mech while the art part shaped people's perception of the mech.
Many people and even mech designers often underestimated the impact of perception to the performance of the mech. Ves believed that mech pilots would treat their mechs like crap if they looked like garbage. On the other hand, if their mechs looked classy and expensive, then the mech pilots would never treat them like crap!
While these were extreme examples, mechs that looked boring or generic would not arouse any specific feelings to the mech pilot. This was a wasted opportunity to shape their perception and therefore the way they treated their mechs.
"If mechs are bots, then their appearances don't matter. The AIs that control them won't perform any differently whether machine looks like a rust bucket or a sculpture come to life. Humans are different. They are ruled by logic as well as emotions. It's the latter that is the key."
Due to his design philosophy, Ves spent a lot of effort in trying to master the ability to shape people's moods and emotion.
"They say a picture is worth a thousand words."
The true meaning of this phrase was that a picture was a great means of indoctrinating an audience without resorting to overt means!
"To put it more bluntly, art brainwashes people!"
This was a crazy statement to make, but as a mech designer Ves constantly tried to find a way to shape the perception of his target audience to his product.
Every artist tried to convey meaning in their works. Even if Ves visited an art gallery and taped a nutrient pack onto a wall, this work would still qualify as art! While the idea of affixing a nutrient pack onto a wall sounded ridiculous, it nonetheless sent out a specific message that affected the thoughts, emotions and moods of its audience!
Therefore, Ves very much thought that mech designers who focused more on the science and engineering aspects of their designs missed some of the points about their profession. Design encompassed both function and form. The latter deserved at least some attention, if only to prime the opinion of the market without resorting to expensive marketing campaigns!
Still, Ves was very cognizant that he could take this particular quirk of his and turn it into an obsession. His preoccupation with visuals frankly distracted him from paying more attention on the basic functionality of the design. Because he was very much willing to sacrifice a bit of performance if it made his mech look better, his products would never reach their full potential in terms of performance!
"So what? With my current design ability, my mechs already perform well enough to keep up with competing products."
While Ves did care about about the performance of his mechs, he did not fixate on improving it at all costs. Mech designers such as the Skull Architect were so sensitive towards inefficiencies that they would keep themselves preoccupied for weeks or months just to find a way to solve a minor issue.
During his time with the Whalers, the Flagrant Vandals and Lydia's Swordmaidens, Ves made an important observation that shaped his perspective on mech design. While many people tended to nitpick over the technical specifications of a mech, hardly any mech pilot ever managed to reach the upper limit of what their machines were capable of! What a mech could do in theory and in practice were very different!
Again, the example of the Skull Architect came to mind. His mechs were such impressive high-performing machines that one would think that his products would dominate the battlefield. The reality was very much different, especially in a very poor environment like the frontier.
Only aberrantly-skilled mech pilots, expert candidates and expert pilots hit or surpassed the limits of their mechs. The overwhelming majority of mech pilots always performed significantly worse than the capabilities of their mechs implied.
Therefore, rather than wrack his brains on maximizing the theoretical performance of his mechs, Ves would rather attempt to increase the average performance of the mech pilots that used his products.
"This approach is central to my design philosophy."
Shaping opinions and brainwashing his mech pilots through a mix of spiritual and visual design were very underappreciated aspects in modern-day mech design.
Any product or work of art that involved some design aspects always conveyed a meaning.
Ves just recognized this fact and weaponized it in order to advance the goals set by his design philosophy.
"Let's not kid myself. The biggest reason why I bother so much with visual design is because it will help me sell more mechs!"


Humanity has conquered half the galaxy and the Age of Mechs reigns supreme!

Ves Larkinson lacked the genetic aptitude to become a famed mech pilot. Fighting against his fate, he studied mech design in order to express his love for mechs as a builder instead of a soldier.

When Ves graduated from college, he returned to a new but empty boutique. Left with a small, newly founded mech workshop that his father painstakingly built with a mountain of debt, Ves somehow needs to make ends meet with the bank breathing down his neck.

In the midst of his despair, he found salvation from another legacy his father had left.

"Welcome to the Mech Designer System. Please design your new mech."

--Join The Mech Touch's unofficial Discord server: https://discord.gg/APB5KCU

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