It was Wednesday, July 22nd, 675, at 6:30 AM. Jia sat on her balcony, gazing calmly at the sky—a blend of black and the golden hues of sunrise.
A faint smile played on her lips, conveying a silent message: *Not much time left now; I'm about to learn what I need to know.* These simple thoughts came after a long period of patience and anticipation; tomorrow was the moment she had been waiting for.
She cradled a hot cup of coffee in both hands, smiling as she took a small sip. Then, exhaling deeply, she murmured in a quiet voice, "Alright, alright... just a few more hours, I suppose. It's going to be so much fun."
She took another sip while watching the sun rise, illuminating the world and spreading warmth through the air, signaling the start of the second day of the summer festival.
Rising from her seat, she changed her clothes, intending to stroll through the city of Berhais and soak up the festive atmosphere.
A few minutes later, she left her room and headed toward the dining hall for a light bite before immersing herself in the celebrations taking place across Berhais.
On her way to the dining hall, Jia passed Yuta's bedroom. She was surprised to find the door sealed with multiple high-level barriers—seals powerful enough to prevent even someone of Yuta's strength from entering or leaving.
Intrigued and puzzled by the presence of these seals on Yuta's door, she attempted to open it; after all, several days had already passed. He was still in his room, which left her extremely puzzled.
However, Chloe stopped her before she could touch the doorknob, fixing her with a calm gaze that surprised Jiya; the last time she had seen Chloe, she had acted childishly, yet today she was composed.
This brought to mind the words of the Venerable Lotus Flower, Jihao Yuxuan: "Miss Jiya, please understand the situation regarding Chloe and Madeline. They are currently immature because the passage of time affected them physically rather than mentally. As Yuta said, they were created from a single word, so they need some time to mature."
"I believe the next three years will be enough for them to return to their former selves. Nevertheless, they are more dangerous than any entity you might encounter now or in the future—especially given the destruction currently plaguing this world alongside you." The Venerable Lotus Flower Jihao Yuxuan's tone had been calm.
She sighed, clearing her mind; the shift in Chloe's behavior was a sign that she was maturing over time. Whether this would prove good or bad, only the future would tell.
Chloe spoke calmly, moving her hand away from Jiya, who was looking back at her with a quiet yet clearly threatening gaze—a warning not to act bossily toward her.
"Yuto—or Jiya, whatever you prefer—entering the room of the Great Creator Yuta is currently forbidden. That is his order, and it applies to you as well. Since you obtained the Nameless Pavilion manuscript, getting close to him has become dangerous for you. Just continue on your way and pretend you heard nothing. Understood?" Jia kept gazing at her with an expression that blended outward calm with an involuntary, deep-seated fear—a dread of something lurking within that room, something capable of plunging their world into catastrophe.
She decided to heed Chloe's words; knowing Chloe to be a voice of wisdom and a figure of profound insight, it was impossible that she would speak so lightly without fully grasping the gravity of the situation.
Jia resolved to continue toward the dining hall, trying to dismiss the matter from her mind—convincing herself it was solely Yuta's problem and had nothing to do with her.
Meanwhile, Chloe watched her for a few moments before heading back to her own quarters, leaving behind Yuta's room—which had just seen its defensive wards reinforced manifold.
As Jia walked toward the dining hall, she suddenly stopped, her face a mask of astonishment and shock—or perhaps, more accurately, a moment of realization: "How did Chloe know I met 'Nameless' and obtained a training scroll specific to the Nameless Wing?"
She could find no logical explanation for the situation, yet it felt strangely simple. Deciding not to dwell on it, she resumed her walk to the dining hall.
Minutes later, she arrived, her expression composed as she tried to clear her mind of the earlier events. She took a seat and opened her resource inventory—something she hadn't checked since the day she met Nameless:
[25 × Legendary-Rank Energy Recovery Potion]
[12 × Legendary-Rank Refinement Pill]
[10 × Legendary-Rank Healing Potion]
[13 × Gu-Refining Scroll (Rank...)] 9
3x Rank 9 Enslavement Gu
14x Legendary-Rank "Shun Kung" Art Manual (100 Moves)
Rank ???? Primordial Creator's Phone
Rank ??? Nameless Wing Training Scroll
5x Rank ??? Fantasy World Demon Gem
Rank ??? Empress Xiao Yi's Robe [Message: "Author's Bailout"]
Jia kept staring at the last item on the list with a look of bewilderment—an expression her usual composure failed to mask.
The name of the tool was odd, yet strangely familiar: "Author's Bailout." It was a term used to describe an illogical victory or survival for a character—usually the protagonist or a main character—orchestrated by the author to save them during a confrontation with the story's villain.
She deduced that the item was related to something of that nature, though she wasn't entirely certain about its inclusion in her resource list.
She tapped the "Creator's Phone" to materialize it in her hand and turned it on. Finding her own photo as the wallpaper took her by surprise.
Shrugging off the oddity, she turned her attention to the audio recordings—one from today and others from the next three days—intending to test the timing intervals between them.
She began listening to the second recording, her gaze calm and focused, intent on catching every syllable from start to finish.
Boutaleb's voice rang out, heavy with conflicting emotions. It left her puzzled, eager to understand what he was going through to reach such a state.
[Today is February 27, 2027, at 2:45 PM. I'm in the Al-Ahyaa neighborhood of Bel-Abbes. I don't know exactly where I am, and I don't care anymore—why should I?
After all, I've been living on the streets for... well, I think it's been about a year since this whole mess started. I'm not even sure anymore when it actually began...] A curse.
I still feel like a fool for recording my voice; I see myself as a fool. But... but... *sigh*... I don't understand anything. I just want peace. I don't care what death would be like—but even death is something I cannot have.
Aaaaaaaah.I am absolutely furious. There are these damned entities—scoundrels—famous authors of dark, brutal novels. Yet, they chose *me*—just a nobody, a trivial fool living in a village so obscure that even if you searched for it on a map, you'd likely find a different name entirely. Meanwhile, those other writers bask in the wealth and fame gained from their trashy, filthy novels about ridiculous protagonists...
...heroes who spout nonsense with a cold, stoic expression or a smirk, believing friendship solves everything, all while being chased by six or seven girls with exaggerated figures—characters created solely to pander to an audience, satisfy perversion, or indulge the author's own fantasies of being that hero before they fall asleep.
It's disgusting—ugh. And in the end, *I'm* the one being held accountable—by the Creator of Hell itself—held accountable for writing that is shoddy, clichéd, and utterly cheap. *Haa... hooo...*
Alright, I feel a bit of relief... Who am I kidding? I hate this life; I hate it so much. When will this torment end? Please, let someone kill me—please. I just want to die.
Jia listened to Bou-Taleb's intense sobbing with an indescribable expression, then immediately played the second recording.
[Today is March 3, 2027, at 5:03 AM. I'm in a rather strange place, though I'm still in Algeria. The weather is beautiful...
...even though it's cold. Not that *I* feel the cold—I've just heard people say it's freezing and the temperature has dropped drastically.
Despite that, I feel nothing. Some white hairs have started to appear, and my left eye is gradually turning gray over time.] Recording these diary entries—even though they are videos—has started to feel natural to me. I no longer care if anyone else watches them; ultimately, I am the one who will be watching.
It's strange—who am I kidding? I'll probably watch them in an hour or two and just laugh at myself; I've always done that.
I've always somewhat preferred solitude and often disliked mingling with people. I don't quite know how to put it, but I feel a certain vitality—yet, at the same time, I sense a disaster brewing for me soon. Perhaps you'll hear me recount it. I think I'll title my story "I Am Inside My Novel"—or rather...
"I Am Inside My Life Story." A strange title, I know—story, novel, who cares? I'm the one living it, and you're just listening. Even if I seem like a fool, you aren't in my shoes; and even if you were, you wouldn't feel what I feel.
Jia kept listening to the audio recording in silence. When she exited the app, she noticed the title had changed from "Nameless Life" and "The Great Outcast" to "I Am Inside My Novel." It puzzled her, but she decided to ignore it for the time being.
She spoke in a calm tone, gazing at her phone: "From what I gather, all four recordings were made in quick succession—spaced about four days apart. It's a bit odd; I wonder if that was intentional."
She tried to return to the app, but a screen popped up that annoyed her slightly—though she didn't let it bother her too much.
[We ask the host to wait 5 to 6 hours before continuing to listen to the audio recordings.]
Jia then... She glanced at her equipment and supplies with a hint of mild annoyance, yet decided to eat the meal, which was still warm.
She realized that while listening to the recordings, she had become completely detached from her surroundings, having sensed nothing around her for the past few minutes.
Closing her crimson eyes and taking a deep breath, she finished her meal—a summer fruit salad accompanied by cold cow's milk.
Afterward, she rose and headed toward the city of Berhais to enjoy her time there until the following day.
Meanwhile, in Berhais, the "Star-Hunting Venerable" Zendaya and the "Last Domain Venerable" Ping Tao-Xin were strolling through the city districts.
They walked under the fearful gazes of the townspeople; the infamous reputations of Ping Tao-Xin and Zendaya had spread across the Five Continents—tales of how they toppled sects and clans, and how she devoured the talents of rising prodigies.
Yet, neither of them cared about the residents of Berhais; their minds were occupied solely by the upcoming Summer Festival celebration.
As they wandered, Zendaya spoke with a hint of mockery in her voice: "Last Domain Venerable Ping Tao-Xin, you are weaker than the 'Lotus Flower Venerable' Jihao Yuxuan and the 'Great Creation Venerable' Yutu—at least when Yutu inhabited his original body."
Ping Tao-Xin, the Last Domain Venerable, turned his gaze toward her... He remained calm, a faint smile still playing on his lips. "Just because I am weaker doesn't mean I won't win the battle. Victory isn't determined by brute strength or the size of an army; it comes down to spirit, determination, planning, and the resolve not to let trivialities derail the strategy. True strength lies in the mind, not the body—you empty-headed, helpless fool."
Zendaya, the Honored Star-Hunter, rolled her eyes in annoyance as she listened to him. He chuckled softly at her retort: "That's exactly what the weak say to justify their weakness."
Ping Tao-xin, the Honored Last Territory, paid no heed to his words, dismissing them as a ridiculous joke from an even more ridiculous person. He casually continued his stroll through the neighborhoods of Barhais City.
Zendaya, the Honored Star-Hunter, was similarly occupied, looking around in hopes of finding something interesting to buy; yet, even after two hours, she had found nothing.
Feeling somewhat frustrated, she glanced sideways at Ping Tao-xin, who had stopped at a shop selling curiosities.
He picked up a statuette of Daniel de Molière, wearing a faint, ominous smile, paid for it, and left the shop.
He returned to Zendaya after stowing the small statue in his dimensional storage, ignoring her puzzled look.
Speaking in a calm tone as they resumed their walk, he asked, "Have you heard of the Tree of the Five Severed Hero Heads—or perhaps you haven't, Honored Star-Hunter?" Zendaya
Zendaya did not understand his intention in bringing up that story, yet she decided to play along. "No, I've never heard that story."
Ping Tao-xin did not comment on Zendaya's reply; instead, he kept his gaze fixed on the image of Daniel de Molière, which was displayed near the entrance of one of the shops.
Then, glancing at Zendaya from time to time, he spoke in a calm tone: "The story goes that there were six individuals from different races—humans, elves, angels, orcs, barbarians, and dwarves..."
"They united to defeat the Demon King, and after battles that lasted ten"Years ago, during the final war between the five races and the demons, both the Hero and the Demon King perished—or so it was believed. Yet, the human Hero survived. He gathered the other five heroes beneath a colossal tree, only to decapitate them before the eyes of the shocked onlookers. He mounted their heads upon the tree's trunk before departing, announcing the deaths of the very people who knew him best."
Venerable Star-Hunter Zendaya looked puzzled; she sensed he was alluding to a specific person or event. Deciding not to dwell on it—as it mattered little to her whether the Hero was real or merely a tale of betrayal—she continued walking.
"A fine story, indeed. But what truly matters is this: what brought you to this novel? I've wanted to ask you that since we were on the Eastern Continent." Her tone held a mixture of mockery and skepticism.
The Final-Territory Venerable, Bing Tao Xin, flicked her forehead as he walked on. His words annoyed her: "The reason I came to this novel is none of your business. Mind your own affairs, Venerable Star-Hunter Zendaya."
She glared at him in clear annoyance before realizing the absurdity of her behavior; after all, he would never reveal his true objective or the reason for his arrival. Frustrated with herself for asking such a question, she slapped her own forehead, feeling foolish.
Bing Tao Xin chuckled, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, his expression shifting to one of calm as he gazed toward the Exalted Venerable. He turned his gaze toward the approaching figures: the Venerable Lotus Jihao Yuxuan and the Venerable Sky-Blessing Elizabeth.
He then looked back at the Venerable Star-Hunter Zendaya, only to find she had vanished the moment she realized the Venerable Sky-Blessing Elizabeth was present; rumors circulated that she intended to kill the latter—rumors that were merely a charade orchestrated by her and Yuta.
The Venerable Lotus Jihao Yuxuan laughed as he looked at the Venerable Final Board Ping Tao Xin—who was staring in mild astonishment at the spot where the Venerable Star-Hunter Zendaya had just been standing. "How are you, Venerable Final Board Ping Tao Xin? It seems you greatly enjoy terrorizing the inhabitants of Barhais City."
The Venerable Final Board Ping Tao Xin remained silent as he looked at him, then shifted his gaze toward the Venerable Sky-Blessing Elizabeth. She was wearing a faint smile that held a hint of annoyance, a look that made him feel somewhat tense.
The Venerable Final Board Ping Tao Xin replied calmly, "Yes, it seems my reputation in this world is quite poor. After all, I did wipe out dozens of powerful sects on the Eastern Continent—though, ultimately, this world is far too peaceful."
The Venerable Lotus Jihao Yuxuan paid no heed to his words, understanding exactly what he meant by "peaceful." For a Rank 4 Pavilion Master, one could do whatever one pleased in a world where the strongest entity was merely a Rank 2 Pavilion Master. However, the Venerable Lotus-Blossom Jiehao Yuxuan and the Venerable Sky-Blessing Elizabeth continued to stroll through the city of Berhais.
Elizabeth regarded him with a calm, unsmiling gaze, placing her hand briefly on his shoulder before continuing on her way.
Left utterly bewildered and realizing something was amiss, he turned his eyes toward the Casiral family estate; his expression shifted from puzzlement to one of absolute coldness.