Jennifer is 40, tired, and ready for a quiet life—maybe some tea, maybe back pain management, and absolutely minimal drama. But one Sunday afternoon, her landlady asks, “Do you believe we are all products of someone else’s stories?”
Suddenly, every unfinished wish-fulfillment fantasy Jennifer ever published starts moving into her apartment building.
An 18-year-old stud of an alpha werewolf? Nah, his Alpha Dad is definitely hotter. A golden-haired prince on a white horse? Wth, in front of her street? And she distinctly remembers writing him a tsundere Duke of an Uncle.
Alpha werewolves needing pack management, princes dropping out of college, teen idols causing chaos, and sexy older men popping up everywhere… “Why are all of you here, and why are you so inconvenient?”
And most unexpectedly, her childhood friend—older, wiser, and back from abroad—wants to pick up where they left off decades ago. “I’m very sure I didn’t write you.”
Meta, messy, and absurdly funny—because what’s life without a little chaos?

Okay, wait. This was good news. She could just delete the whole of Chapter 5.


Oh. Wait… the chapter was still there. Along with a notice: "Connection errors due to temporary server overload. Please try again later."


"Connection errors due to temporary server overload. Please try again later."


Arghhh… But okay. Jennifer wasn't going to meltdown yet. She was made of sterner stuff.


She tried editing, but the same message popped up. She couldn't save any of the edits.


Then she tried writing a new chapter. Experimentally.


Let's see… maybe Quintin should find some money. This way, he could pay for his apartment here and at least not have to share a dorm room with his hometown bullies.


Quintin wiped his hands on his trousers, glancing at the small apartment that had suddenly begun to feel like a haven. He'd given the kind landlady the healing potion he'd picked up, but it hardly felt like a proper return of favor. Still… he liked it here. Simple, clean, quiet—friendly. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he belonged.


And then curiosity nudged him.The door next to his apartment had no number. Quintin frowned. He reached for it—and discovered a set of narrow stairs leading down into darkness. He tried to shut the door, but his phone slipped from his grasp, clattering down the steps.


Sighing, he squinted at the dim space below and spotted the little rectangle of light that was his phone. The switch! He found the light, flicked it on, and stepped cautiously down.


It looked like a storeroom. Old furniture, chairs stacked atop tables, most of it wrapped in yellowed plastic. That made sense—the apartments here were fully furnished after all.


He bent down to pick up his phone—and then froze. Something shiny gleamed beneath one of the tables.


Curiosity overrode caution. He crouched to pick up a metal plate. It was stuck to the floor. When his fingers pressed down on it, the floor shifted beneath his touch.


Jennifer grinned wickedly at the screen. Hahaha. Take that, reality! Let's see how this building grows a basement.


She knew for a fact that this building had no such thing.


And also—why stop at finding money? There could literally be anything behind that trapdoor.


And then she realized: I think my webnovels are coming true in real life… and that I can write new chapters to save the future.


She let her hands drop off the laptop. It slid to the side of the sofa. Her head fell back against the headrest.


"It's official. I'm bonkers. Absolutely—and brilliantly—bonkers."


Jennifer groaned. She should just sleep. It's been a long week.


Chapter 33 - Jennifer Tries to Save the World