COTE : Backed By Black Technology System - Chapter 22 - : A Late-Night Visitor.

What does it feel like to find yourself inside the novel of an author you hated? How will you survive in a world that's filled with cliché? Well, something similar happened here.

Once there was an unpopular fantasy novel author. His life was pretty messed up—no, he made it messed up. And remember I said messed up, not sad.

Due to certain reasons, he ended up never having the life that an average teenage boy should have.

But soon he was freed from that life as he died due to a lovey-dovey couple. He was freed but he had regrets…after all, he didn’t make his life that way because he wanted to.

The things he did were the result of his condition and impulses.

It seems luck was on his side at that moment, seconds after he closed his eyes and died, those eyes opened again but this time they were gazing at a world different from his old one.

He got a second chance! Now he will live a new life, a life he wanted to live! This time he can live, grow old, and then die in a “normal” way! The way things should have happened in his former life.

Though it turns out he also had a good amount of bad luck on his side as well.

Later he found out that the world he reincarnated in was the same as the novel of an author he hated the most. The only person he never wanted to talk to again…he was reincarnated inside that very person’s novel.

This is his story! The story of the man who was known by the name “Zero” in his second life. The story of how he survived without plot armor in a world filled with cliché situations, only in the favor of the MC of that novel.

This is, Author’s Reincarnation in a Fantasy Setting!!

“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

……………………………………………………………

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In a land where no magic is present. A land where the strong make the rules and the weak have to obey. A land filled with alluring treasures and beauty, yet also filled with unforeseen danger. Three years ago, Xiao Yan, who had shown talents none had seen in decades, suddenly lost everything. His powers, his reputation, and his promise to his mother. What sorcery has caused him to lose all of his powers? And why has his fiancee suddenly shown up?

The future of the world and the direction of time possess infinite possibilities. Even the same event may lead to two completely opposite outcomes due to a millisecond deviation in completion time.

I have led the Evolutionary Deluge, causing species worldwide to evolve and creating a splendid era of warriors. I have also allowed the invasion of evil gods, bringing those indescribable ancient dominators to the mortal world, instantly corrupting the Earth with evil beings.

In the infinite space-time, there are a million possibilities. I have witnessed the divinization of machinery and have seen the revival of myths. Humans call me: The Creator of Everything, The Eternal Supreme God, The Cause of All Results, The Origin of Everything.

But.. I prefer to call myself a humble observer.