Reincarnated as incubus: I didn't mean to seduce you!-Chapter 477 - 189: The Divine Favored Little Incubus? The Online Writer Chased by the Editor (10K)_5

The voice sounded somewhat familiar. Incubus, while enduring the intense pain, frowned and carefully sized up the newcomer.

As he watched, he shivered instinctively.

"Bo-Boss?" Incubus muttered softly.

"Call me Editor. Do you know how long you've stopped updating in this period?" The voice of the editor-in-chief carried no emotion. However, it was precisely this indifferent tone that sent a chill down Incubus' spine.

Damn... This game always weirdly gets too realistic in unnecessary places.

I'm doomed! Doomed! Doomed!

Why did my editor actually hunt me down inside the game?

Is it just because I took a bit longer leave recently?

Is it just because I agreed to start a new book with my editor but bailed at the last moment?

Is it just because I encouraged the newcomers in the editor's little group to start new books and then cut them off when they didn't do well?

Did he really have to create an account to enter the gate of the lower world and come after me, wielding a Nail Head Hammer?

Just as he was thinking of how to fool—oops—explain the mistakes he had made, Incubus, paralyzed from the sudden attack, saw a glint of ferocity flash in the editor's eyes. The Nail Head Hammer was raised high, looking like it was about to come down again.

Incubus instantly had an epiphany. He slid forward, clinging to the editor's leg, crying out loudly:

"Boss, Boss, don't do it! Don't do it! I've been writing diligently lately, I have proof, I have proof!"

Through his tears and snot, he kept wiping his face and trying to smear it on the editor's pants.

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The editor, who had been about to smash Incubus' head into his chest with the hammer, slowly halted the giant Nail Head Hammer above Incubus' head, seeming to signal him to continue.

Incubus sighed in relief and looked up at the editor ingratiatingly, saying:

"Boss, let's exchange contact info and add each other as friends. We can talk this over properly. Trust me, I've really been working hard recently!"

Seeing that the editor hadn't attacked again, he immediately sent a friend request to the editor.

Soon, as the friend request was accepted, he nervously began to explain how he had been writing in the game and spreading his novel manuscript to boost his professional level.

Honestly, Incubus was somewhat known to the editor. Most of his updates managed to achieve above-average results.

Occasionally, when he hit on a good topic, he could even skyrocket in one go.

If it weren't for this, the editor wouldn't have gone through the trouble of tracking him down in the game whenever he slacked off.

Did he think editors didn't need rest? Playing this game was meant to catch slacking authors like Incubus while relaxing.

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This way, he could both relax through gaming and effectively improve work performance. It was indeed a perfect plan...

But why, when the editor thought this way, did he feel a bit miserable about his rest time?

No way, absolutely no way!

He shook his head, shaking off the thoughts, then looked at Incubus with an almost icy expression and said:

"The manuscript, hand it over. Let me see how your new book is going."

Hearing the editor's voice, although still cold, at least somewhat softened, Incubus breathed a sigh of relief and cautiously handed over the part of the novel he had written in-game in the past six months to the editor.

He couldn't help but be curious, why was the editor so powerful? When that Nail Head Hammer came down, the sound of it cutting through the air almost made him think he was about to be sent back to the Resurrection Point.

Though he wasn't ultimately one-hit killed, he had been left with barely any health, which he found incredibly unscientific.

As if the professional level he had painstakingly upgraded was just a joke.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but look at the editor again.

The editor was seriously reviewing the manuscript. This was the first time Incubus had seen the editor's attitude while reviewing a manuscript in the game.

Honestly, this serious review attitude made the shameless Incubus suddenly feel a sense of inferiority.

Maybe writing so little each day really was too much slacking off.

This unbearable guilt filled his heart, making him want to open his writing software right now and type out ten thousand words… Thankfully, Incubus had strong willpower and suppressed the urge.

Indeed, the editor was a professional. The reviewing speed was incredibly fast, and he soon roughly went through the beginning of Incubus' manuscript.

He looked up, snorted, and said: "The first twenty thousand words are not bad. You've maintained your usual level. It seems you weren't entirely slacking in the game."

Hearing this, Incubus' nose crinkled, and he brazenly laughed, saying: