Synopsis

Be careful what you wish for.

That’s what they all say... But there was a half-second time limit... and worse, a word limit. Flustered, all I could say was, “Let me enter my novel.”

And guess what? I wrote five novels. A power fantasy, a slice of life story, a short love story, a reimagination of a historical event, and lastly, my alcohol-delivered brain-child,

—A story of tragedy and calamity, where I let my sadistic tendencies descend upon every character, every place, and every little specimen I deemed worthy enough to mention.

Which novel do you think I was placed into?

CAN YOU ******* GUESS? YOU CAN, RIGHT? DAMN IT ALL!

I will survive this even if I have to sacrifice the entire world. Gods? Superior Races? Unsolvable mysteries? I am the creator of them all.

They. Will. Cower.