Prologue
[True_Sage:
Congrats on another one of your books winning a platform award.]
[System_Lord:
Thanks, Sage. Couldn't have done it without your help.
Your critiques really polished the rough edges.]
[True_Sage:
You give me too much credit.
You're the one who wrote over a million words. I just dropped a few words of comments.]
[System_Lord:
Not a few—more like ten thousand!]
[True_Sage:
Lol... was it that much? Time flies. Anyway, my point stands.]
[System_Lord:
Sage, seriously, you should write again.]
[True_Sage:
This again? We've been through this.
The platform doesn't think my work is commercially viable. The three stories I tried lacked the immediate hook today's readers want.]
[System_Lord:
Only because you refuse to follow trends. Throw in a System, an SSS-ranked cheat, and you'd get a contract.]
[True_Sage:
That's exactly why I won't.
Sure, I could fake it—hook readers with something flashy and phase it out later—but that's not the kind of story I want to tell. It'd feel like lying.]
[True_Sage:
Besides, even when I try to create a good cheat system, it either ends up over-engineered or half-baked. I shelve it every time.
I've accepted it. Writing just isn't for me.
These days, I'm content reading and helping others shine.]
[System_Lord:
Argh... I really want to read your work!
How about this; draft something and send it to me. I'll pitch it to the editors to let the readers decide.
You've got a big following as a reviewer — people would love to see what the True Sage can do.]
[Alert: System_Lord has left the chat.]
—
"This guy... He really doesn't take no for an answer."
In a sleek, high-rise apartment, a man in his thirties leaned back in an ergonomic chair. The soft glow from his ultra-wide monitor cast shadows over his handsome, contemplative face.
Online, he was known as True_Sage — a respected critic and reviewer on the online publishing platform.
Web novels had shaped his life. Since childhood, they were his refuge. He'd devoured everything from low-rated trash to platinum-ranked epics, eventually gaining the uncanny ability to predict entire story arcs from just a few chapters.
At one point, he believed he could write something better.
He tried. Three novels, all rejected. Not because they lacked quality, but because they lacked marketability. No quick hook. No OP cheats. Just clever characters and slow-burning plots. The editors said readers wouldn't wait.
So he gave up the dream.
Now he was a systems engineer at a top tech firm, with more money than he knew what to do with. Between his salary, investments, and lack of obligations, he could retire early and still live comfortably.
Writing was just a childhood dream… one best left behind.
Ding~
"Hm?"
A DM pinged from the forum. Only moderators could message him — System_Lord must have reached out to one.
"Heart_of_Pangea? Don't think I've seen this one before."
He clicked.
—
[Heart_of_Pangea:
You've helped many craft their stories. Will you now write your own?]
[Heart_of_Pangea:
Can you tell the tale of one who begins with nothing?]
—
True_Sage frowned. Unseen to him, a golden light flickered in his eyes as he typed without hesitation.
[True_Sage:
I know I can.]
[Heart_of_Pangea:
Would you give up everything to prove it?]
The golden light intensified. His rational mind quieted — buried under a surge of emotion.
[True_Sage:
If given the chance… yes.]
[Heart_of_Pangea:
Then the contract is sealed.]
—
Suddenly, the room tilted.
His screen shimmered, pulling him forward with a force that defied physics. His body felt weightless. Disoriented.
Just before everything went black, a final message flashed.
[Heart_of_Pangea:
True Sage... In a world teetering on the brink, rise as the Sage they need. May fortune guide you.]
And with that, he vanished.
***