On an unremarkable summer day, the sun blazed in the sky remarkably. It bore down from above like it was on a mission to melt steel, flesh, and bone alike. Heat waves shimmered in the air, twisting the edges of distant buildings. The faint smell of tar rose from the asphalt, baking under the relentless glare.
The sliding glass door of a convenience store whispered open with a tired hiss, and a man stepped out. A thin plastic bag dangled from one hand, crinkling faintly as it swung. Inside, a few ice creams clinked against each other, and in his other hand, he was already eating one. He was biting into it with short, satisfied snaps of his teeth.
The man was in his late twenties, plain white shirt plastered slightly to his back from sweat, loose blue pants, and a pair of slippers that slapped the pavament with each step.
His glasses had thick black frames, but the lenses were fogged faintly from the sudden step out of the cool air. His slicked-back hair was starting to lose its hold in the heat.
This was Arcurus Solmar though most knew him online as Peter Parker.
With a muttered click, he popped open a small collapsible umbrella, tilting it against the merciless sun.
"Man, the heat is gonna kill people this year… including me,"
He sighed. Even as he complained, there was the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his lips, like he was humoring himself.
Sweat crawled lazily down his temple, but his feet carried him toward his apartment building with a lightness in step. He was humming, not from any love for the weather, but because his latest project was finally out in the world.
A web novel. Six chapters already live. Early numbers were good. Good enough to give him hope. This one, he thought, could land him the elusive contract from the platform he published on. No, he was sure of it. It was flashy, dopamine-packed, and calculated to hook the short attention spans of modern readers. He'd already filed the application.
'Hehe~Let's you motherfucking editors how you reject this. Especially when I wrote it fir for your platform.'
The streets were unusually quiet. The only people walking were tucked under umbrellas like him, moving in unhurried shadows along the sun-baked sidewalks.
*Crrkk~Crrkk~*
Cicadas screamed distantly from unseen trees. Every so often a passing car broke the monotony with the hiss of tires over the hot road.
'Let's get the fuck away before the sun kills me'
A few turns later, he was at his apartment building. An old, concrete block squeezed into a narrow back alley. Despite the city's density, the building was packed with residents. Ten stories. His own unit was on the seventh floor.
Inside, the old security guard gave him the usual half-nod from his booth, eyes glazed from a day of nothing. Arcurus closed his umbrella, stepping down into the basement garage where the air was cooler but carried the tang of oil and metal.
The elevator waited empty. Most people were away on vacation. For him, travel was a luxury his writing income couldn't touch yet. But this book,this book could be the one to change that.
'I need to publish chapter 7 when I get back...'
The doors closed. He pressed "7," the elevator humming as it climbed. When the doors slid open, the seventh floor stretched out in the familiar layout. His unit was three doors to the right.
"Quick! Quick! Open stupid door. I need to get inside to cool~"
The key turned with a dry click. Inside, a narrow entryway lined with shoe racks funneled him into the living room. Small, neat, lived-in.
A balcony in the corner, a modest kitchen, one common bathroom, and two bedrooms,one for him, one sealed off as a cluttered storage space.
"Huff~. Sigh~. Home sweet home."
Arcurus felt finally alive again. Outside, he felt like his skin was burning even without the sunlight touching.
Arcurus walked into the kitchen and dumped the bag into the fridge. The ice cream he'd been eating was already gone by the time he got home. After washing his hands, he padded to his bedroom.
The room was tidy: a king-sized bed (too big for one person), a desk with his computer in the corner, bookshelves, medals in a glass case. The PC was already on.
"Oho~What is this~? Did those bastards finally recognised my talent?"
Arcurus said with a smug expression. He adjusted his glasses. A notification blinked on the publishing platform's dashboard. He was all smug because it was already a done deal to him. There was no way he was going to be rejected again.
He clicked on it. He read through it. And the more he did, the more his smug disappeared and got replaced with an eerie chill.
It was a rejection letter. The words blurred in his vision, but one line stood out:
The plot was not engaging enough and difficult to follow.
"What..."
He sat there, staring, mouth open. Minutes bled by, he was trying to comprehend the absurdity of the situation. His pulse ticked louder in his ears.
He couldn't understand it. Not engaging? Difficult to follow? The title alone told the reader exactly what it was about. Six chapters in, and he'd already packed in enough action to make most debut authors blush. The first chapter was an introduction. The second—bam—pure adrenaline.
His breathing grew sharp. The rejection phrases looped in his skull, breaking into staccato beats of rage. He couldn't comprehend how those editors couldn't find the plot engaging enough.
'... is this real?'
And then he snapped.
"YOU SMALL DICK BASTARD WHOSE BRAIN IS EVEN SMALLER! HOW THE FUCK IS THAT NOT ENGAGING ENOUGH?! JUST ONE CHAPTER OF INTRO AND THEN BOOM, ACTION! HOW THE FUCK IS THAT NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU PARASITES WHO DON'T EVEN DO THEIR JOB RIGHT IN PRETENCE OF VERY BUSY? FUCK YOU!! AND YOU REJECT ME IN FOUR DAYS INSTEAD OF THE USUAL WEEK?!"
His voice rose to a roar.
"AAAARRRR!! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE?!"
But he was not done yet. he bellowed, spit flying.
"YOU WORTHLESS FUCKING TRASH HEAP OF A PLATFORM! YOU CHURN OUT THE SAME RECYCLED DOGSHIT EVERY DAY AND HAVE THE BALLS TO TURN ME DOWN? GO FUCK YOURSELVES WITH A CHAINSAW, ASSHOLES! I HOPE YOUR SERVERS FRY, YOUR SITE CRASHES, AND EVERY HACK WRITER YOU PROP UP CHOKES ON THEIR OWN FUCKING MEDIOCRITY!"
He slammed his fist into the desk so hard the wood cracked. The chair screeched back and toppled, but he didn't care.
"AND YOU—YOU TALENTLESS SACK OF SHIT. COULDN'T WRITE YOUR WAY OUT OF A WET PAPER BAG, SO YOU HIDE BEHIND PRE-WRITTEN REJECTIONS? PATHETIC. I HOPE YOUR CAREER DIES SCREAMING IN THE GUTTER WHERE IT BELONGS. I HOPE YOU SPEND THE REST OF YOUR LIFE SUCKING OFF THE SAME WANNABE AUTHORS YOU SUCK UP TO NOW."
His eyes locked on the editor's name like a predator scenting blood. His voice dropped into a venomous screaming.
"And the universe? Don't think you're off the hook, you cosmic piece of shit. You've been fucking with me since day one—killed my dad slow, drove my mom to a rope, and left me clawing at scraps like some goddamn rat in a sewer. You like watching me fail? You like grinding me into the dirt?"[1]
His lip curled into a snarl, and he jabbed a finger at the ceiling.
"THEN FUCK YOU. FUCK YOUR STARS, FUCK YOUR PLANETS, FUCK EVERY LAW OF PHYSICS YOU EVER SHAT OUT. IF YOU'RE REAL, COME DOWN HERE AND DO SOMETHING, YOU OMNIPOTENT FRAUD! OR ARE YOU JUST A BIG EMPTY CUNT FLOATING IN SPACE?"
Then, out of nowhere...well, From the wall behind him came a muffled yell:
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU MOTHERFUCKER! WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS?!"
Arcurus froze for half a breath. That was the wrong voice, at the wrong time, in the wrong tone.
'Did that bastard curse at me? Does he even know what I'm going through!?'
He turned toward the wall, eyes bloodshot.
"YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU MOTHERFUCKER! DON'T MAKE ME COME THERE AND SHUT YOU THE FUCK UP FOREVER."
His voice was full of venom. The neighbor, as if expecting it barked back with double enthusiasm,
"DON'T MAKE ME GO THERE AND SHUT YOU THE FUCK UP FOREVER? DID YOU JUST SAY THAT, YOU SON OF A BITCH? COME IF YOU DARE!!"
The air between them felt like a wire pulled taut.
'Imma kill that cunt!'
Arcurus's face twisted with pure rage and hate. He didn't even think, he just moved. Storming into the storage room, he grabbed the first thing his hands touched. A solid, weighty bat. Then he yanked open his front door and crossed the hall in three long strides.
*BangBangBangBang~*
He slammed his fist against the neighbor's door.
"OPEN UP YOU MOTHERFUCKER!! LET'S SEE HIW YOI MAKE ME SHUT THE FUCK UP!! COME ON OPEN UP!! I'M HERE!!"
But no one opened for few seconds. And Arcurus didn't have the patience to wait. He foot to slam the door
*BANG~BANG~*
His boot met the doorframe in a thunderous thud.
When the door finally creaked open. The man inside filled the framea bulky shape, eyes burning. But before a single word could leave his mouth, Arcurus 's bat cut through the air in a blur.
"Hee!!"
The man jerked sideways, barely dodging. The wind from the swing brushed his cheek.
"I'm here you son you a bitch!! What are you gonna do!?
Arcurus pressed forward, grip tightening, bat whirling like a nunchaku. The man stumbled back into his apartment, hands raised instinctively. He'd seen fights but the look in Arcarus's eyes wasn't human frustration. It was feral and Unchecked.
"Hey, hey, hey—man, calm down! Look, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Calm down, will you?"
Arcurus stopped just short of smashing the man's face in.
*Huff~Huff~*
His chest heaved. Sweat slid down his jawline. He thrust the bat forward until it hovered an inch from the man's nose.
"You fucking piece of shit, you better stay fucking shut from now on. If I hear anything from you ever again, I'll bang that fucking door into oblivion and come obliterate you afterwards. You get that?"
He said, voice low and cutting, The man nodded vigorously.
Arcurus lowered the bat, turned, and stormed out as hehmphed. The door slammed with a loud band behind him, rattling in its frame.
Inside, the man named Jerob, slid down against the wall, gulping air.
"Shit!... I almost fucking died!! What was that lunatic!? How can he just storm in like that!?"
Jacob was shaking and sweating profusely. He may look strong, because he was a body builder, but the lawless city had already taught him the truth: appearances meant nothing here. Even a skinny nerd could be a beast if they'd decided consequences didn't matter.
Jerob had just learned that the hard way.
He moved in despite hearing the things about the city because the job opportunities were massive here. But he didn't expect to be literally destroyed by a nerd looking lunatic barely one month after moving in.
He thought that guy was normal, civil person.
"Mommy was right. Everyone in this city is a lunatic. I wanna go home..."
Jarob sobbed like a baby as he suddenly missed his mom and home. He decided to move then and there, he didn't want to be neighbours with a lunatic.
***
Arcurus moved back into his apartment, door slamming shut. He was exhausted and thirsty. He grabbed a glass of water and drank it. He felt his rage cool down a bit.
He went to his bedroom and slumped onto the bed. He threw the bad like a trash. He stared at the ceiling, his expression unreadable. He felt like nothing was working. He wanted to get out of this situation. But something always got out of expectation.
"Huu~ fuckers, I swear if I can get even one of you in front me right now. I will beat the shit out of you."
He cursed the editors again as exhaustion caught on and he slowly drifted to sleep. When he opened his eyes all he saw was endless white.
"Huh...?"
[1] Dude's an atheist. So cursing universe 8s the way...