After returning to their apartment, Voss immediately pulled out a pen and paper, eager to start writing. But after jotting down only a few words, he stopped, frowning.
"Hold on… I should look into how publishing works in this world first."
Tom and Jerry exchanged helpless glances. He had already been excited back at the internet café—what was he plotting now?
"I remember seeing some publishing house info online earlier. Let me check again." Voss flipped through the notes he had scribbled earlier.
Sure enough, in 2007, the American publishing industry was still dominated by traditional submissions. Authors were expected to prepare a synopsis and a few sample chapters, then mail them directly to editors. Online submissions existed, but they weren't yet common.
"That's a relief," Voss muttered with a sigh. "No need to waste time building websites. I'll just submit directly to a publisher."
But then another issue hit him.
"Will American readers even like cultivation novels?" He rubbed his forehead. "Things like qi refining, foundation building, golden cores, nascent souls—will any of that make sense here?"
From what he'd seen online, American readers leaned toward fantasy, sci-fi, and thrillers. But their idea of fantasy was Tolkien's elves or Harry Potter's wands—completely different from the sprawling Chinese-style cultivation sagas.
"If I write Battle Through the Heavens, will people just stare blankly when they read 'dou qi forming a horse'?" The more Voss thought about it, the more uneasy he became.
"What if nobody understands it? What if it flops?"
Jerry, sensing his frustration, padded over and patted Voss's leg as if to ask: What's wrong?
"I'm trying to figure out what kind of novel would work best," Voss explained. "Cultivation stories might be too foreign. I need a different angle."
He ran through the genres he'd read in his previous life. Xianxia and xuanhuan were risky—but there were other options.
"Rebirth. Transmigration!" Voss's eyes lit up. "That's simple, universal. Easy to follow. And I can mix it with American history."
The beauty of rebirth stories was that the concept didn't need much explaining: the protagonist dies or travels back in time and changes their fate with knowledge of the future. Readers everywhere could understand that.
"And they're so satisfying to read," he said with growing excitement. "The hero knows the stock market, knows which companies will rise and fall—how could readers not love that?"
Jerry scrambled up onto the desk to watch as Voss began scribbling title ideas.
The Civil War Breaks Out, and Lincoln Begs Me Three Times to Come Out of Retirement – a reborn protagonist helps Lincoln win the war with modern military knowledge.
Afghan War King Returns, Daughter Trapped on Lolita Island – a retired special forces soldier reborn, who discovers his daughter kidnapped and seeks revenge.
Starting with a Weapons System, I Became America's Biggest Arms Dealer – transmigrated to WWII, signing for futuristic weapons and building an empire.
Transmigrating to 9/11: Watch Me Save the Twin Towers – reborn in 2001, preventing the attack, becoming a national hero.
"Heh, these titles are eye-catching enough, right?" Voss grinned at his handiwork.
But then reality hit him. It was 2007. 9/11 had happened only six years ago. Writing about it might be too raw, too controversial.
"Forget that. Better stick to safer historical themes," he muttered, crossing out the Twin Towers idea.
Then, like lightning, inspiration struck.
"Wait—Captain America!"
Of course. In this Marvel world, Captain America was practically a household god. A soldier from WWII, frozen in ice for seventy years—his legend was the perfect backdrop.
"What if I write about a comrade who fought alongside him?" Voss felt his excitement soar.
He quickly scrawled a new title: Reborn in World War II: I Became Captain America's Comrade
Perfect. The protagonist transmigrates to 1942, becomes Steve Rogers' brother-in-arms, fights Hydra, and takes part in legendary battles. It combined history and superheroes, and it fed readers' craving for heroic fantasy.
"This is it!" Voss clenched his fist.
Tom and Jerry blinked at his sudden enthusiasm but seemed happy for him.
Voss began mapping out the plot:
The protagonist is a modern-day military enthusiast who suddenly wakes up in 1942 America. He discovers he's a mutant with super healing. Knowing Steve Rogers is about to become Captain America, he enlists in the army and soon becomes Steve's comrade.
He witnesses Steve's transformation into Captain America, then sacrifices his own rank to partner with him on secret missions against Red Skull and Hydra.
Along the way, he contributes future-tech ideas to Howard Stark, invents advanced weapons, and even plays wingman to push Steve and Peggy closer together.
And finally, in the climactic battle, the protagonist takes Steve's place on the exploding plane, sending it into the Arctic. Before his final act, he entrusts Steve with Peggy's happiness.
"Brotherhood, sacrifice, heroism—it's got everything!" Voss looked at the page crammed with notes, deeply satisfied.
And secretly, he had another motive: if the novel succeeded, maybe it could shift public opinion about mutants.
Just as he was lost in excitement, Tom tapped his arm and pointed at the clock.
"Whoa, it's already five!" Voss stood up. "Tom, you've got to get ready for the restaurant."
Tom nodded, slipping into his tuxedo. Work was work, after all.
"I'll tidy this up. Once your performance's done, I'll start writing for real tonight." Voss carefully stacked his pages.
Half an hour later, the three of them arrived at the Blue Danube restaurant again.
It was even busier than yesterday—many guests had come just to see the piano-playing cat.
"Mr. Tom! Welcome back!" Franz greeted warmly. "Several tables reserved just to hear you tonight!"
Tom puffed out his chest proudly, striding to the stage.
"Go on," Voss patted him. "Show them what you've got."
Tom, dressed sharp in his tux, took his place at the piano to thunderous applause.
"Is that really the cat?""Unbelievable!""I saw the video yesterday—had to see it in person!"
As the first notes of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata filled the room, silence fell. The music wrapped the restaurant in a spell, the audience hanging on every note.
In the corner, Voss watched, inspired. If Tom could play his part so brilliantly, then he had to do the same. He pulled out his pen and paper once more, whispering the opening lines of his novel:
"My name is John Smith, an ordinary military enthusiast. If someone told me I would transmigrate to America in 1942, become a mutant, and fight alongside Captain America, I would have called them insane…"