Robert was bored.

His IT job was a literal dead end. He sat in a room and waited for stupid complaints, and once in a while refreshed the servers. His personal life was empty too. Due to his lack of friends and disinclination towards physical activity meant that he spent most of his time sitting in front of a computer, wishing he could just go home and play that newly released game - Breath of Honor.

He had clicked refresh a thousand times, he had read through the entirety of novelupdates, and right now, he was trolling this kid on the chat who thought slice of life genre was the greatest thing since, well, sliced bread.

What a moron.

He refreshed the page and ate another slice of pizza, and considered the methods he could use to relieve his boredom. Porn? No, not at the office. Games? No graphics card. What else?

As he munched on his fourth slice, an idea lighted up in his head.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

He could write a story. He thought it for a moment, and it seemed marvelous. Of course he could write a story. Dumb folks on the internet would read through anything nowadays. And it was writing, not anything tough. He had seen stories that seemed to be written by third graders on a sugar rush, and still climb through the best of charts.

He had found it unfair, of course. But what could he do?

He opened up another new tab, squeezing the other ones into a bare millimeter, opened Google Docs, and typed “New Story” in place of the Untitled Document. Then he waited for an idea.

Hah. Idea? He had enough of them. No, he needed to market this thing, make sure it attracted the RRL. Nothing overly romantic or literary. Something about a writer perhaps? No, too meta, and it seemed desperate. Best to go with the flow. What was popular? The chinese thing he wasn’t too good. No, the classic reincarnated being, who becomes a hero.

Yeah, that should work.

He typed down the immortal words, the beginning of his legendary words.

I was suddenly hit by a truck, and now I am reborn in a fantasy world.

He considered it for a moment, and then deleted it. Too precise, too lacking. Reading over hundreds of such stories had enlightened him about what could and could not work. This wouldn’t.

No, first of all, the man needed a backstory.

What should it be?