Prologue [#]
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If you don't seek trouble, it will find you.
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In a dark room, quiet as the stillness of the night, a laptop screen glowed dimly, illuminating the features of the boy whose fingers danced across the keyboard.
The boy's focused expression never left the screen as he typed furiously.
Emlyn hadn't done much, but in the end, everything played to his advantage.
Although he lost his job and sleeping place at the antique shop, what he gained in return was of higher value.
He now had a supporter, the resources to become stronger, and most importantly, a foothold in the capital.
Soon, he would be there—in Sabel, the Academy of New Mages.
Emlyn was excited, even euphoric, but he still had a whole year to go.
He had no intention of wasting the opportunity.
Closing his eyes, Emlyn looked at the silver moon in the dark sky. Slowly, a small smile crept across his lips.
'I deserve this,'
he murmured to himself before heading to the grand bed in his new room.
[End of Volume One]
The boy looked at his computer screen calmly, rereading what he had written multiple times before nodding quietly to himself.
'This is good.'
The boy saved what he had written so far and then opened the webpage to the site where he published his works.
He wasted no time and went straight to the author's dashboard to publish the last chapter of the first volume of his novel "Forever Unfinished."
The boy took a moment to think of a suitable title for the chapter.
But soon it became clear to him, and he began writing it down.
Chapter 88 - A New Life.
The title was a reflection of the transformation in the main character Emlyn's life.
Even the boy felt the title was fitting. He liked to call this feeling the writer's intuition, so he didn't hesitate to publish the chapter under that title.
Once again, he reviewed the chapter, but from the perspective of a reader on the platform.
And once again, he nodded to himself in satisfaction.
'This is good.'
.
.
.
With the boy closing his laptop, he took his phone. It was late at night, past three in the morning.
But before going to sleep, he spent some time on social media to catch up on the latest news from his favorite content creators.
But the news that everyone was talking about was regarding the volcanic eruption in Iceland.
A natural disaster had forced millions to take refuge outside their homes.
There were many aerial videos of the disaster circulating, but the boy just quickly skipped past them.
Generally, he felt numb and didn't want to empathize with anyone.
He knew it was wrong, but that was the nature of his world.
After some time of mindless scrolling, the boy put his phone aside and finally went to sleep, at last.
.
.
.
The boy opened his eyes wide, resisting the urge to close them again.
'A dream.'
He kept staring at the ceiling of his room for an indefinite period, lost in thought.
SIGH
With a lazy sigh, the boy reached out to grab his phone from under his pillow to check the time.
It was nine-thirty in the morning, his typical wake-up time that refused to change even if he slept late.
The second thing the boy checked on his phone was the status of his novel.
Forever Unfinished
- Total Views: 10,120
- Average Views: 115
- Followers: 14
- Likes: 6
- Ratings: 5
- Reviews: 1
"A review? And a new rating? "
The boy looked at his phone screen with excitement evident on his face.
He nervously tapped on the section dedicated to ratings and reviews. As soon as the page loaded, the familiar screen appeared before the boy.
His eyes, which had been filled with excitement moments before, widened in surprise.
"What? Why?"
he muttered as he looked in disbelief at his phone screen.
What was displayed on the screen were the number of ratings. There were five in total, just one more than yesterday.
But what shocked the boy was that the new rating, unlike the four previous ones that were five stars, was only two and a half stars.
"This can't be."
The boy felt his heart racing in his chest, generally because he felt wronged and targeted.
In his anger, he pressed on the rating, but nothing happened.
The platform where the boy published his novel did not allow the author to see who rated his works.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
So, he was unable to get an explanation for such a low rating.
"This will hurt the future of the story. New readers will feel hesitant to read when they see the low rating."
"What am I supposed to do?"
The boy thought of a solution, but nothing came to mind. The only thing he thought of was deleting the novel and republishing it.
But he felt hesitant.
He felt as if he would be betraying those who read his novel and the four who rated it five stars.
SIGH
The boy sighed in frustration and helplessness.
Just as he was about to exit the browser, he remembered the one review he received.
He had been so busy thinking about the negative rating that he forgot about the review.
"But what if the review itself is from the person who gave the rating?"
This was a significant possibility the boy did not deny, and it would greatly harm the future of his story.
"If that's the case, I have no other choice but to delete the novel and republish it."
He scrolled down to the bottom of the page where the single review was located.
Ironically, the review itself had a two-and-a-half-star rating.
"At least I get an explanation."
Despite the calmness of his words, the boy's heart was aching intensely from within.
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ASHEN OF ASHE
reviewed on 06/10/2026 03:55:01 AM
First Review / Do You Have What is Needed Mr Author?
Reviewed at Chapter 88 - New Life
Do You Have What is Needed Mr Author?
You see Mr Author, to write is to provide a new perspective. in any other case, I'll praise you for it. but not with this.
I appreciate you so far, but you still very very lacking... you're laking the thing i most need now Mr Author.
I wished you were the one, but you're not?.. maybe,.. maybe? Emlyn can do, but i myself failed... but no, i can't trust any one other than myself.
sorry to you Mr Author, we won't see each other again.
good luck with your laking writing,..
Overall Score : 2.5
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"There's not much explanation."
The boy laughed darkly as he read the meaningless review, if it even held any meaning.
The boy expected that Ashen of Ashe's review would somehow justify the low rating.
But all he got was a vague review, perhaps unrelated to the story, except for mentioning the main character's name once.
This review seemed personal and targeted.
"But who could it be? No one knows about my writing the novel."
The boy reread the review, hoping to find a hidden meaning he hadn't noticed the first time.
But the review remained as vague as it came... except for one thing.
"This person read until the last chapter, so why does their review say otherwise?"
Lost in his thoughts, the boy didn't notice the door to his room opening.
"Walid, breakfast is ready, get up, stop being so lazy."
The figure standing at the door spoke, pulling Walid out of his thoughts.
He looked up from his phone towards the figure at his room door.
"Good morning, mom."
Walid's mother nodded and left the door open.
Walid turned his gaze back to his phone screen.
SIGH
With a helpless sigh, he exited the browser.
He could delete the review, but the rating would remain. That was somehow worse than leaving the random review.
"Should I really just delete the novel and republish it?"
Unbeknownst to him, his face held a deep scowl.
'This would be the third time I rewrite this novel.'
"I am tired."
Walid put his phone aside and stared at the ceiling of his room with a vacant expression for a while.
He felt he was just wasting his time.
It had been his dream to become a writer, to be able to share his own language and be praised for it.
But it was also what had taken away his smile and most of his expressions.
"It's been five years now..."
SIGH
Walid sighed to push away his frustration.
He covered his face with his hands to push away the scowl and regain his composure.
His hands were very cold, but he didn't move them away.
He felt it suited him.
Soon, Walid returned to his usual cool demeanor.
"No matter what it takes."
He reassured himself, renewing his determination.
'I am too far in now to turn back. I just have to move forward.'
.
.
.
With this thought, Walid got up from his bed and headed to the kitchen, where the sounds that disrupted the morning silence came from.
His mother was already there, gave him a warm look, and returned to what she was doing.
"What did you bring?"
Walid asked after looking at the bag on the table.
"The usual... and some fresh vegetables for our lunch and your siblings."
Walid tilted his head in confusion.
"But you always bring vegetables in the afternoon."
"I am tired, and I am old. I can't go and come back like this anymore."
His mother said in a dismissive tone, not taking her focus off the pot on the stove.
Walid felt guilt pierce his heart in a way he never thought possible. It wasn't that he didn't see the signs; he just ignored them or commented on them lovingly as he always did.
He looked at his beloved mother, whom he couldn't understand no matter how hard he tried.
"Mom, why have you never asked me to go out and look for a job? All my friends' mothers are not as lenient as you. Why are you different?"
Trying to hide his guilt, Walid asked the question he couldn't help but ask.
His mother looked at him with a dismissive smile, as if his words themselves were foolish in meaning.
"You're talking as if you're thirty years old, you're still young, barely twenty-four. And I'm not lenient; I just don't want to stand between you and this vague dream of yours. Be careful, if you're just fooling me and wasting your time playing on that phone, I won't talk to you again."
For the first time, Walid's expression changed to a genuine smile.
"I wouldn't dare, and I'm not wasting my time."
'Or at least that's what I like to think.'
Nevertheless, five years have passed, and what has changed?
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.
.
Unusually, Walid decided not to write anything for the day and took a day off.
This decision came after he decided against deleting his novel and republishing it.
One negative review did not fully determine the quality of his writing when there were four others who thought otherwise.
With that, Walid spent his day playing video games on his laptop, a hobby he had almost forgotten since the day he decided to chase his dream of being a writer.
Time passed quickly, and when Walid checked his phone, it was already nine at night.
"Why not take a walk for a bit."
With that in mind, he informed his mother that he was going out.
His mother gave him some money to get some supplies from the supermarket.
Something Walid was used to, so he didn't mind.
He changed into something more suitable for going out and left the house.
The weather was cold as usual, the cold breeze seeping through the thin fabric of his clothes.
Walid shivered but didn't mind the feeling.
Somehow, the cold made him feel comfortable and calm.
One of the reasons he loved night walks.
The streets were empty, much to his liking.
Only occasional passing cars.
After a few minutes, the neighborhood supermarket was within sight.
Walid crossed the street toward it, not sparing a second glance at the group of teenagers with their decorated cars and rowdy behavior in the parking lot in front of the supermarket.
But life wasn't perfect.
Being alone, and his shy, almost aloof demeanor caught the attention of the group of teenagers.
So they decided to cut off his path.
"What do we have here, haven't seen you around before... Hey Mark, do you know who this skinny little kitten is?"
"Come on Ethan, don't call him that, he might scratch you with his little claws haha..."
"Come on guys, leave the man alone, look at his face..."
The laughter and insults continued for a while, but Walid's calm and cold demeanor soon put an end to the show. The one called Ethan got to the point.
"You see, little man, we need some money. Jackie here wants to go to college or whatever, and we're raising donations for him because we're good friends... So be the nice guy we want you to be and donate everything you have."
"Yeah, yeah, I have a dream, and I need money for cigarett... I mean notebooks."
The group laughed again, but they were discreetly forming a circle around Walid to trap him.
They didn't expect him to willingly give them the money, so they were ready for violence, thinking he was an easy target.
And in some way, he was.
Walid took out all his belongings, his phone, his earbuds, and all the money his mother gave him.
It wasn't that he was afraid of the group of teenagers, but Walid valued his life.
He wouldn't fight a group of drunk teenagers just for material belongings he could replace.
Who knew what they would do in their intoxication and recklessness?
So he handed his belongings to the teenager Ethan who stepped forward to claim them.
The teenager inspected them and opened a path for him to leave the circle.
Walid left without looking back.
He no longer had a reason to enter the supermarket without money.
So he just left.
.
.
.
"I don't like this. This isn't how things should go."
Said the teenager named Mark as he sat back on his red car.
"Don't be a coward. We usually don't get a phone. Even though it's cheap, we can resell it for a decent price."
"There's still something wrong with that guy. What if he reports us. We have his phone now, it would be easy for him to get us in trouble."
The group tensed at the realization, and everyone started coming up with random theories about Walid, who had already left their sight.
"Calm down, guys."
Yelled the teenager who first blocked Walid's path.
"Even though I think that fool is just a coward, Mark is the smart of us, he might be right... I think we should do something."
"Like what"
"That's the question!.. Why not teach him a little lesson, plant some fear in him. And just to be safe, guys, we'll return his phone – our way."
The group started laughing hysterically.
No one understood what was in their leader Ethan's mind, but they loved his words.
And as he explained his plan, their laughter turned into something closer to madness.
With the group of teenagers regaining their relative composure, they got into their cars and followed Walid, tracing his path.
Not even three minutes passed before they spotted him walking alone in the quiet of night.
As Ethan was about to honk the car horn, following his friends' example to scare Walid, the phone he took from him started ringing.
Ethan looked at the phone, surprised to see that the caller was under the name "Mom."
Something deep stirred inside Ethan, making him not honk in time.
"WATCH OUT!!!"
As he lifted his head, his car hit Walid directly, sending him flying a few meters ahead.
Even though Ethan slammed on the brakes, it was already too late.
The group of teenagers' cars stopped around the fallen Walid.
They all got out to look at his motionless body, except for Ethan.
He just stayed in his car, his eyes staring at Walid's body, which was slowly starting to bleed.
With a trembling hand, Ethan lifted the phone in his hand.
It was still ringing.
The same name displayed prominently.
It soon dawned on him.
Ethan's expression turned to one of horror as he looked at the name on the phone.
A small tear made its way down his cheek.
"Mom, I'm sorry!"