2024-12-27 14:35:45In the quarry of East Valley, a group of fierce, muscular men were working hard. If there were any crime experts present, they would be utterly shocked.
Everyone here was one of the most notorious criminals in the world, yet now they were all quietly working, not daring to utter a single complaint.
On the hillside, a man who didn’t appear particularly strong sat calmly, hiding in the shade of a tree. Under his watchful gaze, not a single person dared to slack off.
“Boss, I’ve cleaned the restroom... I really understand my mistake now...”
A man in a janitor’s uniform looked at Kael with a flattering expression, his tone respectful to the extreme.
Who could have imagined that, just a year ago, he was the mafia boss of the King District in Eastwind City, commanding over a thousand men?
But to escape the relentless pursuit of his enemies, he had no choice but to come to the quarry and become one of its workers.
Through the most confidential channels, he learned that no one dared to stir trouble in the East Valley Quarry. The reason? There was someone here they simply couldn’t afford to offend—Kael Constantine.
At first, he didn’t believe it, but after spending five months here in relative peace, he had no choice but to admit that the East Valley Quarry was indeed a forbidden zone.
Except—he was being treated as Kael’s servant.
“I understand. Next time, don’t add any sugar to my tea. If you make another mistake, you’ll be in charge of cleaning the restroom for a month,” Kael said indifferently.
“Thank you, Boss!” The mafia boss replied, bowing deeply.
Compared to being hacked to death on the streets by his enemies, being a servant didn’t seem like such a bad fate after all.
“Mr. Kael, sir!” The scrawny worker stumbled into the dusty office, clutching his cap like a lifeline.
Kael sighed. "Now what?"“Sir, It’s the Reaper and the Butcher. They’re fighting again. The workers are scared to intervene.”
Kael stood, stretching lazily. “Scared? Of those two clowns? Fine. Let’s go.” In the quarry yard, two hulking figures circled each other, their shirts torn and fists raised. “You think you’re the toughest here, Butcher?” the Reaper growled. “I’ll carve you up like a Sunday roast!” The Butcher sneered. “Big words for a guy who cries every time he stubs his toe. Bring it on, twig arms!” The workers formed a loose circle, whispering nervously. Kael approached, hands in his pockets, his presence silencing the crowd. “Reaper. Butcher.” Kael’s voice was calm but carried an edge that made both men freeze mid-swing. “Do you two enjoy wasting my time?” Both men stammered incoherent excuses. Kael held up a hand. “Save it. You’ve got two choices. One, hang yourselves under the sun for three days and reflect on how dumb you are.” The Butcher blinked. “Three days, boss? That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” Kael’s gaze turned icy. “Option two: fight me instead.” The Reaper and the Butcher exchanged wide-eyed glances. The Reaper chuckled nervously. “You know, boss, hanging doesn’t sound so bad. Good for the posture, right?” The Butcher nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, and the weather’s great this time of year. Sunbathing it is!” Kael crossed his arms. “Good. Now smile while you climb the scaffold. If I hear a single complaint, we’ll revisit option two.” Both men grinned like children caught stealing cookies. “Thank you, boss! We promise no more fights!” As the pair scampered off, the scrawny worker sidled up to Kael, his voice barely above a whisper. “Uh, sir… there’s someone else here to see you.” Kael pinched the bridge of his nose. “If it’s another fight, I’m throwing everyone in the quarry into a pit and filling it with water.” “No, sir. It’s a woman. With two scary-looking bodyguards.” Kael’s eyebrow twitched. “A woman?” “Yes, sir. She says her name is Selene.” Kael’s expression didn’t change, but his voice dropped. “Bring her in. And don’t let anyone else interrupt.” Selene entered the office like she owned the place, her military uniform immaculate. Her two bodyguards followed, their eyes scanning every corner like hawks. Kael didn’t rise from his chair, his tone bored. “What brings the nation’s greatest war hero to my humble quarry?” Selene smirked. “I see exile hasn’t dampened your charm, Kael. Or your… questionable choice of decor.” Kael gestured at the mismatched furniture. “I like to keep things simple. Unlike you, I don’t need a parade wherever I go.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not here for banter. I’ve come to annul our engagement.” Kael raised an eyebrow. “Engagement? Oh, right. That thing our parents cooked up when we were kids. I’d almost forgotten.” Selene scoffed. “You’re not fooling anyone, Kael. I’m sure you’ve been clinging to the hope of marrying me, but let me be clear: I’d rather marry a cockroach.” Kael’s lips twitched. “Cockroaches are resilient. Smart choice.” Selene’s face flushed with annoyance. “This isn’t a joke! You’re a lowly quarry worker, while I’m a national hero. Our statuses couldn’t be further apart.” Kael leaned back, his expression unreadable. “If it makes you feel better, I accept. Consider our engagement annulled.” Selene blinked, taken aback. “That’s it? No protest? No begging me to reconsider?” Kael shrugged. “Why would I beg? I’d rather marry a cactus.” The bodyguards stifled snickers, earning a sharp glare from Selene. She straightened, her tone icy. “Enjoy your dirt pile, Kael. I have real work to do. But don’t think this is over. I’ll spare you this time.” Kael waved lazily. “Thanks for your mercy, oh mighty war hero. Don’t trip on the way out.”
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Chapter 255
The tear widened.Not like paper. Not like sky.It screamed open, as if reality itself had reached its breaking point and could no longer hold its seams together. The margins howled with it—bleeding chronology, bleeding memory.And from that wound came everything the world had once forgotten.Whole timelines—long buried, discarded, pruned from the Tree of Plot—came crashing through like collapsing wavefronts. The bleeding margins quaked, and Subtext warped like a glitching dream.One by one, the alternate realities fell into the world like glass shattering in reverse.A kingdom appeared on a hill that hadn’t existed a second before.An entire species blinked into life—then burned into ash.A river rewound into a volcano, erupting upward from the soil like it was angry to have ever cooled.A child, playing with chalk on a cobblestone path, blinked—then became an old man, screaming, weeping, grasping at memories of parents who had never existed.“This is wrong!” Selene cried. “It’s rewr
Chapter 254
It stood between realities like an ink blot defying grammar.The figure—Draft Zero—wasn’t a man, or a monster.It was the part of a story you were never meant to see.The discarded voice.The original fracture.The wrong sentence, left unspoken for so long it became its own echo.Kael felt its presence like a splinter in his thoughts. Something ancient and misremembered, a half-erased whisper at the foundation of his being.“Who are you?” he asked.But even as the words left his lips, part of him knew.The figure straightened, parchment skin fluttering in nonexistent wind. It had no eyes, no face—only a blankness wrapped in folds of obsolete narrative.“I am what came before, Kael,” it whispered. “Before the first story. Before the first quill. Before the Library carved truth into shelves.”Its voice didn’t travel through sound—it pressed directly into the mind, like a childhood memory reemerging with the wrong details. It turned toward the others—Selene, Pamela, Elias, Riva—and with
Chapter 253
The door opened like a wound.It didn’t swing outward or inward—it simply peeled, like memory detaching from bone, like a truth slowly being admitted. As it parted, light spilled from within—not radiant, but revealing, the kind of light that doesn’t illuminate the world so much as strip it down to the shape of its making.Pamela was the first to move.Despite the warnings in her bones, despite the twitching of glyphs along the corridor walls as if trying to signal “do not enter,” she crossed the threshold with the cautious resolve of a historian walking into a page that should never have existed.Beyond the door was no room, no chamber, no vault.It was a loop.A recursive sphere of memory, repeating endlessly in all directions like an echo locked in glass. In the center of it—curled, flickering, radiant and trembling—was Kael, or rather, the moment Kael first knew himself.⸻It was not a moment of joy. Not triumph. Not even clarity.It was terror.There, at the primal origin of his s
Chapter 252
It began with glyphs.Symbols not etched, but remembered—carved not into stone or bark, but into the soft pliable clay of the world’s forgotten thoughts. They pulsed in the margins like veins beneath a translucent skin, glowing faintly with an inner phosphorescence, casting long shadows that shouldn’t have been possible in a world that had no consistent light source anymore.Elias crouched low near the base of a hill where language itself seemed to weep. His fingers traced the symbols reverently, his brow damp with sweat. He wasn’t deciphering language so much as listening to the sediment of meaning. This wasn’t text—it was subtext. A code carved into silence. A whisper woven beneath the page.“They’re instructions,” he murmured finally, eyes widening. “Or… a confession.”Selene knelt beside him, her own breath shallow. “What do they say?”Elias blinked slowly, as if the words ached to be spoken aloud.“The fusion didn’t end the recursion. It started a descent. There’s another layer…
Chapter 251
The margins bled. They always had—but now the bleeding was slow, syrupy, unnervingly rhythmic. As though the world had found a heartbeat again, and that heartbeat pulsed through torn sentences and decaying metaphors. The stitched edges of reality no longer held neatly; instead, they frayed like threads at the cuff of a forgotten draft. The world wasn’t dying. It was… reconsidering itself.And in the center of that strange, shifting non-place walked Kael.Not the god. Not the mortal. Not the child nor the memory. But the fusion.Gold and grey spiraled in his irises like opposing galaxies caught in collision. His skin shimmered like something written and erased and rewritten. Where he walked, words bent around him—trees leaned to avoid narrative alignment, clouds hovered low as if eavesdropping on a story they couldn’t quite grasp.And he was silent.Not just silent in sound, but in presence. Where Kael walked, conversation fled. Wind forgot to howl. Footsteps muffled themselves. Selene
Chapter 250
The sky was ink.No longer a canvas or a dome, no longer even a concept of weather—the sky above the burning margins bled words. Letters tumbled like ash, catching fire midair, sentences dissolving before they were read. Somewhere, a clock tower chimed without gears. Somewhere else, an ocean recited poetry backwards into salt.In the center of this madness stood Selene, surrounded by the fraying edges of the world. The ritual circle had been drawn in molten ink, each glyph traced from memory, not instruction. The old magic—if it could even be called that—was never meant to fuse two selves from separate narrative threads. But then again, the world was never meant to survive Kael’s story.Selene’s hands were burned black with metaphor.In one, she held the broken quill—Kael’s, the one that ended the war, the one that sealed the Library. It still trembled with the memory of finality.In the other, she held the bleeding pen—Kael-0’s, or perhaps a relic from the first word ever written in
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