'Huh... what's... where am I...?'
Steve thought as he slowly rose up, his head heavy, his body sluggish.
His eyes fluttered open, struggling against the darkness that clung to him. A sharp pounding filled his head, but in the next moment, it was like the fog lifted all at once. His vision snapped into focus.
The sun blazed above him, golden rays streaming down like rivers of fire. A faint warmth kissed his skin.
He blinked, confused, and muttered under his breath.
"What the hell..."
Squinting, he caught sight of a sunbeam slashing through the sky, scattering over a wide, open plain. Grass rippled around him, a green ocean stretching far and wide.
"I'm in... a grassland." he added, a frown settling on his face.
Still slightly dazed, he tilted his head and noticed the shimmering edge of a river just a few meters away. The gentle babble of the water sounded almost too peaceful, too out of place.
'How the hell did I end up here?' he wondered, scanning his surroundings warily.
Then his gaze dropped to his own body. He was dressed in a plain weaved long-sleeve shirt, rough but well-made, paired with simple trousers tucked into worn leather boots. It looked cheap, sure — but somehow, it suited him.
He brushed his hand over the material, a strange feeling prickling through him. The familiarity of it all... it gnawed at the edge of his mind.
Before he could figure it out, a rush of memories slammed into him like a crashing wave.
He gasped, staggering slightly. Images flashed in his mind — the blinding lightning, the pain, the darkness. His death.
And then... the angel. The one who spoke of reincarnation.
A grim chuckle escaped his lips.
"Hm, that's right. He reincarnated me in this world... as the author, right?"
He shook his head slowly, a small, almost bitter smile playing on his lips.
"Well, dying was unexpected... but who doesn't, eventually?" he muttered, voice dry.
The memories continued flooding back, clearer now.
"Yeah...there's no need to be gloomy...actually...I remember this as well..." he said, speaking to no one in particular. His lips quirked into a smirk.
"This was... the first thing I thought of..."
The realization spread through him, sharp and thrilling. He looked around again, heart pounding in a way that felt almost giddy.
"I'm... I'm in the grassland near the riverbank." he said aloud, as if needing to hear it to believe it. He clutched at his shirt, pulling it slightly.
"I'm wearing plain medieval clothes, and I'm..."
He paused, the excitement bubbling too strong to contain.
Without thinking, he dashed toward the river.
Dropping to his knees, he peered into the water's mirror-like surface. His reflection stared back at him.
It was his face... but different. Sharper jawline. Straighter nose. A confidence he didn't remember having before.
Eyes wide, he leaned closer.
"I'm handsome..." he breathed, disbelief painted across his face.
A laugh, raw and disbelieving, tore from his throat.
"...I'm fucking handsome!" he crowed, raising both hands into the air like he had just won the lottery.
"The angel wasn't kidding....it actually sent me into my novel!!"
Grinning ear to ear, he pumped his fists once more, savoring the moment.
Then, something caught his eye — a glint of brown against the green.
He blinked, squinting.
There, half-hidden in the grass, sat a small brown-covered notebook.
"What the hell is that?" he wondered, tilting his head.
He hesitated for a beat, then rose up, dusting off his trousers. His boots crunched softly against the grass as he made his way toward it.
Reaching down, he picked up the notebook.
The moment his fingers brushed the cover, a loud chiming sound echoed around him, and a translucent blue screen popped up in midair.
Steve flinched, eyes wide. "What the hell?!"
A system notification rang out loud and clear.
[Welcome, Author]
the message displayed boldly.
Steve gawked at the glowing screen, his heartbeat quickening.
"Author?" he echoed, staring dumbfounded at the title floating in the air.
He glanced down at the notebook again, a sense of creeping realization worming its way into his gut.
'Is this... the book the angel was talking about?' he thought, heart hammering.
'The book that'll help me edit the context of this world?'
He turned the notebook over in his hands. It looked so plain. So still. So old.
'If it is... why the hell does it look so ancient?' he thought, brow furrowed.
As if hearing his confusion, a new article in the notebook flashed open, revealing another bold title:
[Rules of the Book]
Steve squinted at the neatly written lines beneath.
[*Players can only edit minor contents of the story, which will not affect the main storyline.
*Players can only use editing ability once every 12 hours, or it will result in the deduction of the player's lifespan.]
Steve's lips parted in a silent whistle.
"Wow." he muttered, scratching the back of his head. His expression twisted into a grimace.
"That's kinda rough... Taking my lifespan? Definitely a no-no..."
He nodded firmly to himself.
"I guess... I could only use it twice a day then," he mused aloud, his tone half serious, half resigned.
He took one last glance at the notebook, its brown cover oddly comforting now.
"Hmm," he murmured, his mouth twitching into a small grin.
"There's no need to be gloomy. It's a score for me."
He tossed the notebook lightly in his hand, feeling a sudden surge of confidence.
"I mean, I basically get the ability to play God." he thought, a wild thrill racing through his veins.
"Yeah, it's definitely not a bad idea. I'm already strong enough..."
His eyes gleamed mischievously.
"...Now all that's left is... the MILFs."
Steve's grin widened. Oh, he hadn't forgotten. No way.
He knew exactly what was coming next. He knew the game he had built for himself. He had written it after all.
And one thing he had made sure to include... was the MILFs.
He shook his head, laughing softly under his breath.
'I mean, come on.' he thought, heart thudding with excitement.
"It's literally a village full of them."
A whole place run by gorgeous, mature women, just waiting for someone like him.
A heaven, really.
Steve could already picture it.
And the best part? He knew where it was.
Following the story he had written, the village was just a few meters away.
He had even written himself a family — a mother, a cousin and a sister.
That meant... they were already there, waiting for him.
'Not that I have... good plans for them...' he thought, a smirk curling his lips.
He cracked his knuckles, the excitement practically buzzing in his veins.
"Yes..." he murmured, eyes gleaming.
"It's time to begin my harem."
Dusting himself off, he straightened his clothes and tucked the brown notebook securely under his arm.
With a confident stride, he began walking — strolling casually across the grassland, heading straight for the village he had created.
"Back to the MILFs." he said with a wicked grin.
"Back to my harem."
***
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