Shadow Author - Chapter 80 60. Mattresses

Xu Yiren, who has 300,000 fans, scolded Song Tianmei, a new traffic flower with more than 5 million fans, on Weibo: “Who in China doesn’t know that Gu Yu is your backstage!” People are sitting at home, and the pot is coming from the sky.

Gu Yu: “Excuse me?”

Three months later, Gu Yu put his hand on Xu Yiren’s side and said softly, “I have never been the backstage of anyone in my life, but from today onwards, I will be your backstage.”

- Description from Novelupdates

“Hot Noodles request to add you as a friend.”An inexplicable friend request, a non-existent contact.Claiming to be a message from herself in the future, intimately knowledgeable about her past.Fang Xiaocao was utterly numb.Hot Noodles: Danger, do not go home tonight.“Is this some kind of joke?”Staring at the WeChat message, Fang Xiaocao rolled her eyes and opened the anti-theft door.Hot Noodles: At midnight, when the knocking starts, don't turn on the light if you don't want to die.In the early morning: 00:00:00Fang Xiaocao was woken by the knocking sound. She was just about to turn on the bedside lamp when she remembered that bizarre message.She pulled back her hand and stayed put until dawn, only to know her neighbor next door, a woman living alone just like her was murdered at midnight...Fang Xiaocao was suddenly covered in a cold sweat.Hot Noodles: To celebrate our narrow escape from death, go to the flea market before three in the afternoon, stall number 7, and buy the seventh inkstone on the left-hand side. The seller's bottom price is 80, but the inkstone is worth 8 million.After last night's ordeal, Fang Xiaocao inexplicably chose to believe.She successfully bought an inkstone for a hundred dollars, and later discover it was indeed a imperial inkstone from the Qing Qianlong era, worthing 8 million!Fang Xiaocao stood there, dumbfounded!Following the message's instructions, she bought a second-hand car.But little did she know, the guidance was linking her into a series of events that dragged out a murder case and a fortune worth two small goals.Who on earth sent her the messages?It's really her future self?Or it's some kind of bizarre game?

“Look at him,” someone snickered from a few rows over. “Smells like he sleeps in a dumpster.”“Probably does,” another voice added, louder this time. Nox just stared at his textbook, the words blurring. He had heard it all before.Then, Mark, one of the main reasons his life was a living hell, swaggered past his desk. Mark always had a smirk on his face. “Oops,” he said, not even trying to sound accidental, as a full cup of bright orange juice tipped over, splashing all down the front of Nox's already ruined shirt. The cold liquid soaked through instantly. Laughter erupted around the room. It was loud, clear, and mocking. Nox slowly looked up. His eyes landed on Ms. Joy, who was watching the whole thing. She had seen Mark deliberately pour the juice on him. He raised his hand, a small, tired gesture. “Ms. Joy,” he said, his voice flat. “He just poured juice on me. Are you just going to ignore it? Again?.” Ms. Joy looked at him, then at Mark, who was now theatrically wiping his hands. A small smile played on her lips. Then she chuckled. Just a little airy laugh.“Oh, Nox, don't be so dramatic. Boys will be boys, right Mark?” Mark puffed out his chest. “Yeah, Ms. Joy. He's just sensitive.” The class laughed even harder at that. Ms. Joy joined in, her laughter ringing out with theirs. Hearing them all, hearing her laugh, something in him finally snapped. It wasn't a loud break, more like a quiet, final click. He realized it then, with a cold, hard clarity. No one was coming to save him. No teachers, no police, no parents he never had. No one cared. If he wanted this to stop, he would have to be the one to stop it. He was the only one who could.His face remained blank, but his mind was suddenly very clear. He reached down slowly, his hand going into his worn-out school bag. The laughter died down a little as a few students noticed his deliberate movement, a strange stillness about him. He pulled out a gun.The classroom went silent. Utterly, completely silent. Mark's smirk vanished, replaced by wide, terrified eyes. Even Ms. Joy stopped laughing, her face paling. “What… Nox, what are you doing?” she stammered, her voice suddenly shaky. He didn't answer. He looked around at their faces, one by one. Fear. He saw fear now. Good. He was ready. He was going to make them all pay. He was going to end it, all of it.Just as he was about to raise the gun properly, a bright blue screen appeared right in front of his face. It was translucent, and only he seemed to see it. [Congratulations! You have met the requirements!] [1st Player Chosen!] [You have won the System!]

Of all the characters in this story, it had to be the son of a bitch!?Thanks to the courtesy of Truck-kun, I was transmigrated into the famous yet garbage novel, [Hero's Apocalypse].The character I possessed was a third-rate extra who had the [Talent] to 'plunder' other talents. Yet, as overpowered as it might sound, the conditions to fulfill a successful plundering were extreme, making this character truly befitting a third-rate trash.But that's not what's important right now—it's the fact that this man's role in the original story was his very death, and I opened my eyes after the original body just finished killing himself.“Fuck! Why did you attempt to sexually assault the Imperial Princess?!”Feeling livid, I strongly punched the mirror in front of me, knowing that as soon as I gained a new life through mysterious means, others would inevitably come to take it because of this bastard's unforgivable sin.But I wanted to survive...Motherfucker, can I do it?!