"It’s all cleaned up already?"

"Another S level rating?"

"That Level 1 Venue Assistant named Han Zhan, where is he now, I want to see him!"

An excited voice echoed in the boxing ring manager’s office.

"Well, they have already gone on vacation. It was agreed with Luo Heng, that if this cleanup was successfully completed, they would be promised a day off."

"According to Paradise’s regulations, an extra day off is rewarded for an S level rating. So now they have a total of two days off," the subordinate replied.

"Damn regulations, stupid regulations! Who would have thought that someone could complete two S-level cleanup tasks consecutively?"

"And those damn reviewers!"

The office entered another round of cursing at the reviewers, no one knew how much time passed.

The manager’s anger subsided, "Where did he go? Even if he’s not at the boxing ring, I can go find him personally."

"With Han Zhan’s ability, he should at least be a Level 2 Venue Assistant, or even Level 3 Venue Management wouldn’t be inappropriate."

"I need to have a good talk with him."

"Well... he probably went to that place you previously disdained... the Third-Rate Writer Bar..."

"..."

In Pure Beauty Paradise, Third-Rate Writer Bar.

It was not a popular bar, lacking events, a theme, and with ordinary decor.

In Pure Beauty Paradise, there are two very popular bars, one of which is the Beauty God Bar, also Pure Beauty Paradise’s only themed bar, where a huge number of VIPs are welcomed every day.

The biggest feature of the Beauty God Bar is the opportunity to see the owner of Pure Beauty Paradise, also the ruler of Pure Beauty Star, the God of Pure Beauty, a true deity.

No one can describe Her beauty, only a bard once invited to a ball at the Beauty God Bar gave such a review:

That should be the union of all beauty in my heart, an impossible beauty in the world!

And it is precisely for this reason that the Beauty God Bar has become a must-visit holy site in Pure Beauty Paradise.

And at the Beauty God Bar, every attendant is extremely beautiful and handsome young men and women, even if you don’t see the God of Pure Beauty, it would ensure the needs of the VIPs are met.

The Beauty God Bar is already like this, and the other bar on par with it is the Dream Death Bar.

According to legend, this bar was created by another deity, a pursuer of the God of Pure Beauty.

This deity took the path of brewing, the wine they brewed had an extraordinary taste that could make people as if living in a dream of life and death.

Compared with Beauty God Bar and Dream Death Bar, the Third-Rate Writer Bar, just like its name, is absolutely third-rate.

Guan Congming, as the manager of this paradise area, has a huge gap in status and position compared with those area managers who have high revenue.

The founder of the Third-Rate Writer Bar was a third-rate writer who went through great pains to get an invitation to the paradise, and came here.

His initial purpose was simple, to gain more lifespan to continue his creations.

Because he firmly believed it was not his skill that was lacking but the absence of an opportunity, a chance for fame.

But this required more time, and moreover, a longer life.

This is the origin of the Third-Rate Writer Bar.

After this, those invited to Pure Beauty Paradise come in all shapes and sizes, and there are always some despondent writers.

Thus, the "tradition" of the Third-Rate Writer Bar was passed down.

At this time, at the Third-Rate Writer Bar, three young men with different styles sat at the bar.

The one on the far right wore a thick light brown long coat, a round bowler hat, with two tufts of golden mustache, having a retro gentleman style.

The one in the middle wore sky-blue shorts and a white short-sleeved shirt, even in the dim bar, still wore a pair of exaggerated black sunglasses, very trendy.

On the far left, dressed in a neat coffee-colored plaid suit, ash-gray straight pants, also wore a hat, but his was broader.

His face was dark, only upon close inspection did you realize it was made up of mechanical parts like iron plates, gears, nuts, springs, cranks.

His left eye wore a bronze monocle, while the right eye seemed embedded with a red jewel, glowing with a red light.

Their different dress styles seemed to represent different writing styles.

They sat side by side, seemingly discussing and pondering inspiration for writing.

In reality:

"Vasily, it’s your turn to treat today," the retro-style writer on the far right said, glancing at the bill handed over by the bartender.

"Hey, bro, didn’t you get it wrong?" Vasily, sitting in the middle, leaned back in an exaggerated motion, "Isn’t it Hua Sheng’s turn today?"

"No. In my brain storage, there’s a special table recording the treat schedule; it’s your turn today," the cyber AI-like Hua Sheng said blandly.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" Vasily looked at Hua Sheng in disbelief, "You’re using such precious brain storage space to store these trivial things!"

"I’m so disappointed in you, Hua Sheng. Shouldn’t your storage space be used to record more valuable text, plots, settings..."

"A table doesn’t need much memory, Vasily. My table isn’t like those exaggeratedly large-sized underwear in your novels," Hua Sheng interrupted.

The three’s conversation had a sole listener, the waiter standing beside them with the drinks bill.

He remained calm, seemingly accustomed to everything happening.

"The total is 0.06 life currency, gentlemen,"

He seized the gap in their conversation, reminding them at the right moment.

"Did the drinks get a price hike? Somehow that’s 0.06 life currency, equivalent to two days of my draft fee! Oh, damn!" Vasily grumbled.

"No, sir. It’s because you misunderstood yourself as today’s host, so initially you ordered two drinks resolutely, two each."

The waiter reminded again.

Vasily was momentarily speechless. He looked at the retro gentleman on the far right; as if thinking of something, his eyes suddenly lit up:

"Pemberton, I remember it now, you still owe me 0.1 life currency, so you pay for the drinks today, and then you only need to pay me back 0.04 life currency."

Pemberton’s golden moustache twitched slightly at this, "That’s really ungentlemanly."

He suddenly turned to the other two companions and said, "Gentlemen, why don’t we play an old gentleman’s game?"

"Let’s show our serialized novels to the next person who enters the bar and let them judge."

"The one with the lowest rating will pay for today’s drinks."

"Aren’t you all self-proclaimed underappreciated writers? How about giving it a try?"

Pemberton’s suggestion brightened Vasily’s and Hua Sheng’s eyes.

Especially Vasily, who immediately summoned the waiter, ordered another drink, and declared confidently, "In a contest like this, I’m sure to win!"

Cling-ling-ling.

The bar door swung open,

and Han Zhan walked in from outside.