Chapter 195: Stumbling and staggering, the prodigal returns home—words of gratitude upon release

Stumbling and staggering, the prodigal returns home—words of gratitude upon release.

This book is pure wish-fulfillment.

If there’s any difference, it’s that I wanted to write a wish-fulfillment novel with as logical a progression as possible, a brisk pace, clear power hierarchies, and no chaos even in its later stages.

The purpose of starting this book was to please readers, let them enjoy themselves, and vent the pressure of reality.

That’s why this book exists, why I’ve returned to the game-parallel-world genre.

After The Deep Sovereign won the 2014 Game King award, I never wrote another game-parallel-world story.

This was a promise made between me and many longtime readers who’ve known me for over a decade: Futo, if you flop again, I’ll still subscribe to the whole thing—just write your next book like your old ones, a pure wish-fulfillment novel, preferably game-parallel-world, in the style of Spartacus: cut till it bursts, kill till it explodes.

Now, I’ve kept my promise and completed the overall structure of this book.

I did my best—wrote it however satisfying it could be. If I didn’t like excessive world-building, I cut it; even completed drafts got major revisions. If the pacing felt slow, I sped it up; if readers pointed out problems, I fixed them.

Because the book’s original intent was simply to let readers enjoy themselves, to repay them—no flashy nonsense.

I lie here with my pen in hand; tell me what satisfying moments you want, and I’ll write them.

That’s it.

Volume One: Human Vessel #1, Medieval Era—Barbarian Invasion, Dominator Plot, Style: Spartacus, Song of Slaughter and Whatnot, Xiang Yu’s Overlord Template.

This was written into the outline.

Each volume has a different style; after dimensional ascension, the protagonist is equivalent to a quasi-god above gods, invincible—except when he must descend via a human vessel, his true self need only fear other god-above-god entities.

Volume Two: Human Vessel #3, Future Nest-City, Steampunk Cyberpunk, Era of Revolution, Cult Leader Template, Dark Aesthetic, Punching Outer Demigods, Seizing Their Human Vessels, Purifying the Entire Dark Nest-City with the “Purification Accord,” carving a mountain of corpses and rivers of blood.

This is the Godfather Plot as defined in the outline.

Each volume is a different wish-fulfillment life script—just like the title suggests: you are the post-ascension player, and the real world is your game arena.

The tone of each volume varies: some rugged, some passionate, some grand and sweeping, some imbued with Gothic gloom—I’ve written in these styles before.

Different plots, adjusted according to reader feedback—if it doesn’t work, I change it. Simple and blunt.

But once I’ve written an Xiang Yu overlord template, I won’t write a Lu Bu one again.

Xiang Yu’s martial prowess—unparalleled in all history.

The Records of the Grand Historian dared to write it; Liu’s dynasty dared to acknowledge it; I dare place Xiang Yu’s script in the medieval Europe setting and slaughter wildly—even directly pitted against the Lord of the Rings power system, Xiang Yu would carve a bloody path.

In the name of God, cleanse Europe.

The protagonist is a being beyond dimensions—he can be a continent overlord, a dark godfather, a star wanderer, an interstellar warrior who sets the entire galaxy ablaze, a world-ending dragon of the Final Realm—he has many identities, yet he can also be an ordinary person; after experiencing ordinary life, he might one day “retire,” handing his human vessel over to causality.

He is a transdimensional entity, free to live out whatever wish-fulfillment life he desires.

The hardest part of the entire book’s structure is keeping the power system from collapsing—this is where I’ve spent the most effort and where my plot pacing is most tested.

The core principle: listen to advice, gather collective wisdom, and gradually sort out the wish-fulfillment scripts.

I’ll write; you tell me what’s satisfying and how to arrange it—I’ve been writing for over a decade; I still have the skill.

In the same world, future volumes may enter via a human vessel or a spirit summoned by ritual. Last time, it was a continent-dominating overlord; next time, it might be an obscure nobody—but never the same life twice.

I call this the “afterglow after the climax” after finishing a volume.

Hmm.

Someone might ask: if Volume Two is Human Vessel #3, then where’s Human Vessel #2?

Hmm, #2 is a side character—the first aberrant human vessel.

One who’s lived for thousands of years.

Unconsciously, I’ve said too much—but this is roughly my idea for the book: to give readers maximum satisfaction, I’ll spare no effort.

Stumbling and staggering, the prodigal returns home.

Any future attempts to venture out and hit walls with other genres will come only after this book is finished.

Now, let’s talk seriously.

First, the pacing has been off lately—suddenly, negative reviews have surged. I don’t manage my reader circle; I only know one trick: permanent ban. But as long as it’s not deliberately stirring negativity, I won’t ban anyone.

This book just launched, and longtime readers joked about my ups and downs—up, then down, down, down, down, down. All normal.

Everyone likes different genres; even I have genres I dislike. As long as it’s not deliberate provocation, it’s fine.

Every reader has their own preferences; they’re mature individuals, not easily swayed by others.

I’ve kept every negative review from my old books over a decade ago, so readers know this book has strengths and flaws—but if it harms others’ reading experience, I only have one solution: permanent ban.

One rule: don’t stir negativity, don’t ruin others’ enjoyment. This book’s original intent is to deliver a wish-fulfillment novel that lets readers vent.

Second: if you have feedback, speak up. I’ll read it, adjust based on reader reactions. Since many stories are standalone volumes, if you dislike a writing style change, I’ll switch it—but don’t use malicious language or disrupt others.

Third: if you can, subscribe to the first volume.

Just subscribe to the first volume. If you enjoy it, keep reading; if not, put it aside—this book is a gift to readers.

This book was born for those old-timers who subscribe even when they don’t read, making me feel ashamed. Volume One’s Overlord Plot is the Spartacus offering for them.

Of course, I still beg for first-volume subscriptions.

The serial readership should already be over ten thousand—let’s push it. See how far we can go. I rely on you all.

Wishing everyone a prosperous New Year, full of good fortune!

As above.

—The flopping Futo, keeping his promise, strives to write you a decisive, bloody wish-fulfillment novel.