Finishing the book means death; I abandoned the whole world.

The phone in Yong's pocket inexplicably connected, and Editor-in-Chief Wang's deep baritone voice came through: "Little Yong, are you still alive?"

"Since you're still alive, can you tell me what happened?"

"None of that matters. What matters is, get out. You wrote 'get out,' do you know what that means?" Wang Qiang's voice was complicated.

"What does this mean? Does it mean I swore?"

"This means you've rejected narrative logic! The graveyard of narratives operates on the premise that 'the story must continue,' and by writing 'get out,' you're essentially saying 'the story can stop,' which is 'anti-narrative'!"

Liu Tianyong scratched his head frantically: "Speak like a human being, so what will happen?"

"So now you have two possibilities: either you become the first author to defeat the graveyard by not telling stories, or a rule is specially created for you to be modified into a storyteller, to tell stories forever, endlessly, until you die, or become part of the story."

Yong raised his proud head and looked at the crack in the sky. The pages of the book were still turning, and the sound coming from them was somewhat like chewing something.

Are there any other living authors?

"Of course there are, there are quite a few in our group, including Ye Tian."

Ye Tian? Isn't he a character in my novel? Who is he?

Yongge looked at the phone screen and found that there was a new chat group pinned to the top of the chat software. The group name was: "The Nth Rebirth" character group (3), and the members were: Ye Tian and Liu Tianyong. System notification.

The last message from the system was: Dear author, your character Ye Tian has awakened the "Self-Preservation" protocol and is attempting to establish an equal narrative relationship with you.

The profile picture of Ye Tian is completely black, indicating that he is typing.

Finally, a photo was sent: it seemed to be in the basement of an editorial office, with no walls and bookshelves piled up all around, the kind that extend infinitely, with each book writing automatically and the pages turning by themselves.

Yes, that's good. You fully understand the meaning of your actions. This helps reduce the burden on the author.

Ye Tian stood between the bookshelves, still the same inconspicuous figure: Dear author, I found your [Manuscript Box].

"What the heck?"

"All the unfinished stories you've written since you were a child." Ye Tian sent a video, the camera panning across the bookshelf.

"The Adventures of Xiao Fengzi" was written by a 12-year-old, 2000-word author. The protagonist, Xiao Fengzi, disappears after gaining life.

"The Star Pirates" was written by a 14-year-old with 6000 words, before the spaceship even took off.

"My High School Life Was Colorful," written when I was 16, only up to the male protagonist's appearance.

... (N books omitted here)

"The Nth Rebirth" is written by a 26-year-old with 129 words. The protagonist dies, and the story ends (tentative).

The camera lingers on the last row, where there is only one empty seat. The label reads: "Reserved for 'Completion Means Death, I've Abandoned the Whole World,' Status: Ongoing."

Ye Tian's voice appeared in Yong Ge's mind at just the right moment.

"Dear author, do you know what a narrative graveyard is?"

"Guess if I know?"

"Well, okay, it's the graveyard of all unfinished stories, but you could also say it's a nursery. Unfinished stories don't die; they just wait to be continued or devoured."

"I know about being 'continued'—it just means waiting for the original author to take pity on you and continue updating, or for some kind-hearted fanfic writer to continue it. But what does 'being swallowed up' mean?"

"Simply put, it's being absorbed by other stories, becoming their settings, their background, their nourishment for other novels. Your 'Nth Rebirth' is so hungry that it's started eating reality, and I, as the protagonist, am stuck in its stomach."

"Oh, so you want me to finish writing this book?"

"No! I want you to never finish writing it!" Ye Tian exclaimed excitedly.

Why?!

"For online novels, completion means the end, and the end means death," Ye Tian's voice was a little tired and cunning, somewhat like another version of Liu Tianyong.

"But incompleteness means possibility, and as long as there's a possibility, I have room to maneuver!"

"What do you want to do?"

Ye Tian sent another screenshot regarding "manipulating narrative weights".

[Character: Ye Tian]

[Status: Neither alive nor dead]

[Ability: Can reset death once per day, with the reset point fixed at (the moment the author writes the death)]

[Passive: The protagonist of an unfinished work has priority in the plot and can temporarily override other narratives.]

"Author, your consistent strategy of 'muddling through' is actually the most powerful narrative tactic. Because you don't strive for perfection, you'll never finish; and because you never finish, you'll never be archived!"

Brother Yong seemed to be thinking, "Isn't this similar to the situation of a certain bodyguard? Lifetime guarantee, a secure job!"

"Little Tian, ​​are you teaching me how to do things?"

"No, I'm teaching you how to survive. Now look up."

Yongge looked up and saw that the crack in the sky was healing.

Like a scabbed wound, the pages of the book were pressed back behind the clouds by some mysterious force, leaving only a shallow scar, like the scar left after an appendectomy, only it was crimson.

It can also be understood as a "comment line" that stretches across the sky.

The voice of Editor-in-Chief Wang came through the phone again: "Liu Tianyong, listen to me carefully. The person urging you to update has left, but only temporarily. You must officially update within 24 hours, otherwise it will come back with the [Forced Completion] permission."

"How much needs to be updated?"

"At least 2000 words, and it must be an effective narrative with scenes, dialogue, and progression. It cannot be filler, disjointed, or tentative!"

"What if I can't do it?"

"Then you can write a will. I think you're quite good at it. Anyway, it's all effective narrative, and the graveyard doesn't discriminate."

Communication is interrupted.

Yong Ge lay on the roof of the car, exhausted. The streets gradually returned to normal, and the survivors began to cheer. The ink-stained river water receded, leaving only a faint smell of ink.

Although everything seems to have returned to normal.

But this is just a narrative facade; many passersby still have empty eyes, repeating certain specific actions in a loop.

It's like a world in draft form—rough, temporary, and waiting to be revised.

Ye Tian sent a message: Dear author, there are still 23 hours and 50 minutes left before the update. You are welcome to visit my channel. The address is the first paragraph you wrote to me.

Yong looked at the red fountain pen; a line of small characters had appeared on the barrel at some point:

At 23:59 PM, Ye Tian walked to the window.

This is the beginning of the novel, and the beginning of everything.

Liu Tianyong took a deep breath, his heart filled with resentment, and forcefully wrote on the roof of the car with a red pen: 【The End!】

"I'll fucking kill you! Author, that's enough, stop using this meme! Believe me or not, I'll slap you!" Editor-in-Chief Wang, flicking the last three tufts of hair on his head, jumped out of the book and pointed at the colorful long johns' nose, cursing loudly!

Okay, alright. [To be continued]

Ink seeped into the roof of the car, just like blood seeped into a blood vessel.

In the distance, Editor-in-Chief Wang stood before the melted window, a half-smile playing on his lips.

Liu Tianyong gazed at the office building, watching the indistinct figure of Editor-in-Chief Wang in the distance, and slowly extended his middle finger!