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

A couple next to me is arguing, and their lines are incoherent:

"You don't love me at all!" [A flashback should be added here to establish the emotional foundation.]

"What? What did you say?" [A complex emotion flashed in the female lead's eyes, and she hesitated, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't.]

"Say something! Say something! It's always the same; I'm the only one talking!"

They are trapped in different narratives, as if two authors are describing the same scene at the same time without prior communication and not at the same point.

In another location, a food delivery rider stood next to his electric scooter and bowed to the air.

"Hello, your takeout has arrived." [Repeat three times, maintaining a smile, to enhance the comedic effect]

His customer had turned into an A4 sheet of paper, floating in the air, with the following printed on it:

[Customer, male, 28 years old, name: undetermined, occupation: programmer, currently working overtime, is very hungry but forgot to order takeout]

The rider continued to bow, repeating the process, as if he were stuck in a bug, or perhaps waiting for a patch to fix it.

What lay ahead drove Liu Tianyong to the brink of madness; goosebumps rose all over his body, and his scalp tingled.

A group of college students in school uniforms poured out of the subway station, as if they were on a spring outing. Their faces were full of happy smiles as they took pictures with their phones, seemingly oblivious to the unusual situation around them.

But their shadows are doing different things!

The shadows were running, screaming, and tearing at each other, like another version of the story, or perhaps a dark, censored version—the truth the author dared not write, fearing it wouldn't pass censorship.

A shapely girl, her shadow detached from her body, crawled to Yong Ge's feet: "Run! They're rewriting!"

"Who's rewriting it?" Yong Ge was completely bewildered; his brain had been almost completely fried in just a few hours.

A line of text appeared in front of the shadow: [The villain's name is omitted here to maintain suspense]

……

"Keep your ass on!" Yong grabbed his hair with one hand and a red pen with the other, and began writing rapidly on the ground with lightning speed:

Liu Tianyong didn't run away because he needed to find Wang Qiang, the person who should know the secret.

He chose to confront the chaos because escapism is not his narrative style, at least not today.

The words seeped into some unknown space, and the surrounding chaos subsided slightly. This inexplicable world gave way to a bit of logic in the space.

Yong quickly stood up and continued running.

When I fled just now, I didn't go very far, not even a short distance. Now, after running for so long, I still haven't gotten back to the company.

Liu Tianyong stared at the inexplicably stretched street and ranted in frustration. The words "[Narrative Pace Slowed Down]" were still displayed on the road surface.

What the hell is this "narrative pacing"?! The street scenes feel like environmental descriptions added by the author just to pad the word count. (Anyway, it wasn't me.)

No matter what, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and keep going. Yongge passed by a bank, and the ATM was automatically spitting out the words "Wealth Value".

An old man reached out and grabbed [Wealth Value +10000], then his hand began to glow, his skin changed color, and his smile froze. He was being rewritten into the role of a [Nouveau Riche].

"You old geezer! Let go of me!" Brother Yong shouted, but it was too late.

The old man has been completely transformed into a single line of text description: "[A wealthy elderly man, 69 years old, is currently smiling. His wealth comes from (to be supplemented)]"

Then it drifted away, becoming part of countless successful narratives.

Keep running, Dad. Yong didn't look a second time.

I passed a square, a place where the older women usually danced, but now it was packed with people, all writing. They were kneeling, crawling, writing on any surface that could be written on.

A middle-aged woman is using her fingernails to carve in the soil: "My name is Wang Lili. I have a husband and children. I work at a supermarket. I like..."

She forgot what was behind her, clutching her hair in anguish, and continued, "I like it, I like it."

"What are you doing!" Yong shouted.

Wang Lili raised her head, her eyes filled with madness: "I'm writing about myself! As long as I keep writing, I won't become just another nobody!"

"Stop writing the hell! Writing too much will turn you into a monster! Turn you into the kind of person they've created who just keeps writing!"

Wang Lili looked confused, then nodded, as if she understood and had been enlightened.

"And you? Why are you running? What did you write?" she asked.

"Fooling you! To be determined! See you tomorrow! Die another day! Wait!"

"Can this person survive?"

"For now, yes!"

Yong couldn't worry about anything else. He stood up and looked at the outline of the company building. "I have to go. I need to find someone. He should know how to prolong the temporary!"

"What if we can't find it?"

Yong paused for a moment, then wrote on the wall: [For Wang Lili, and for everyone who might see this]

If you can't find it, keep looking.

If you can't find it, write new content.

If you can't find it...

He deliberately stopped here, leaving it unfinished, creating suspense, and fooling people.

Behind her, Wang Lili stared at the unfinished line of text. "Just... just what?"

What?

This is the question, and this is the answer!

The company building still stands there, but its appearance has changed and been "stylized".

The exterior walls have been transformed into the cover of a hardcover book, featuring a gold-stamped "KD Buy It" logo, with the blurb "[Annual Blockbuster]" printed on the dust jacket and flowing text as a recommendation:

[A grand narrative about survival!]

[A masterpiece written with the authors' lives!]

[To be continued, stay tuned!]

Yong took a deep breath, not caring whether his tender lungs would explode, and rushed into Wang Qiang's office once again.

Editor-in-Chief Wang was still sitting in that rocking chair with his back to the door, writing something.

"Old Wang! What's going on here?! Tell me! You must know!"

Wang Qiang turned his head, the Song typeface, size 5, still scrolling in his pupils, "Keep writing!"

"What are you writing?" Yong was on the verge of a breakdown.

"Write what you see now, five hours into the apocalypse, a struggling writer stands in front of the editor-in-chief, who says, 'Keep writing.'" At this moment, Editor-in-Chief Wang actually laughed.

Having no other choice, Liu Tianyong had to follow Editor-in-Chief Wang's instructions, picking up the red fountain pen and writing a few lines in the air:

Liu Tianyong didn't know why the world had become like this, but Editor-in-Chief Wang must have his reasons for letting him continue writing, given how calm he seemed.

[Judging from the size 5 Song typeface in Editor-in-Chief Wang's pupils, he must be a super powerful boss.]

He asked me to write, so I did. Maybe after I wrote something, the world will become a better place?

The world is still in chaos, cities are still making choices, and people are still struggling.

The story, for now, is still ongoing.

[Content tentative]

[Next chapter, loading.]

After finishing writing, Liu Tianyong's vision went black and he fainted.