Chapter 73: It's Here! (3/4)

Chapter 73: They have come! (3/4)

"Do not sleep here, you will catch a chill."

"Very well, Grandfather, I understand."

"Once the clock strikes twelve at noon, go to my study and read some books."

"Very well, I understand."

"Mm, then I shall head to the church, the

To my surprise, you all trailed behind me, crouching low and matching my footsteps, moving in perfect unison with my rhythm.

"Where are you all going?"

"Aren't you the author leading the way? We are simply following you."

"But even I have no idea where I am headed."

"Then so be it, what's the big deal? Just keep walking. And by the way, could you pick up the pace every day instead of dawdling like this?"

Over the past few days, I have once again reflected and pondered at length. As this new book reaches four hundred thousand words, I feel as though I have finally caught a glimpse of the very thing I am pursuing.

That thing is, simply, a story.

I have always written from the perspective of a reader, relentlessly driving myself by a reader's standards to pen a book that satisfies my own tastes.

Therefore, a truly captivating novel is not bound by so many constraints, nor does it answer to any rigid rules.

Its sole requirement is to be a good read.

In my youth, I was genuinely enamored by the fractured humanity and jarring imagery of horror fiction; there was a genuine beauty in that.

When I wrote Midnight Bookstore, my mindset was that of a salted fish, merely wishing to prove my ability; once it hit the shelves, I simply flipped over to keep basking in the sun.

Writing The Devil's Descent felt somewhat like a man hitting middle age, stubbornly insisting on a touch of literary romanticism, a case of an old man indulging in a youthful madness.

As for this book,

I imagined myself settling into a chair, leaning back against the warmth of the fireplace with a book resting upon my knees, saying: Come, let me tell you a story.

Here, I must express my gratitude to my chief editor, Yisuo, and my managing editor, Zhusha.

Over the years, no matter what wild ideas I conceived or what I wished to write, my chief editor's reply was always the same: You are a genius; do as you please.

My thanks also go to the readers who have followed and supported me all this way. Without your companionship and encouragement, I could never have remained so entirely immersed in my own creative world. It is you who gave me this opportunity and provided me with these circumstances.

When the first chapter of the new book was released,

the bullet comments were flooded with messages: The Radio, the return of my youth.

In the blink of an eye, Hell's Cinema has already become a matter of five or six years ago.

The readers who once shared my obsession with that radio broadcasting atmosphere have likely graduated from university if they were in high school back then, and those who were in university might now have settled down and had children of their own.

How incredibly fortunate I am to have met you in this vast sea of humanity;

and how much more fortunate still that we can continue to walk this path together.

At midnight tonight—though it might be delayed by a few minutes—

The 13th Member of Mink Street officially goes live!

Ah,

I truly cannot bring myself to utter any grand, rallying cries or deliver hot-blooded speeches anymore, for that hardly fits the style of an old grandfather telling stories by the hearth.

He would only say:

Well then,