Thank heavens, I actually managed to finish a volume despite unprecedented low pressure and a terrible state of mind, and it even remained above par.
What's more, this month's updates miraculously reached 120,000 words. I was back to the days of two updates a day!
Even I found it absurdly unbelievable.
And I had a strange illusion—somehow, in the middle of every volume, I always seemed to face the terrifying ordeal of having to revise the outline on the fly.
Sometimes it was because I had gone too wildly off the rails earlier and had to adjust the subsequent plot. Sometimes it was because of censorship sanctions and reality stabbing me in the back. This time, though... it was purely because the tone didn't fit.
Heaven bear witness, I originally wanted to insert the Hell Olympics in the middle!
Just imagine it: everyone bribing referees, taking dirty shots, stabbing people in the back, then fighting over gold medals. Hell marathons, septic-tank butterfly stroke, knife-mountain climbing, thirty-event ironman competitions... the fun would have been endless, and I could have drawn so much material from reality. How many terrible jokes could I have made!
But alas, the problem was that it seemed a little too fun.
So I could only cut it out with a heavy heart.
What a pity.
Still, I managed to finish a volume in the end. I successfully laid the groundwork for several key future plotlines and regained a little of the scant confidence I had left in my creative state, which had been on the verge of collapse.
It felt rather like surviving a brush with death.
I had to thank everyone for your support and trust, and also thank every reader who had kept up with the updates for your tolerance and encouragement.
As useless as