The gloomy sky... City dwellers longed for that pure, unpolluted blue, but when they looked up, all they saw was dusty, polluted gray. Such a suffocating color.

"Just like my mood right now... ugh... er... Being sentimental in this environment is tough. A cold world... cold everything..."

Slightly overweight, he looked like a middle-aged uncle despite being only in his twenties. Glasses perched on his nose, he kept vomiting in this grimy back alley. The sour stench filled the air. After expelling undigested food and liquor, his body felt lighter.

He wiped his mouth haphazardly with his sleeve. No one noticed someone like him anyway. So what if it got dirty? It was nighttime... He’d drop it at the laundry later.

"What a bunch of asshole bosses... A ‘celebration’ for company growth? Just an excuse to make us juniors suck up and pay for their free feast... Hypocrites. Tch..."

Muttering nonstop, ignoring passersby’s odd stares, he trudged step by step toward home.

A four-story apartment building, built over a decade ago, stood slightly outdated.

He was 28 now. Most school classmates—though he had no true friends—were probably married. The rest chased careers. And him? Still a nobody, toiling and exploited.

How sad for the talentless...

Huh? His phone rang... What? So many messages urging a new chapter already? Exhausting... He just wanted to sleep. Especially today, in this mood—could he even write? But... though tired, he couldn’t refuse his lovely readers. Those cute juniors still in school... He just couldn’t say no.

Wait! I’ll update for you right away!... My sweet little ones...

Come to think of it, was that stuff really good? Back in school, he’d loved stories where heroes trained hard, delivered justice, crushed the Demon King for revenge, ruled the world, and brought happiness... But reality’s cruelty had derailed him.

He craved being a boss destroying the world, wiping out all its filth...

So embarrassing! Was this cringy fantasy fitting for a near-30 guy? What a shameless old rogue... Damn it~

Blushing, he flung open his apartment door, locked it fast, and flicked on the light. Ignoring the messy room, he kicked off his shoes—they slammed against the wall. He rushed to his desk chair, ignoring its pained groan, and booted up his computer. Shrugging off his coat, he waited for it to start.

This bespectacled, slightly plump guy was Ma Xiaoming. By day, a junior clerk at some performance firm. By night, an amateur web novelist... earning spare cash from writing.

He was also inexplicably sentimental... Don’t get it? Put simply: at 28, he still had a 14-year-old’s heart. That doomed him to sorrow... But would the story end here?

Heh heh heh... His tale had just begun... You ask who I am? How I know this? Because I am God... The God ruling this entire world...