He pressed “Save.”
When he opened his eyes again, he was beneath the moonlight in an unfamiliar forest. In his pocket were only a hot dog, a comb, and a leaky whoopee cushion.
And a piece of packaging folded into a little square.
Colored flecks of light were embedded along its edges. It was the thing he had shattered.
There were no save files in this world, no resets, no “try again.” Only ghosts, and people, and blood that had flowed without pause for four hundred years.
He had only been passing through.
But as he walked, some ghosts fell to their knees.
Some children grew up.
Some mothers lived to see their sons’ hair turn white.
He wasn’t a god. He couldn’t save everyone.
He was just a skeleton who took wrong turns, got lost, and stuffed random things into his pockets.
But as he walked...
Those flecks of light began to glow, one by one.
First of all, let me tell you about the description method of this book. It is similar to a description method in ancient China such as Water Margin. The articles you see every time, like the kind that describes the environment first and then narrates, are imported from foreign countries. The author's writing style is like a tree. Although there is not much description of the environment, it can be felt. It is narrated from the protagonist's perspective instead of starting from the description of the environment. It is not bad that few authors write like this.
Is it really you who wrote it∠( ᐛ ∠)_hhh
. Very good, five stars.
I feel like the writing is pretty good and pretty.
Beautiful, very beautiful, well written, sans, not OOC
This is awesome. I haven't read such a good book in a long time.
Life is full of regrets, and everyone's regrets are extremely important to them