The world has turned into Hell's Game, why should I stay human? Chapter 218 - 217 Isn’t this the novelist? So flashy after j

The woman in the ceremonial gown imdiately lowered her head.

Liu Zheng also withdrew his gaze.

"Senior, shall we go in?"

The novelist took the initiative to link her arm through his tentacle.

"Sure."

Liu Zheng nodded and stepped forward.

The novelist looked up at him, but suddenly turned around.

The eyes of the driver t hers in the air, and after an invisible collision, his figure flickered montarily.

"What a formidable woman."

The driver retracted his gaze.

The young man sure is lucky, just not adept at enjoying his good fortune.

He shook his head and started the engine.

"What’s wrong?"

Noticing the novelist shudder suddenly, Liu Zheng looked down and asked.

"It’s nothing, senior."

She shook her head.

"All right."

Since she would not say, Liu Zheng did not ask further.

The two arrived at the entrance of the club, where an attendant blocked their path.

"Welco to our esteed guests. May I know if you wish to participate as Spirit or as a novelist?"

The attentive waiter asked politely.

"Spirit?"

Liu Zheng looked toward the novelist.

"That was a pen na I used before, senior."

The novelist explained.

"Oh. Is there a difference between the two identities?"

He asked.

"The Writers’ Association has categorized literary works into many fields, and a writer’s one pen na can only correspond to one field, enjoying the achievents and treatnt within that realm,"

the waiter explained proactively.

"I see."

Liu Zheng nodded.

He said nothing, leaving the choice to the novelist herself.

"I wish to participate as a novelist."

After a mont of silence, the novelist said through clenched teeth.

"Very well, here are your passes. Please take them."

The waiter took out two gray quills and handed them to the pair.

The novelist pinned the quill on her chest, and Liu Zheng followed suit.

"Please."

The waiter made way, and beyond the door was a resplendently golden hall.

However, when Liu Zheng stepped through the entrance, what his hooves touched was not a soft carpet but hard stones.

And what t his gaze was not any banquet hall but a colossal circular structure.

In the center of the building was a large plaza, surrounded by tiered stands.

The stands were supported by three layers of concrete, cylindrical arches, dozens of arches every layer, forming three rings of walkways at different heights, and the topmost layer was a solid wall dozens of ters high.

This edifice was so grand and filled with a classical aura.

And Liu Zheng just happened to recognize this structure; in reality, it was known as the Ancient Roman Colosseum.

The gray quill suddenly stood upright, pointing in a direction.

Gauging that it was showing them the way, Liu Zheng led the novelist following the direction the quill indicated.

They quickly found their spot.

To be exact, it was a spot, as they had no seats.

Similar to the seating arrangent of modern concerts, the closer to the front row in the Ancient Roman Colosseum, the more prestigious the position.

And the spot for Liu Zheng and the novelist was at the very top tier—the area reserved in Ancient Ro for the lowest mbers of society, such as won without status, slaves, and the poor.

He glanced at the novelist, who showed no particular emotion on her face.

But compared to the smile she had upon eting, this expression already spoke volus about her mood at the mont.

"Why is there no one here? Did we co too early?"

Liu Zheng started a conversation.

"They have already arrived; they just beco visible when the ti cos,"

said the novelist, shaking her head.

"I see."

He glanced at his phone. Five minutes to go.

"By the way, I have a gift for you."

He pulled out "The Editor’s Book of Insights" from the system space, and a keyboard mat from the delivery box.

"This is..."

The novelist received "The Editor’s Book of Insights" with a look of surprise in her eyes.

Even for soone of her level, it was an exceedingly rare and valuable item.

To obtain it, rely having power and money was insufficient; one also had to et very stringent conditions.

She had once seen it at an internal auction organized by the Writers’ Association, and the final price had astonished even her.

And now, Liu Zheng was giving it to her as casually as one would offer a cup of coffee.

And then there was the keyboard mat.

The novelist caressed its silky surface; the texture was incomparably smooth.

The silk products from the Spider Clan counted as luxury goods throughout tropolis.

"Senior, do you know their value?"

The novelist asked.

"Not really. Do you like them?"

Liu Zheng replied with a question.

"I like them very much."

The novelist replied.

"Oh, that’s enough."

He nodded.

"Hmm."

The novelist looked up at him, her gaze tender.

Such an Azasyan senior... it seed a bit of a waste to just eat her.

"Ding!"

A huge bell suddenly rang out throughout the arena.

With the bell’s sound, nurous figures suddenly appeared in the previously empty stands.

So were human, and so were not.

So took human form, and others did not.

So didn’t even have complete bodies, just a hand, or a mouth.

But they all had one thing in common, and that was a quill pinned to their bodies.

The quills in the front row were platinum, the second row’s quills were gold, the third row’s quills were green, the fourth row’s quills were red, the fifth row’s quills were white...

All the way up to where Liu Zheng and the novelist stood at the very top level, their quills were grey.

Contrary to Liu’s expectations, the attendees at the top level were the fewest, only a sparse few dozen.

As a result, they beca the most conspicuous presence in the arena.

Liu Zheng noticed that at least a hundred gazes were sizing them up, filled with unfriendly implications.

"Why are there so few people at the top level?"

He asked in a low voice.

"These salon dance parties have a high threshold for entry, and top-level authors like us normally wouldn’t qualify to attend. Only with a special invitation from the association."

The novelist explained.

"I see. Then the person who invited you had no good intentions."

Liu Zheng comnted frankly.

If it were a true novice author, it would be an opportunity, but for novelists like her who had success but failed to transition, it was a naked insult.

"Yes, and I couldn’t refuse. It’s just that I’ve dragged the senior down with , to be humiliated together."

The novelist said with an apologetic tone.

"What’s the big deal?"

He waved his hand dismissively, showing he didn’t care.

It was rely a punishnt to stand; calling it an insult, or even targeting, was an understatent.

Back when he had to eat shit in the sewer...

Well, best not to think about that.

"Welco, authors, to this salon dance party. I’ll be your host, ’The Fool’."

A beam of light shone from the void, illuminating a cat in a suit and top hat.

It was sitting up on its hind paws, with a microphone in its front paws, looking both ridiculous and cute.

As it finished speaking, enthusiastic applause imdiately broke out in the arena.

Liu Zheng also clapped along with the crowd.

"This is a god-level writer in the field of novels, and last year’s tropolis best-selling novel ’Amon and His Monocle’ is its work," the novelist whispered an introduction to him.

Liu Zheng nodded to acknowledge the information, but didn’t take it to heart.

Even in his web novel writing days, top authors like that had no connection to him, let alone now that he was just a delivery guy.

"In the first half of the year, our mbers of the Writers Association provided plenty of spiritual nourishnt for the citizens of tropolis and solid support for tropolis’s order. The City Hall sent a letter of comndation and awarded us for our efforts."

"As per the old rule, we will have a contest as an appetizer before the dance party starts, and the City Hall’s award will serve as the prize for the contest."

"The thod of competition will be decided by a random draw on the spot, later."

"But now..."

The Black Cat paused, then looked around at the audience in the various rows of the arena.

It wore a smile on its lips, and its gaze was calm.

However, the authors it looked upon all beca serious.

After all, this was a top author in the field of novels.

If limited to the recent few years, calling it the number one in novels wouldn’t be an overstatent.

"I know, we writers usually like to stay at ho and aren’t fond of socializing."

"So, before the contest begins, I’ll give everyone fifteen minutes to mingle."

"Alright, don’t be shy, let’s get started."

Having said that, the Black Cat took the lead and went to the first row of the audience.

With its lead, the atmosphere in the arena also grew livelier.

So left their seats to find acquaintances, while others started chatting with the authors nearby.

"Are you going to look for people you know?"

Liu Zheng asked.

"No need, senior."

The novelist shook her head.

She had no contacts in the field of novels, and short stories were a thing of the past.

But while she didn’t seek out others, soone else sought her out.

"Isn’t that Izanami? How co a few days have passed and you’re only standing at the dance party?"

A shrill, cutting voice rang out from behind Liu Zheng.

He swiftly turned around, yet didn’t see the person who spoke.

It took two minutes for the speaker to languidly approach them.

It was a woman dressed in a five-colored dress, with a face as round as the full moon, thickly plastered with white makeup, and lips reddened with an unknown blood, fierce as a demon.

Her long hair fell like a waterfall to the ground, while her eyebrows were re dots, like two beans.

Of course, you couldn’t say she was ugly, just not to Liu Zheng’s taste.

Noticing his subtle look, the novelist revealed a satisfied expression.

The Twelve-Colors Lady also noticed Liu Zheng’s gaze and glared back at him.

In a trance, Liu Zheng thought he saw two demon horns, one green and one red, burst out from her eyes and lunge toward him.

As the two demons caught the wind, they grew to the height of a two-story building by the ti they reached him.

One held a mallet, and the other an iron hamr, and they slamd down on him fiercely.