(So we're doing this again, eh, Author-san? Whatever, give me the damn script!)

I didn’t die. I didn’t get truck‑kun’d. I didn’t even get a heroic end in my past life!

I just woke up.

One second, I was a Chicago detective chasing a pair of thugs. Next, I was lying in a glowing summoning circle surrounded by robed strangers arguing about whether I was “their ideal weapon of mass destruction." (For the record: I was not.)

Turns out I’ve been isekai’d by the Worst Author Alive — a smug, disembodied menace who thinks “plot consistency” is optional and “character development” means bullying me for emotional reactions. He narrates my life like he’s speedrunning a first draft, and yes, I can hear him. Unfortunately.

The Author wants to railroad me into his “epic destiny.” So I do what any sane man would do: I ignore them all (at least I try to, don't tell him.)

The only person here who actually treats me like a human being is Veyra — a shapeshifting dragon princess with more scars than she lets on and a talent for calling me out when I’m being stubborn. She’s sharp, loyal, terrifyingly powerful, and somehow the only good thing the author created for me (don't give him that credit.)

Together, we’re rewriting this world one bad trope at a time.

If you like meta chaos, slow‑burn romance, emotional gut punches, and watching a protagonist bully his own narrator into therapy, then… welcome to my life. I'm basically Deadpool in this fantasy world.

Updates every Thurs / Fri / Sat. (Yes, even the Author manages to stay consistent three days a week. Miracles happen.)