The Founder of Diabolism - Chapter 48

My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.

Seojin transmigrated into the novel named ‘777: The Crowned Sovereign’ as Seven, a side character.Here, he was the seventh child of the seventh archduke of the seventh kingdom of the seventh continent.On Earth, he was raised by his seventh stepfather and the child of the seventh ex-wife of the seventh mayor. He even had his seventh maid quit the job.He was also the seventh reader of the novel he transmigrated into.[Welcome, Seventh Reader! Your loyalty has been awarded.]With this many sevens, will he curse it as an unlucky number or… praise it seventy seven times?…Note: The author is a complete newbie and this is the seventh draft. Please don't expect this as such a grand story.Thanks. Merci. Danke. Bedankt. Terima kasih. Gracias. Salamat.Congrats! You just learned how to say ‘thanks’ in seven languages! ;P

Jianjing was reborn into a parallel world and became a genius novelist.Or rather, the soon-to-be deceased young genius novelist…[System Warning]: You committed su*cide, estimated time of death in 10 minutes.[Mandatory Mission]: Escape from the enclosed room.[Reward and Punishment]: Successful escape means the author continues the story, failure means the story is abandoned.Jianjing: WTF?!System: This is just the beginning, face the storm ahead!Jianjing’s view of herself: An ordinary bestselling novelist.Others’ view of her: “Novelist Detective”, “Honorable Citizen for Bravery and Justice”, “Police Consultant”, “Surprise Guest for Horror House Shows”, “Human Representative Against Unknown Creatures”…