Chapter 428: Chapter 257 I Made It! (First Update)_1
After waking up, Kevin found the atmosphere around him had turned eerie again.
His office was surrounded by Angel Envoys, who still had expressionless faces, but their tones were filled with curiosity.
“Is this the NPC?”
“Worthy of Drey’s brother, seems like an important NPC too.”
“Has artificial intelligence beco so impressive that it can even write articles now?”
“And they’re surprisingly well-written at that.”
Kevin, puzzled, stood up and noticed the Angel Envoys around him gasping in amazent.
“He’s moving, he’s moving! He can move!”
“NPCs are supposed to move though.”
“True, but this feels different sohow.”
Finally, unable to contain himself, an Angel Envoy handed over a picture book and said, “Would you mind signing this for ?”
The Angel Envoys had new paper-making technology; this was not a surprise to Kevin.
What did surprise him was the quality of the book, but even more so that he was listed as the author, and the illustrator was Liuzi.
It was a children’s picture book; the five hundred words he had struggled to produce the night before had been illustrated and turned into a children’s book, which made Kevin marvel at the efficiency of these Angel Envoys.
After signing the book for the requester, Kevin asked, “Could I have a copy as well?”
“Of course, I have two,” an Angel Envoy imdiately squeezed forward. “You keep one, and please sign the other one for . I plan to see if I can take it back to Passport World as part of my collection.”
After signing his na for each of the Envoys, Kevin roughly understood why they were so excited.
The content of his picture book seed pretty good.
He too thought the content he’d produced looked quite nice, but he hadn’t expected it to be so popular.
And after the Angel Envoys had left, the children who had harshly ridiculed him the day before actually ca by, holding copies of his picture book and approached him.
The leading little girl, with sparkling eyes, excitedly asked, “Mr. Kevin…?”
“You were calling ‘Kid Kevin’ just yesterday.”
“That’s not important. What’s important is, did you really write the text for the picture book?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Then please sign this for too!”
“ as well!” another little boy blurted out excitedly. “I really like the Little Bear nad Winnie, his journey ho was so touching. I really love your picture book.”
The children’s behavior, a stark contrast to the previous day’s insolence, gave Kevin an imnse sense of satisfaction.
Happily signing autographs for all the children, he spent an afternoon giving interviews, feeling contented, he finally returned to his place.
In the double room, his roommate glanced at the beaming Kevin and teased, “You’re back, oh great writer of mine?”
“Don’t make fun.”
“I’m not making fun. Your work is now hugely popular. Everyone is talking about your new piece. You’re the first one to intertwine childhood innocence and reality so closely and harmoniously.”
“I’m not that great.”
“No, you are. Be proud for once. I think this might be the first ti you’ve been praised for sothing other than your noble status.”
Kevin was taken aback for a mont, then realized that it was indeed the case.
As a fifth-level noble, he lived amidst others’ praise, but those complints and adorations stemd from his status, not his talent.
He keenly recognized he had no real skills, yet was basking in everyone’s praise. Much of his jealousy towards Drey probably stemd from this, as the other could easily win what he himself longed for.
However, upon discovering his own talent for writing, especially for writing fairy tales, he felt his previous jealousy evaporate.
Reminiscing about that ti, he realized that Drey had taken good care of him. Drey hadn’t treated him as just a lord or sothing else; it seed he had actually seen him as a friend, opening his heart to him sincerely.
If only they had recognized each other sooner…
Letting out a long sigh, Kevin got dressed again, ready to go out.
Seeing Kevin’s urgency, his roommate asked, “Where are you going?”
“To write. I feel inspired.”
“Take care, and rember to close the door.”
Watching Kevin hurry off, the young man turned a page in his book and said with a smile, “Another comrade.”
The following days were a period of prolific writing for Kevin.
He transcended his forr identity, recalled his childhood, and with experiences interesting enough, he found the source of his inspiration, using mories of the past as ink to write about the fantasies of his childhood.
In “My Hamster Brothers,” he told the story of two hamsters, urging others to treasure their siblings.
In “Hotown’s Wheat Field,” he depicted his father, telling others to love their parents.
He even started writing short adventure stories—after all, he had seen real Ghosts, and the thrill of it remained, allowing him to use those feelings as a blueprint to write a series of adventure stories.
In his tales, a pair of siblings often erged as the protagonists of the adventures, one calm and composed, the other impetuous. Together, they’d outwit opponents and often co out victorious.
His short stories spread quickly, and so picture books even reached places beyond the prison.
So even regarded them as works of a deceased master of fairy tales. This brought Kevin a chuckle, but also a touch of emotion.
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