Eating Melons in the Police Station - Chapter 44

Four years ago, after a night of drunkenness, she had a relationship with a stranger and fled in panic upon waking up. Four years later, she returns with a soft, cute little bun by her side.“Bad uncle, you're not allowed to bully my mommy!”The man looked at the little bun, who was not even tall enough to reach his waist, and gave a charming smile. “Shouldn't you ask your mommy why you look exactly like me?”

The Apocalypse descended as the world turned into a game. And while everyone panicked, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something wrong with my eyes.[Logging into the Game Master’s Account!]And my ‘oh-so-average’ destiny, changed into ‘is this a cheat life?’ Kind of destiny.[Would you like to Create a Skill? GM Points will be consumed!]While others struggled to kill a single goblin, I was searching for stronger monsters. While they were happy with getting even a random weak skill, I was customizing what kind of skills I needed.Even my Talents and Gifts can be customised. The only limit was my imagination.Heck, even the hidden quests that people would trigger randomly were present in front of me even before the scenario began.It wasn’t fair by any means. But isn’t that how life is already?[Would you like to make changes to the quests in the next scenario? GM Points will be consumed!]Is this how an apocalypse is supposed to be? I don’t know. I just tried following the script in front of everyone while trying out my cheat in hindsight. Don't get me wrong with the ‘pig eating tiger’ kind of thing. I just don’t like attention. I would rather stay with two trusted friends than with 10 fake ones.[Would you like to Initiate a Custom quest for the Players? GM Points will be consumed!]And for the players who were bullying the ‘weak’ me. One may even wonder how they ended up losing half of their stats and skills in a randomly triggered impossible type of quest.Fate can be truly scary, you know?One must always be careful of it.

Perhaps the paintings in a museum are subjected to more nonsense than you would hear anywhere else in the world.The language that comes out of an artist’s life is the painting itself. It contains the most ordinary lives that know failure, desire, recoiling in fear, and compromise.Learning is about understanding that language. We miss much of what the paintings speak because there is no way to ask the long-dead painters about the philosophy of their lives.In an alleyway in the residential area of Jongno, there’s a peculiar art gallery. This place enables us to transcend such limitations. By sheer coincidence, I ended up visiting that place and began living an entirely different life.

Year 2056, in a city in the Yuan Jiang Su Jin area. On top of a ruined, shattered six story residential apartment sits a teenager wearing a combat vest, militaristic trousers, and alloyed battle boots. On his back is a hexagonal shield and equipped is a blood-shadow battle knife. He sits there silently on the edge of the roof. At this time, the sparkling sky was shining and there was a refreshing breath within the air that blew towards him. However, there was only silence within the ruined, deserted city, with an occasional howl that makes your heart skip a beat.