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The Author's POV

The person whom the world revolves around. The person who defeats all of his opponents, and ultimately gets the beautiful girl. The sole existence all villains fear. That is the protagonist. What about me? As a failed author who had only one success throughout his whole career, I had reincarnated into my late novel. "This is it" I thought, as I tightly clenched my fist. Did I just get reincarnated in my own novel? Is this where I reincarnate in a novel and become the protagonist? No. Sadly it's not that kind of novel, as I reincarnated as a mob. The world doesn't revolve around me. The girls don't come flocking towards me. The cheat items don't come to me. "Phew" I let out a sigh of relief. "Thank god I'm not the protagonist" I joyfully shouted as tears streamed down my cheeks. Wait, are you curious as to why I don't want to be the protagonist? I did forget to mention the most important thing when I was describing a protagonist. That is... They are calamity magnets. I just died. If I learned something from that, it's that it really isn't a pleasant experience. If possible let me live a long stable life. Thank you, whoever reincarnated me. I would later come to regret these words... ======== Reader Disclaimer : Please read the *Read before reading novel* in synopsis. ======== Credit to _oinkchan for helping me find the previous novel cover Credit to Rengoku for his amazing edit of the new cover. ======== Discord : https://discord.gg/FNAKgfyky4 Patreon : https://www.patreon.com/TheAuthorPOV

Entrail_JI · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
864 Chs

Caïssa [1]

Sunday, Galxicus guild 80th floor.

It was the day after the battle between me and Alex had taken place. I was currently in my father's office.

Sitting on a large grey sofa, I took a look at the office.

On the opposite side of me, my father, working on a large rosewood desk, was busy compiling a stack of paperwork.

As he compiled the paperwork on the table, his pen would drift in swift and fluent movements across the papers on his desk.

He looked incredibly efficient.

Staring at my father's desk, at eye level, a group of papers, a stack of waiter pads, a portable laptop, and multiple monitors neatly stood on top of the large desk.

On the floor, below the desk, lied a PC tower that hummed quietly. On small occasions, blue light would twinkle on top of the PC tower signaling that its power was on.

On the wall to the right, post-It notes appeared on top of a wooden board with several labels and photos marked on it.