Jason opened his mouth wide as a small yawn narrowly escaped from his grasp. He moved his hand to cover the lower part of his face and drowsily stood to go turn off the light switch. He walked over toward his bedroom door, a flicker of gold and red appearing in his peripheral vision.

'I wonder if I'll ever get used to this,' he thought to himself with a smile.

He stared at his diploma in a daze for several more minutes and released a heavy sigh.

'I supposed this means I'm an adult now, right? But what do adults even do?'

Grabbing his computer, the black-haired teenager aimlessly scrolled through the Featured page of his online reading app and scratched his chin. It was a nasty habit he had acquired during elongated periods of boredom, but as he continued to spin the tiny wheel on his mouse, his eyes suddenly caught sight of a vivid cover filled with many attractive females.

"Action. Harem. Weak to Strong," he whispered gently to himself. "Well, this seems like an interesting read."

He glanced at the title and chuckled before reading the first chapter of "The Farmer that rules that world."

"The Isles of the Gods are the wondrous domains of the gods, full of luscious green grass, heavenly skies, unique beastkin, handsome men, and beautiful ladies. Each person is born with a natural fighting talent that is ranked from S, A, B, C, D, and F and magic power that is ranked in circles from 0 to 10.

Oh did I already mention the beautiful ladies?" the author continued. "Well...anyways, our main character Bob is a poor farmer with an F ranked affinity for fighting and 0 magic circles. Though he was not born with many fighting skills, Bob was very handsome, and because of his half-Elf genes, he attracted the envy of many.

For the past twenty years, he had been bullied, teased, and beaten by his town's so-called 'prodigies and masters.' One such prodigy was an apple-thrower, who could throw 3 apples per second! As Bob was taking damage, a chunk of the apple flew back at the prodigy, and that's when he realized that he could reflect 10% of the damage he took!"

Jason leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs.

"Man…what kind of bullshit is this? The author clearly has an elf fetish, and this trope is starting to get really boring."

He sighed in disappointment, his frustration building as he scrolled farther into the book.

"I swear I've seen this exact carbon copy hundreds of times before. Farmers in another world. Chefs in another world. Construction Workers in another world. Who the hell actually comes up with this shit?" he cried soulfully.

His hand instinctively continued to scroll, but the next two chapters only irked him more.

"What a pathetic main character," he said with a sneer. "How does anyone even get beaten by an apple-thrower? If I were the main character…"

He paused and wondered what he would do if he were the main character and gently rubbed his eyes.

From a young age, he had always loved to read novels and short stories, but the world of web novels was just...different. It was enthralling.

He couldn't explain why they were so captivating and intriguing to read, but he did know that he was obsessed. The escapism of the different realms, the power fantasies that made him jump for joy, and the heart-breaking love stories that made him weep behind his door alone had captured the heart of the black-haired teenager over the years.

Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, Jason glanced upwards and prayed that the author would redeem himself in some kind of way. He continued reading up to Chapter 50, but the gods never answered his prayers.

He clicked his tongue in disappointment and glanced at the ticking clock above his desk.

"Give me back my four hours, you filthy scoundrel," he fumed as he slammed his fist against the table.

The black-haired teenager swiftly clicked back to the first chapter and began to type a few angry words.

"How dense is this main character? Is it even possible not to notice ten girls jumping around you, asking you for hugs? Why does he just keep looking at his sheep!" he angrily commented under a chapter.

"How do people believe in a religion as stupid as this? If they already have magic, why would anyone believe in the God of Skin Lotion? And then why does every character seem to worship this cult?" he wrote under another.

Like this, the angry reader typed "critiques" late into the night as the sun set gently and the moon peered its head over the horizon. Several hours passed quickly, and at long last, he closed his laptop and stretched his arms toward the sky.

Jason squeezed his eyes shut, relaxing them after hours of intense labor, and pushed the pressure points on his nose. The early morning birds had begun their ritualistic chirping outside his window, and the black-haired teenager knew his body was begging for sleep.

"I'm too old for this now," he said with a chuckle as he tossed himself onto the bed.

He stared blankly at the ceiling, counting sheep, and within an instant, his body slumped against a soft feather white cushion.

—

Jason awoke to the blaring noise of his alarm the next day and slowly rolled over to his side.

"Honey!!" a sweet and caring voice shouted from below.

"Yes, Mom!" he replied. "I'm coming…"

He quickly brushed his teeth in a daze and grabbed the stair railing as he slowly took step after step toward the dinner table.

"Good morning," he said politely, rubbing his eyes.

"Don't be late to your workout session, sweetie," his mother said with a smile. "Your father and I paid a lot for it, and well...you kind of need it right now."

"Yeah, and you won't be getting any girls with your face alone," added his dad.

"Stop it, guys," Jason whined. "I know. I know. I'll get out of the house more."

As the hate reader grabbed his bag and set off to the gym, ready to make the greatest transformation of his entire life, a golden apple plummeted from the sky, sending him straight to the gates of Heaven.