I'm Eddie Hamilton, and I live in my parent's house. They died five years ago, and thankfully, the house was not built with the need to pay thousands of dollars to maintain it every month. Hell, even the electricity bills and other bills were only a hundred US dollars.
Living in New York was tough, especially since it was the first capital city of the United States. Well, it wasn't now, but still, the cost of living was absurd. The rent of average people even surpassed my income!
Four hundred US dollars a month was small, but for me, it was sufficient. If only I had to limit my food intake, limit the use of lights only to my room, which, of course, the lightbulb should not take too many watts, and discipline myself from buying unnecessary things that were also considered a need so with all things considered, I could live in a first world country.
Speaking of money…
The only valuable thing I had was my laptop.
My laptop was bought with the money my parents left me. All of the money went into it.
Now, don't tell me I'm a fool or what.
Let me tell you why I spent six hundred dollars for a laptop that was more than adequate for me to live in a month.
I'm an avid reader of web novels, not traditional ones.
With how much I love reading, I tried to become an author but was demotivated by the lack of popularity.
Do you want to know what something it did not lack? The negative reviews of readers.
Leaving a review or comment they dropped a certain chapter they did not like.
It became the main reason I decided not to become an author, but still continued reading other works.
When I turned 19, I dropped out of college and decided to become an editor.
With my experience in reading and my preparation before I wrote my first work, it should be sufficient, right?
After all, there was no company that would love to accept me since I didn't have a diploma.
It's not like I want to edit their articles or anything anyway.
I could also apply to some team working on the manhwa translation team, but I don't want to.
I want to read web novels and, at the same time, enjoy my job.
So the only way was to work with amazing authors who needed an editor.
As a result, I decided to approach authors who needed to edit their work.
With how absurd the update schedule day by day, it was natural for them to have someone to edit, right?
Thus, I read authors' novels that needed editing and approached them by replying to their latest reply.
Offering my services, which was 3 dollars per 1 thousand words.
Most of them replied kindly, saying they were interested, but in the end…
I received no acceptance of my offer.
Yet, I was not discouraged.
Even though I did.
I needed an income for me to live since at that time, I didn't have parents and had to rely on myself.
That's why I bought that expensive laptop.
Hence, I worked with authors bitterly, who persuaded me to decrease my offer.
To 2 dollars per a thousand words.
I accepted because I grew tired of being rejected.
I once worked 7 hours a day editing their chapters.
When I meant "they," there were tens of them.
I worked ceaselessly, dark circles forming in my eyes, and then my health deteriorated.
In the end, the money I worked hard with ended up donating to the hospital.
So, I decided not to overwork myself.
Then, he came.
He was like an angel who extended his hand and smiled.
It was an unforgettable moment.
Furthermore, he was still not a top author at that time, so his work was barely entering the top 100 rankings.
But he offered me four hundred dollars a month in exchange for editing two thousand words every day.
To avoid wasting his trust, I was productive, diligent, and efficient.
And he was right that if it was not for me, his novel would not have attained the amazing feat that every author desired.
But as I stated earlier, I want to do a job and read for entertainment. But his work did not entertain me… A bit.
I became true to myself and gave him harsh criticism.
He shrugged it off and even laughed.
Even when I was angry by his response, I admired him.
If only I had the same attitude, I would have been an author right now.
Well, my perception of authors was quite exaggerated.
It was another reason why I gave up.
I treated authors as Gods and always believed they were.
After all, God created the world, right? Now, don't tell me authors who created their own world were not.
Of course, I'm not saying they could be compared to an actual god, but more like it was my level of admiration for them.
They create characters like a real person, having background stories that relate to us.
There were also the conflicts that taught us the real world, these cringe romance moments, and the drama that made us cry… even though it was not delivered perfectly.
Furthermore, the most amazing thing was… the world background.
How does it feel to live in a world where you can conjure fireballs or even manipulate the weather?
How does it feel to live in a world where you are noble, treated by others with respect, with their eyes conveying they were looking up to you so that they would not even bother to lower themselves and genuflect in your presence?
Where you are handsome, cool, badass, and have a harem of women that was depicted similar to an immortal with their unblemished jade-like skin?
Even if I could not be the main character, like hell I would want problems to come to me always, just a villain with a noble exalted background was more than enough.
Who possessed everything I wondered.
Hell, I even desired to become like them!
If that happened, I don't want to offend the main character and become his stepping stone.
I don't want to be a villain viewed by many as a loathing existence that needs to be purged.
There was only a single thing I wished for.
I only want to live a normal life…