Suddenly, a cloud of smoke appeared in front of Arthur, who was still holding Bounciechomie close. The smoke smelled like... ink and stale coffee? From within the cloud emerged an old man with disheveled white hair, thick glasses, and a long beard. He wore a robe that resembled a graduation gown, though its origin was unclear.
With dramatic flair, the old man raised his hand, looking at Arthur with an expression that... wasn't entirely serious.
"Arthur D. Bump!" he declared, straightening his posture dramatically, only to cough as he choked on his own smoke. "I am... the God of Fiction, from the Web Novel Department!"
Arthur stared at the man, his face a mixture of confusion and suppressed laughter. "God... of Fiction? Wait, who?"
The old man brushed off his robe with exaggerated flair, trying hard to appear convincing, though not quite succeeding. "I am the one who brought you here! I'm the one who trapped you in the body of... ahem... Arthur D. Bump, a minor character with... let's say, minimal luck," he chuckled to himself.
Arthur gave him a skeptical look. "So, all of this is because of... your whim?"
"Don't call it a whim, boy! It's art!" the old man protested, wagging his finger with exaggerated seriousness. "You've altered the fate of this character, Arthur D. Bump, by rejecting Kaelthorn's offer of dark power. Because of that... I have a reward for you."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "A reward? Like compensation?"
The God of Fiction laughed heartily. "You could say that. But it's no ordinary reward. I grant you... SSS-Rank Slap Skills!" He spread his arms dramatically as if announcing the greatest prize in existence.
Arthur blinked. "SSS... Rank... Slap Skills?"
The old man nodded enthusiastically, like a game show host unveiling the grand prize. "Yes! Your slap will be so powerful it can knock out any enemy, even monsters! But that's not the best part." He tilted his head, a mischievous smile on his face. "The best part is... SSS-Rank Slap Heal!"
Arthur felt his head spin from all this. "Slap... Heal? You mean I can heal people... by slapping them?"
"Exactly!" the old man replied, winking. "Your slap can heal wounds, cure poison, even lift curses. All you need to do is slap the target with love, and... voila, instant recovery!"
Arthur glanced at Bounciechomie, who lay weakly in his arms, then back at the old man. "So... if I slap Bounciechomie now, it'll be healed?"
The God of Fiction nodded eagerly. "Absolutely! Go ahead. This is a slap filled with love!"
Arthur took a deep breath, then slowly raised his hand. "I'm sorry, Bounciechomie, but this is for your own good," he whispered.
SLAP.
He slapped Bounciechomie, sending its body bouncing like an anime girl's oppai.
"Bloop!" Bounciechomie squeaked, and within moments, its body glowed vibrant shades of blue and green. Its energy was restored, and it began hopping around Arthur joyfully, looking completely revitalized.
Arthur stared at his hand, still trembling slightly from the slap. He exhaled deeply, trying to process this bizarre situation. "Wait... so I really can heal things by slapping them?" he muttered, still in disbelief.
"Told you so! SSS-Rank Slap Heal! The cutting-edge healing technology of... fiction!" the God of Fiction laughed, stroking his beard in satisfaction.
Bounciechomie, now bouncing happily, stopped and nestled against Arthur's hand with its soft, gelatinous body, as if expressing gratitude.
"Well, at least you're not die," Arthur murmured, a small smile on his face despite the confusion still etched in his expression. He turned to the God of Fiction. "Alright, let's assume I believe you. But... why me? Why am I Arthur D. Bump? Why didn't I wake up in heaven? I... did die, right?"
Arthur stood frozen, trying to make sense of the absurdity. Before he could say anything else, the God of Fiction raised his hand, his expression growing more serious this time.
"Arthur, before you ask more questions about slaps or bizarre skills, I need to explain something far more important. The reason you're here..."
Arthur frowned. "Because I died in critical condition after being hit by a truck?"
The God of Fiction shook his head. "That's what you think. But in truth, you died because of something much more complicated. A force known as... the Uncommon Force."
"Uncommon Force?" Arthur repeated, puzzled.
"Exactly." The God of Fiction began pacing, his robe billowing lightly. "This force is an anomaly, something that transcends the logic of the human world. You, and countless other souls who died in 'uncommon' ways, were caught by this force. Instead of passing on to the afterlife or reincarnating as usual, souls like yours are transferred into various fictional worlds."
Arthur fell silent, then asked the question that haunted him. "So... I'm not the only one?"
The old man stopped and looked at Arthur, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. He seemed hesitant but finally smiled faintly. "Correct. You're not the only one."
Arthur swallowed hard. "Then... are there other souls who were sent to this world? The world I'm in now?"
The God of Fiction appeared startled by the question. He hesitated, then stroked his beard, looking uneasy. "Ah... well... let's just say I'd rather not answer that. If I did, it would be a spoiler, and as the God of Fiction, I'm strictly forbidden from ruining the story."
Arthur groaned in frustration. "So, you're more afraid of breaking spoiler rules than giving me a straight answer?"
The old man raised a finger in a warning gesture. "Spoilers are serious business, kid! But listen closely. Not all souls caught by the Uncommon Force end up here. Many are sent to other fictional worlds, each governed by its own department."
"Departments?" Arthur asked, confused.
"Indeed. I am the God of Fiction for the Web Novel Department. My primary responsibility is managing souls sent to worlds like this—web fiction worlds. But there are other departments. For example, the Anime Department," he said, pointing upward. "Those sent there often receive absurd powers and harems with zero logical explanation."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course."
"Then there's the Traditional Novel Department," the old man continued, "which focuses on serious worlds full of intrigue, drama, and often tragic main characters."
Arthur smirked. "Sounds delightful."
"And don't forget the Comic Department," the God of Fiction added, "which features visually stunning worlds, dramatic action, and universes fragmented into panels."
Arthur scratched his head. "So there's a 'god' for every type of fiction?"
"Exactly!" the old man exclaimed. "I'm just one of many gods tasked with overseeing souls like yours. This world is merely one of countless fictional 'canvases' where souls are placed."
Arthur thought for a moment, then looked at the God of Fiction suspiciously. "If that's the case, why am I here? And why did I become Arthur D. Bump? Why wasn't I sent to an anime world with OP powers and a harem like you mentioned?"
The God of Fiction chuckled. "Ah, that depends on compatibility. Each soul has a unique resonance with a particular world. You happened to match with this one because... ah, I can't say more without spoiling the plot!"
Arthur sighed, exasperated. "Spoilers again."
The God of Fiction smiled faintly. "Well, you'll find the answers on your own, Arthur. But remember, this is just the beginning. This world will challenge you more than you can imagine."
Before Arthur could reply, the old man slowly faded into smoke again, leaving one final statement echoing in the air.
"And don't forget... slapping is both your weapon and your salvation! Use it wisely!"
Arthur stared at the sky, exasperated. "This is officially the weirdest day of my life."