Chapter 60: The New Gate

[Long, long ago, in a prosperous and beautiful kingdom by the banks of the Seine, there lived a dark-horse prince and a snow-white princess, and they participated in a friendly hunting competition.]

Accompanied by a screenshot of the manuscript sent over, an editor whose contact remark read "Bright Fairy Tale Publishing House" typed out a hurried and tense reply:

"Up to the opening here, there is barely any problem."

Sitting in front of his laptop, Zhou Ke felt a surge of joy. Had a discerning talent scout finally recognized his ability?

"However," the editor abruptly changed his tone, sending over another screenshot, "explain this paragraph to me."

[The forest was surging with wind and clouds, and the battlefield changed in the blink of an eye! At a moment of extreme peril, amidst a thunderous roar, the dark-horse prince galloped out fiercely riding a Kawasaki H2 motorcycle!]

"Is there a problem?" Zhou Ke asked, puzzled after scrutinizing it for two seconds.

"There are tons of problems!" The text conveyed the editor's speechless frustration. "First of all, isn't this a medieval fairy tale? Where on earth did a motorcycle come from?!"

As if his endurance had reached its limit, the speed of his keystrokes grew increasingly rapid.

"And why write the brand of the motorcycle in such detail? Did you take an advertising fee from Kawasaki?

Besides, why is the dark horse prince's mount a motorcycle? Where is your actual black horse???"

Zhou Ke replied with a completely straight face: "'Dark horse' is an adjective. I deliberated on it for a long time."

"You certainly work hard to be a clickbait author, don't you?" Wiping the sweat from his forehead, the editor sent the disaster zone of this fairy tale manuscript for the third time:

"And the ending! What is this about the snow princess being unable to handle the blow of defeat, weeping bitterly and begging the witch to use magic to turn herself into a frog?! Is that necessary? It's just a hunting defeat!"

"And speaking of which, why are there only scenes between the prince and the princess as rivals, without a single shred of romance?"

Zhou Ke replied disdainfully: "Of course the prince and the princess are rivals. One wants to be king, and the other wants to be queen. If they aren't rivals, what are they?"

"So it turns out your prince and princess are even related by blood! Are you writing a heartwarming fairy tale, or a political struggle for the imperial succession?!"

By this point, the editor's face was flushed half-red and half-black, and his colleagues in the office watched in heart-pounding silence.

"In short, this 'The Hunting Mind War Between the Dark Horse Prince and the Snow Princess' will not be published for the time being. Go back and revise it slowly first."

Looking at the final piece of advice sent by the editor, Zhou Ke let out a familiar sigh: "Sigh, and yet I think I wrote it quite well."

"This was even adapted from real events during my Archmage examination. It should be totally fine."

Zhou Ke rumpled his unkempt black hair and slumped backward into the sofa, looking decadent and gloomy.

A full five days had passed since the end of the examination.

During these five days, Mr. Zhou had not stepped out of his house for a single step, devoting himself entirely to writing.

The result he got, however, was stern rejections from over thirty publishing houses. Truly a case of fighting and failing repeatedly, failing and fighting repeatedly.

Actually, it wasn't as miserable as described. In his past life, he had tried submitting to over a hundred publishing houses simultaneously, and even manually translated his work for foreign publishing houses, only for it to sink into the ocean with no echo.

To Mr. Zhou, this was merely a trivial everyday occurrence.

As long as he had inspiration, no matter how many times he had to revise a manuscript, he never grew tired of it.

"The scholarship for the provincial top scorer was distributed the day before yesterday. Was it fifty thousand or sixty thousand? Whatever, I don't remember clearly." Zhou Ke muttered while scrolling through his phone.

He didn't care much about the monetary figures; as long as he wouldn't starve to death, it was fine.

"At least I don't have to worry about making a living for the time being." Zhou Ke's face was the picture of boredom, occasionally letting out a chuckle or two when he came across a funny short video.

"It's just that my inspiration is running dry. I need to find a way to find some new ones."

He opened "Crime and Punishment" and glanced through it. The information on it hadn't changed much.

[Holder: Zhou Ke]
[Sin Level: Lv4]
[Unallocated Free Points: 0]
[Wrath Points: 166]

After clearing the [Gate of the Northern Dipper], his sin level had increased by one rank, and all the free points he obtained had been added to wrath.

As a side note, perhaps because Wu Bai participated in the killing of the Insect King, no points were awarded.

Putting away "Crime and Punishment", Zhou Ke reached his hand into the crevices of the sofa and fumbled around, pulling out a pitch-black key from god knows which corner.

This was precisely the [Ghost Key] dropped by the Headless Gentleman, identical to the bronze key that opened the examination door.

As for the hiding spot, it was extremely reasonable. After all, the sofa crevice was a hidden compartment that stored television remote controls, air conditioner remote controls, and various small items.

"Since I'm idle anyway, it's time to find some new inspiration."

Zhou Ke gripped the key with one hand, mimicking the motion Wu Bai used to open the door, infused his ether into it, and slid it down slowly.

Hum—

As if a curtain were being drawn back, a space colored like a starry sky manifested before his eyes.

Zhou Ke squinted, his front foot stepping in before he hesitated for a moment—not out of fear, but because of something else.

"What if a burglar breaks into my home while I'm inside?"

He thought about it and decided to first buy a voice-controlled speaker and smart curtains online, setting them up to automatically play ghost wails and continuously pull the curtains open and closed the moment any movement was detected.

This would create a supernatural atmosphere and scare away anyone trespassing on private property.

The security measures were thought out with meticulous care, though Mr. Zhou didn't stop to consider: aside from a laptop that was somewhat valuable, what else was there in his house worth anyone's attention?

To say nothing of committing theft, even a burglar breaking in would be stirred with compassion and leave two hundred yuan behind.

Perhaps even the [Gate] couldn't bear such pettiness. Before Zhou Ke could put his idea into action, a suction force generated from deep within the gate sucked him right in.

Afterward, the door seams fused back together, returning to silence.

[Welcome to the Gate of the Ghost Sheep]

The dizzying sensation of the world spinning faded from his brain, and Zhou Ke opened his eyes. Before him was a children's bedroom styled in pink cartoon aesthetics.

Why was he so certain this was a children's bedroom?

Aside from the small mini wardrobe and the plush toys scattered all over the floor, the primary reason was that the bed was simply too small.

It was only a meter and a half long; adults, or even teenagers, sleeping on it wouldn't even be able to straighten their legs.

"Isn't this that knocking hotel from last time?"

Zhou Ke pondered, subconsciously wanting to lower his head, when he suddenly felt a piercing, bone-chilling cold strike his neck.

"Huh?" He reached up and grabbed it, only to discover that at some point, his neck had been fitted with a constraint resembling a steel cable.

And even more terrifyingly—Zhou Ke's Truth had failed.

The moment his fingers touched the steel cable, Zhou Ke wanted to summon his Spirit Key, but it had no effect.

"Is this the influence of this room, or the influence of this steel cable?"