A couple decides to marry each other only after meeting once at a marriage interview. Although they are both very well established in their careers deep down they are both perverts. Now The rest is all upto you to imagine and read in the chapters to come.

Gun-Ho came back to Yangju and went back to his work at Bangil Gas again.
Once sales were made, Gun-Ho issued electronic tax invoices and added earnings and expenses to <Daily Earnings and Expenses> table in Excel, and then reported it to the owner.
 
Gun-Ho made sure to collect all receipts of every business expense incurred and attached them with glue to the back of an expense form he had purchased from a stationary store in order to properly document them. If there was a client with an outstanding balance for LP gas, Gun-Ho would make a collection phone call to that client as well. He also ran errands for the owner.
"Years of my life will go by like this?"
Gun-Ho was barely making a living; he felt anxious about getting old without saving money.
"It's Wednesday and I don't hear anything from that company in Asan which I had an interview with."
Gun-Ho was constantly checking his smartphone to see if there was any text message from the company. He increased the ringtone of his phone to make sure he didn't miss any calls. There was no phone call, let alone any text message.
"I don't think I got the job. Let's just move on; it is a lost cause. So many smart people are out there. I can't compete with them with my rubbish work experience and qualification. I just have to appreciate the opportunity for having a job interview with them."
Friday came around after Wednesday and Thursday. Gun-Ho gave up on getting a position in the company in Asan. He once again started looking through the newspaper classified section and WorkNet; however, there was no job advertisement which drew Gun-Ho's attention.
"The companies posting a bookkeeper job opening in a newspaper classified section will hire a female, not me. If they hire a male for the job, that's probably because the position is half bookkeeping and half irrelevant chores."
After work, Gun-Ho usually surfed the internet on his laptop in dim light or he went to the PC room in the neighborhood. He felt like he was falling so much farther behind in life compared to his high school friends, which made him feel depressed.
"Won-Chul Jo who is now married should be doing fine, shouldn't he? Byung-Tae Hwang who is working in a research facility of a startup company in Pangyo is getting married soon. He posted about his wedding on Facebook but didn't personally inform me. He could easily find my phone number by contacting Won-Chul or the others."
Gun-Ho drank soju almost every other day, and that increased his alcohol tolerance.
"I am destined to live in the countryside. My life is f*cked up. I have ShinWangJaeWang fate? ShinWangJaeWang my a*s."
 
It had been more than two weeks since Gun-Ho had a job interview with the company in Asan. The memory of the interview was fading away when he received a phone call from that company, a very unexpected one at that.
"Mr. Gun-Ho Goo? How are you? I am the manager of YS Tech in Asan."
"Oh, hi. This is Gun-Ho Goo."
"I am sorry that we took a long time to contact you. You have been hired as our bookkeeper. Can you start on the 1st of next month?"
Gun-Ho came to his senses by this unexpected and sudden phone call.
"Oh, of course, sure. I… I can."
"You have only five days left until the 1st of next month. Can you manage to quit the current job and start a new job with us within five days?"
"Of course, of course. I can certainly do that!"
"Let me tell you then what to bring on your first day of work. You might want to get a pen and a paper."
"Yes, I am ready."
Gun-Ho was so perplexed that he dropped his cell phone while looking for a pen and a paper, and stumbled over the computer power cord.
"You should bring a resident registration, a resident registration abstract showing the status of your military service duty, your highest school diploma, Consent to Collect and Use Personal Data, Identity Assurance Statement, and a work experience certificate letter from your current employer. I will send the forms for the Consent to Collect and Use Personal Data and Identity Assurance Statement to the email address indicated on your resume."
"Okay. I will prepare all those documents and bring them on my first day of work!"
"You can come by 8 AM on the 1st next month. I will see you then."
"Thank you. Thank you."
Gun-Ho felt so grateful to be hired by this company that he repeated "thank you" twice.
"I got it! I got the job!"
Gun-Ho clapped. He felt like he could fly.
"By the way, why did they call me just now? They said they would contact me by last Wednesday."
Gun-Ho sat on the chair and started thinking.
"I guess that the person they hired decided not to work with them, so they hired me instead as a substitute. Of course, I can't be their first choice. Well, they hired me anyway. Let's move to Asan."
Gun-Ho stopped by the Eunhyeon Township Office to get the resident registration and the resident registration abstract on the way to work after collecting bills.
"I can get my college diploma online, but what about the work experience certificate letter? There is no such thing in Bangil Gas. Well, I can find some samples on the internet and make one for me."
After he returned to the office, Gun-Ho drafted a work experience certificate letter referring to some examples he found on the internet.
"I need the boss' stamp to officially seal this letter… I have his stamp for the tax invoices stamping purpose; should I just use it?"
Gun-Ho thought he still should ask the owner for it.
"When he comes back from the gas pipe repairing work, I will carefully inform him."
A little after five o'clock, the owner came back to the office, looking exhausted.
"A*sholes! They tried to bargain for the repairing cost. I should have just left without fixing their pipes. Sh*t!"
The owner slumped down in his chair, looking really tired. Gun-Ho had to tell the owner that he would quit the job, but he couldn't because the owner seemed very tired.
"Gee, it is already half past five. Goo Jooim, you can go home."
Gun-Ho hesitated and the owner looked at him with a question mark on his face.
"What's the matter? Do you have something you want to tell me?"
"Umm… I am so sorry to tell you that I think I have to move to the city where my parents are."
"Why? Because your father is in the hospital?"
"My parents want me to come, and they are old now…"
"Hmmm…"
The owner looked very uncomfortable.
"I will have to find someone again. I really liked you here."
"Well, I've been thinking, and I think your wife can handle the work. You can save money that way."
"My wife? She doesn't even know how to work with a computer."
"She just needs to get the knack of it. She will become better and faster at the job after one or two months of practice."
"I know I can save money… But she always tries to argue with me whenever she is here in the office. That is the problem."
"Haha. That's because she likes you a lot."
"Well, I will have to think about it."
"I will work until the end of this month then."
"You leave that early?"
"My parents are pressing me."
"Oh well, what can I do about it."
"And once I move to the city where my parents live in, I might need a work experience certificate letter from this company."
"A work experience certificate letter? I've never done it before."
"I already drafted the letter. I just need your stamp. You can use the same stamp we use for tax invoices."
"Really? Then you do what you have to do."
"Thank you."
"Go home before it gets dark."
"Thank you."
Gun-Ho walked out of the office and turned his head to look behind him.
"Bangil Gas. I have so many good memories of this factory. The boss and his wife are good-natured people. Once I become successful, I will come and visit them."
It was getting dark; Gun-Ho drove to the Gwangjeok Township Office area where his room was located. He called the landlord to give him the notice to vacate his room.

This is the story of a poor young man whose poverty even shreds apart their family willing to climb his way through society and into the top. A very realistic novel that moves away from fantasy and sci-fi and focuses solely on the issues of society and life.

Tottenham Hotspur's fax on their acceptance of the offer from Nottingham Forest for Michael Dawson; the just-published copy of the Nottingham Evening Post, still with a whiff of a fresh-ink smell; and Martin O'Neill's handwritten resignation letter, were placed together on Evan Doughty's desk. His brain did not respond for a while.
The fax was sent to him by his secretary, Miss Lucy, along with a good-morning kiss. It was a close interaction that transcended the relationship between a club chairman and a secretary. The Evening Post was brought to him later by his old friend, Allan Adams. The resignation letter was personally delivered by Martin O'Neill. The man who wanted to resign was still standing in the room waiting for the club chairman's approval.
Two days had passed since O'Neill flew into a terrible rage in front of Evan Doughty.
The deal with Tottenham Hotspur to buy Dawson was in Doughty's plan. They bought a center back at the peak of his playing career at a low price. Evan Doughty thought it was a good deal and was feeling happy about the matter. While he was being naughty with his hands on Miss Lucy's body, Allan knocked on his office door with the newspaper, which startled him. If the affair between him and Lucy was exposed to his wife, his family would be torn apart.
Lucy opened the door for Allan after she had tidied her blouse. Allan watched with interest at the sight of swaying hips as she walked away. He handed the newspaper to Evan without saying a word.
Evan saw a picture of O'Neill on it, as well as an interview. The headline was striking and explained why Allan risked interrupting the couple's clandestine love affair to knock on his door.
"Martin O'Neill: I'm not happy here!"
Before Evan could figure out what he meant by being unhappy, O'Neill knocked on his office door.
When Evan was about to ask O'Neill what the interview was about, the other party had already placed something on Evan's desk.
"A resignation?"
Evan thought he had misread. He picked it up and glanced at it again. He looked up at the Northern Irishman standing in front of him.
O'Neill earnestly said, "I don't think I can carry out my plans and ambitions here. I don't get enough respect here, and you guys don't seem to need a manager. So, I think breaking up is the best solution."
"You can't do this!" Evan yelled out. He had no idea O'Neill would do this. He thought, How dare he resign! He had only been in the position for two months, and now he was going to quit... What do you take me, the club chairman, for?
"Of course, I can." As a senior manager who had been in English football for more than two decades, O'Neill was not stupid. He said, "In the contract we signed, you did not state how much money you would pay me if I were to be fired. So, I do not have to pay you money when I quit, Mr. Chairman. That's fair."
Since there was no need for compensation for default in the contract, O'Neill had no qualms left.
In fact, he made the decision to resign that day after he had the big blowout with Evan Doughty. That was why he came out with the big explosive news during the interview. He thought, Since I'm going to leave, who cares what you think of me? I have said everything that should and shouldn't be said. At least I have aired my grievances and vented my frustration!
"It's ... It's not about the money, Mr. O'Neill. You're the manager of the team. The league tournament is about to start, and you're resigning now..."
"I'm resigning now for the sake of the team. You still have time to find a manager. It's going to be hard if you wait until after the start of the league tournament, Mr. Chairman." O'Neill addressed him using "Mr. Chairman" each time, but it sounded more like he was giving a slap to Evan Doughty's face.
Evan Doughty was completely stunned by Martin O'Neill's show of determination. He had the letter of resignation in his hand as he looked at O'Neill with his mouth agape. He did not know what to say. Allan Adams sat on the couch without saying a word as if he were a spectator.
"I hope the club agrees to my resignation." O'Neill reiterated his intention in his meeting with Evan. "It is not possible for us to continue working together."
Under the current circumstances, what could Evan do if he did not agree? He finally paid the price for his own arbitrary actions. The manager, whom he had spent lots of effort hiring, had voluntarily resigned. It was like a loud slap to his face. Having lost two managers in a row in two months, perhaps he should think about whether the managers were too fond of power. Or, was he being too foolish?
After a moment's silence, Evan stood up and put his hand out to O'Neill. "Thank you for everything you have done for the club, Mr. O'Neill. I'll agree to your resignation."
O'Neill smiled and said, "Goodbye, Mr. Chairman." With that, he turned and walked out of the office without even giving Allan Adams, who was still sitting, a glance.
After watching O'Neill go out, Evan Doughty slowly sat down and looked at Allan Adams, who remained silent.
"Who should we look for now to be the manager?" Allan spread his hands and asked.
"Lord only knows," Evan mumbled weakly. Too much had hit him this morning.
"There are not many successful managers idling at home at this time. It is not a good time to find a manager..."
"We have to poach someone!" Evan suddenly got excited. "Poach a manager from the other clubs!" He balled up O'Neill's resignation letter and threw it in the trash can.
　　※※※
The players and coaches were even more taken aback than Evan Doughty. No one could believe it when O'Neill stood in front of them with a smile on his face and announced that he had resigned. They thought he was joking. The problem was that Mr. O'Neill was not someone who liked to joke. He and Tony Twain were different.
"Thank you for your support over the past two months." O'Neill smiled and said goodbye to the players. "Although I did not have a good relationship with the club's top brass, I had a great time with you. You've all been lovely. I'm proud to have once coached such a team, even though it was only for a short two months."
"I'm sorry I can't continue to lead you. I wish you all good luck."
He hugged and said goodbye to the assistant managers, fitness coach, goalkeeper coach, and First Team coaches one by one.
Kerslake was still in shock. Tony's gone. Now, Martin is leaving. What's happening? With them gone, what are we going to do? What about Nottingham Forest? Is a team that has just won the Treble going to disappear?
As he hugged O'Neill, he asked, "Are you resigning because of Tony, Mr. O'Neill?"
He was worried that Tony's influence was too great to allow O'Neill free rein in his job.
O'Neill shook his head and washed away "the unjust treatment" Twain received. He said, "It has nothing to do with him. I don't have a good relationship with the club chairman and business director, David. They have their standpoints, and I have mine. It is a pity that our standpoints are not in line. You're a good assistant manager, and you'll be a great manager in the future. Thank you for your help, David. When the new manager arrives, help him like you've helped me and Tony. Hopefully, he can make it here longer." He looked into the distance and softly sighed.
After he waved his last goodbye, O'Neill turned and walked away from the stupefied team.
The reporters who came when they caught wind of the news had already blocked the gate of the Wilford training base until it was impenetrable. The bunch of dogs had a real nose for news. He just had a showdown with the club, and they already knew. It was as if no secrets could be hidden from them.
When the reporters saw O'Neill emerge from the inside, they struggled to get away from the security guards and rushed up.
Countless microphones were extended under O'Neill's nose. The cameras were pointed at him.
"Mr. O'Neill, we heard that you have resigned? Is it true?"
"Manager O'Neill, can you tell me the reason for your sudden resignation? It's completely unexpected... You've only been here two months!"
"Hey, Martin! Martin! Is it true that you have a conflict with the club's top management? Can you tell us what kind of contradiction?"
"Did Pepe's transfer lead to your resignation?"
"Can it be due to Michael Dawson? Don't you like Dawson?"
"Tony Twain also suddenly left. Have you two been in touch? Does your resignation have anything to do with him?"
"Can you tell me where your next stop is?"
"Is Nottingham Forest club's top brass really interfering too much with the manager's job to sign players, like what you said in the interview?"
"Care to comment on Evan Doughty?"
"Has your resignation been approved by the club?"
Nothing else could be heard at the scene except for the reporters loudly asking their questions and the pressing of camera shutters. Everyone was shouting at the top of their lungs, afraid that O'Neill could not hear him in the crowd.
However, O'Neill was not in the mood to answer their questions. He stood in front of his car door and turned to the enthusiastic reporters to say, "I've received approval to resign. I have nothing else to say about the matter. I'm grateful to the people who helped me during the two months of coaching at the Forest team. In addition, I want to clarify that this has nothing to do with Tony Twain. The resignation is my own decision. It has nothing to do with anyone. If you want to ask anything else, please save those questions for the club. I'm sure they'll announce a press conference soon."
He pulled the car door open and got in. He closed the car window and started the car. He slowly drove out of the main gate surrounded by the crowd of reporters trying to chase and intercept him.
The reporters stopped chasing after a few steps. As O'Neill said, the club was bound to hold a press conference. Their questions would have to wait until then.
Pierce Brosnan did not expect O'Neill's decision to resign to be so firm and decisive. He watched the black car driving to the distance behind the crowd of people, wondering what Nottingham Forest's future held.
How did this happen? A dominant team that lorded over Europe and was famous for its playing prowess in the world had a massive turnover of people within two months. The team had been changed to the point it was unrecognizable.
If he had to trace the root of the cause, it looked like he could not avoid one person.
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Tony Twain's number.
　　※※※
When the cell phone, which Twain left in the downstairs dining room, rang, he was just going over the list of England registered players from the teams in the English Premier League in his upstairs study. One of the two 24-inch monitors connected to the computer was playing the video of a game. He needed to use the computer to cut and edit those video clips to make them into a collection for his own needs. He would burn it onto a CD-ROM, label it, and place it in its category in the cabinet. In that way, he would not be lost like a headless fly when he needed to check.
Staring at the television screen to study the game videos or reading notes and journals for a long time had caused Twain to be slightly myopic. He wore a pair of black-rimmed glasses. He looked up with concentration to observe the performances of several targeted players. When he needed to pay special attention, he would press the pause button and look down to record the time in the notebook, which made it convenient for subsequent editing.
He was so engrossed in watching the video that the first time the phone rang, he did not hear it.
When the sound disappeared, he suddenly realized something was ringing.
He listened with his head cocked but heard nothing. He shook his head and thought he must have been hearing things from being too busy. Just as he was about to continue working, the telephone rang again.
As Twain shuffled along in his slippers through the long second-floor corridor, around the circular staircase, and through the living room, the ringing stopped the moment he finally entered the dining room.
"Really impatient," Twain mumbled as he picked up his cell phone, wanting to see who called.
The caller's name showed up in the missed calls as 007.
Twain did not bother to key in some people's names. To him, English names were not as easy as Chinese names, so he would give a lot of people codenames. 007 referred to Pierce Brosnan because his name was the same as that of the famous actor, Pierce Brosnan, who played 007.
So, it was the Nottingham Evening Post reporter. Twain did not know why he called him. Just as he was hesitating whether to call back to inquire, the cell phone in his hand rang and vibrated again.
He finally pressed the answer button.
"Hey, Mr. Bond, why are you calling me at this time?" Twain asked as he leaned against the couch in the living room.
"I want to know the real reason you suddenly decided to leave Nottingham Forest." Brosnan got straight to the point.
The question made Twain's face fall. He never answered such questions, not even from Brosnan. "I'm sorry, Mr. Reporter. I don't want to answer your question. If you want to interview me, please make an appointment in advance..." With that, he was about to hang up.
That was when he heard Pierce Brosnan roared, "When are you going to stop hiding like a coward, Tony?"
Twain's hand was stopped short by the sudden roar. He did not hang up.
"Have you seen the news? Do you have a newspaper there? Is the TV on?" Brosnan loudly asked after he finished yelling.
"No." Twain looked around. The table was clear and had nothing on it. The television set was not turned on, and the screen was dark.
"I'll give you live coverage now," Brosnan fiercely said. This might be the first time he had spoken to the king of Nottingham Forest using that tone since he became a reporter. "Martin O'Neill has just tendered his resignation to the club, and I believe the club has agreed to his application to resign!"
Twain was stunned by the news. He thought he was dreaming, but the dream did not feel real.
Martin O'Neill had only joined the team for two months. Why did he quit?
"If you still care about Nottingham Forest, you must know why! Evan Doughty and Allan Adams kept O'Neill in the dark and reached an agreement to sell Pepe to AC Milan. Then, they hid the fact that they were signing Michael Dawson from him. Even though the media had called Dawson's arrival as a 'homecoming,' it violated O'Neill's authority. So, he quit! It's as straightforward as that... Now, tell me, why did you decide to not renew your contract? Did you lose faith in the club's top brass, just like O'Neill did? Tell me, Tony!"
Twain was silent for a moment and did not answer.
"Very well, I know what's on your mind. You're worried about causing an upheaval in the team when you say it, aren't you? You're really stupid, Tony. All clubs are like this. Turmoil is not something that can entirely be foreseeable. Martin O'Neill has resigned, and Şahin is transferring to Bayern Munich. Do you think the team you've built up with so much effort can still be kept intact? The players have already lost faith in the top echelons of the club. Did Pepe's departure not clarify the issue? He was the most loyal player!"
"Do you still love the team? Do you still miss every day and night of the past 11 years? Don't you feel hurt that they treated you like that in the Crimson Stadium? Don't stay silent, Tony."
　　※※※
Pierce Brosnan was leaning against his car outside the gate of the Wilford training grounds when he called Twain. The reporters around him were almost gone. There was no one to bother him no matter how loud he shouted at the phone. He was treated as a regular reporter asking for enough space from the bureau.
"Don't stay silent, Tony! Tony? Tony... Hello? Hello!"
After vehemently spouting so many words for a long time, Brosnan found that the person on the other end of the line had cut off the call.
"What the damn hell!" He was so angry he kicked the wheel of his own car. The car alarm sounded, which startled him.
"Assh*le!" Brosnan hurriedly touched his car key to turn off the car alarm. He felt that it was a truly lousy day.
It was reasonable to say that since he was a reporter, he should not have thought so. What happened should have fired him up and made him want to rush back to start writing the article so that he could post the news before everyone else.
Instead, he felt terrible about the matter as a huge Nottingham Forest fan.
He leaned back on the car and looked at the Nottingham Forest emblem on the facade of the Wilford training base's entrance in a daze.
　　※※※
Twain walked back to his study and stared blankly at the video of the game, which had been paused on the computer screen. Coincidentally, he was watching a video of Nottingham Forest's game last season. The man in the video was Aaron Mitchell.
He found himself completely not in the mood to sit down and work. He suddenly wanted to listen to some music. Perhaps music could soothe his fidgety heart.
He turned on the stereo and returned to the computer amid the sound of the music. The wonderful music still could not settle his heart. Something was stuck in the chest and wanted to rush out.
He sat down and turned off the video of the game. He opened up a Word document. He thought he should write a column for the Evening Post. Since the World Cup, his column had gone quiet.
Now, he was going to write. He had a lot of things to write about. He was going to rebuke some people. He wanted to ridicule, vent, and destroy some things. It was the only way the future could be rebuilt.
Amid the sound of continuous tapping on the keyboard, the voice of James Blunt sang:
"You're beautiful, you're beautiful, you're beautiful, it's true... But it's time to face the truth, I will never be with you...[1]"
________________________________________
[1] An excerpt from James Blunt's song, "You're Beautiful."


This is a story about the pursuit of victory.

— "I subscribe only to the theory of victory. I only pursue victory. As long as I am able to obtain victory, I don’t care if it’s total football or counterattack. What is the ultimate goal of professional soccer? In my opinion, it is victory, and the pinnacle of victory is to become the champions. I am a manager. If I don’t wish to lose my job or be forgotten by the people, there’s only one path for me to take, and that is to lead the team in obtaining victories, in obtaining championship titles!”

The main character was not well-liked by people.

— “⋯We conducted a survey which had been deemed by Manager Tony Twain as extremely meaningless. In a random street survey conducted, ninety-three percent of those surveyed chose the option ‘I hate Tony Twain’, while only seven percent chose the option ‘This person is rather decent, I like him’. It is worth noting that nobody chose the option ‘Who is Tony Twain? I don’t know him’. Mark, do you know why Manager Twain felt that our survey was very meaningless?” Parker, a reporter from <The Daily Telegraph> laughed loudly and said when he was being interviewed by BBC.

But there were also people who were madly in love with him.

— “⋯ Became the spokesperson of world-wide famous clothing brands, shot advertisements, frequented the fashion industry’s award ceremonies, endorsed electronic games, has a supermodel girlfriend. His earnings from advertisements exceed his club salary by seventeen times, owns a special column in various print medias, publishing his autobiography (in progress), and is even said that he is planning to shoot an inspirational film based off his own person experiences! Who can tell me which part of his life experiences is worthy of being called ‘inspirational’? Hold on⋯. Are you all thinking that I’m referring to David Beckham? You’re sorely mistaken! I’m talking about Manager Tony Twain⋯.”

He was very knowledgeable about Chinese soccer.

— “⋯ I’ve heard about it, that Bora gifted four books to his manager Mr. Zhu before your country’s national team’s warm up match. After which, the team lost 1:3 to a nameless American team from Major League Soccer. The new excuse that Mr. Zhu gave for losing the match, was that Bora gifted “books” (‘books’ and ‘lose’ are homophones in the Chinese language). Here, I recommend that you guys find out what that one specific book is. Which book? Of course the one that caused you all to score a goal. After that, tell me the title of the book. Before every match, I will gift ten copies of that same book to you. In that case, won’t you all be able to get a triumphant 10:0 win over your opponents every time?” An excerpt taken from Tony Twain’s special column in a certain famous Chinese sports newspaper.

(Note: This is a Chinese translate novel)

When Lu Mingfei was applying for a foreign university, he received an invitation letter from Cassel College, a private university in the outer suburbs of Chicago. Under the call of mystery, under the choice of love and dream, he resolutely chose the unknown future. Black helicopters flew across the sky, the gate of a strange country was slowly opened to him: The door of becoming a dragon slayer.

Another name for this novel is:
Dragon's Raja

Irene was sitting at her office desk looking at some documents when her office phone rang. It was her secretary.
- Miss Irene, the lawyer you were waiting is here.
- Send him in. Oh, and Miss Lena please tell everyone that we are gonna have a meeting in half an hour. Make sure everyone is in the conference room.
- Sure thing, Miss Irene. Anything else?
- Not at the moment. Thank you.

   A few moments after she ended her conversation with her secretary, Irene heard a knock on the door.
- Come in. She said as she got up from her chair and walked to the door to welcome the lawyer in.
- Good morning, Miss Irene. The lawyer said.
- Good morning, Mr. Hunter. Please take a sit. Do you want a coffee or tea?
- Tea will be fine. Thank you.
- Miss Lena, please bring a cup of tea to my office.
- Yes, Miss Irene.
- I guess you know everything Miss Irene.
- Indeed, I know. My fiance explained it to me. I know what to do. You just have to follow my lead Mr. Hunter. There is one thing that you need to know. My fiance's sister is working here as well. So, please be careful not to tell her who the real building owner is. 
- Don't worry Miss Irene. The secret is safe with me.
- Thank you. Now, it's time for us to go meet with the employees. Said Irene as she got up, took a folder from her desk and walked with the lawyer to the conference room.

   As they were about to reach the conference room, the lawyer was shocked at the fact that no sound or talking came out the conference room.
- Don't be to shocked Mr. Hunter. I told the employees not to speculate anything before letting them know the situation. Let's go inside.
- Good morning, everyone.
- Good morning, Miss Irene.
- I will get straight to the point. Irene said as she and the lawyer went to sit down at the table.
- First off all, the owner sold the company as he moved out to another country. He gave us two months to move our stuff from the company and finish editing and publishing the books we have left. Second off all, I arranged for everyone interviews to another company and in the envelopes in front of you are recommendation letters from me if you want to go to another company for interview.
- Sis, how come for me there isn't a recommendation letter? Asked Jack with a frown.
- You keep forgetting that at the company before being your sister I am your boss. So, if you don't want having the other eye black you better behave.
- But, sis... I mean Miss Irene. Even if you are the boss you can't act that way towards me.
- What ever I say it stays that way. I didn't gave you the recommendation letter or even arrange an interview for you because since you're too lazy and I want you to find a job on your own without my help. So, stop talking. You already ruined your image in front of everyone.
- Sis, please...
- Don't make me repeat myself. Miss Lena, any news from Bree?
- No, Miss Irene. Miss Bree still doesn't answer the phone.
- Keep trying.
- How come you only show concern for Bree? I'm your brother.
- Stop complaining. You're too full of yourself that you don't see when others care for you. Now. go outside. I had enough of you. And, don't slam the door as you get out.
- Okay, okay. Said Jack who stopped his track as soon as he heard the last line Irene said to him before leaving the conference room.
- Now, let's continue our meeting.

***

   Bree woke up late because of her "nightmare". It was 11 AM when she reached the office. As she went in she clashed together with someone. That someone was Jack. Seeing that the person Jack clashed in was Bree he took her by the hand and dragged her after him and went outside the building. He only stopped when they reached a park near by.
- If you don't let go of my hand this instant I'll make sure you'll have both eyes black.
Seeing that Jack doesn't show any reaction Bree really punched him with her free hand.
- Sis, why did you do that? 
- Bree how come you're here? Where is my sister? I thought it was her that hit me. Jack asked her as he recovered from his thoughts.
- Look around you. You were the one who brought me here. You better get your things straight. Said Bree as she turned around to go back to the office.
Seeing Bree leaving, he run after her, stopping in front of her saying:
- Bree, you've changed. You look more alluring. But I still like the old you. When are you going to cook for me again? I miss your food a lot. Look I got so skinny since I haven't eaten the food that you make anymore.
- What? Should I make you taste my punch again? You have your fiancee to cook for you. Leave me alone.
- You know that she doesn't know how to cook. She is trying, but her food doesn't taste like yours.
- That's not my problem.
- Bree, please...
- I can't believe you. You only care about the food I make. Did you ever thought about my feelings? This is the last time I'll tell you this: "I WILL NEVER COOK FOR YOU AGAIN!" Don't test my patience. You don't know me at all. You never tried to know me, the real me. I'm going back to the office. Don't try to follow me or you will meet with my punch again. As she finished saying that she turned around and left leaving Jack in a trance again.

***

   Bree didn't had a chance to relax since she got back to the office. The other girls asked her if she can cook for the last party they gonna have at this place. As she was about to refuse them, since she doesn't want Jack eat her food again, she heard chef Leo saying:
- How about I cook for you instead?
- Wow. Chef Leo that would be awesome. Screamed the girls together.
- Bree, you don't mind do you for chef Leo cook for us?
- No, of course not. I'm glad.
- Yes. Then is settled. Bree can you go with chef Leo to buy the ingredients for the food he wants to make since you know more than us? Asked one of the girls.
- Of course, she will come with me. You girls go and prepare the table for the party. Bree let's go. Chef Leo said as he grabbed her by the hand before changing her mind and went to the closest store to buy the necessary ingredients for the dishes he planned to do. As they walked back, chef Leo felt that Bree squeezed his hand hard making him stop. He then turned to face her, put the grocery bags down and hugged her saying:
- Bree, I know that you're hurt right now, but can you consider the fact about coming with me to Italy? I know it's to soon, and you don't know me, but I would like a chance with you. For you I'm willing to show my bare face without the mask to the whole world. I love you.
- Chef Leo, thank you for loving me. But I can't come with you. I don't want to hurt you. I still love him and I tried to forget him by spending time with you, but is no use, I still can't forget about him.
- Baby I know. But I won't give up on you. Said chef Leo before kissing her on the lips. Since it might be the last kiss between them he put all his feeling in it, deepening the kiss. He didn't care if the people on the street were looking at them, he wanted to make this moment be stored deep inside his memory. As they both were left breathless, they broke the kiss and without taking their eyes from each other, both of them began laughing seeing that the people around them were looking at them as they were watching a romantic movie at the cinema. So, they took their grocery bags and run to the office where the girls were expecting them not knowing what took them so long to come back...

Bree is crazy about food. She is ready to create the perfect love recipe. Add to that an italian chef, a french girl, a mysterious playboy uncle who hides in the shadows as a final touch to make the recipe better. But there are secrets that can change the whole recipe concept and everyone wear a mask of their own.

Death, a Biography, is a fictional horror novel. It is crass, violent, profane, and not meant for the light hearted reader. Imagine living in a world surrounded by fools. For years your frustration grows, and no matter what you try to do you cannot free yourself from the preverbal ideocracy. Nom DePlume is just such a man, only one day he is granted the dearest wish of his heart. Nom, a grad student working as a truck driver is: intelligent, well educated, and the sort of person who always can find a reason to have a chip on his shoulder. One day while driving in Texas he finds that he has the ability to wish death on those he hates. Being scientifically minded, Nom proceeds to experiment searching out the scopes of his new found powers. He begins in Texas, a state he despises. As he moves on from each experiment, he picks his prey to match some facet of modern western life that he hates. Each receive a fate customized to match what Nom feels they did wrong. Nom then travels home to Michigan after initially defining his new role in life. In Michigan he uses his powers to settle a few old scores and family business. A run-in with an old friend convinces him that he is being selfish for not using his god like powers to better mold humanity. The end of the book sees him taking on the leader of the free world. Nom now personifying Death, learns that he has a true foe, Life.Nom will return.

Aubrey was done with the interview after an hour. She was quite content when the questions did not revolve around her relationship with Jordan. The questions were actually very interesting as the interviewer asked her about her views and her upcoming projects. 
"You did great." Austin high-fived Aubrey once she was done. She had this huge smile on her face. She was really happy with the interview that it changed her mood. "You've got a long day tomorrow, are you ready for it?" 
"I am! I already wrote three more songs that we can check together tomorrow!" she said excitedly. Aubrey trusted her manager and she likes to ask for his opinion regarding everything. It was more of a brother-sister relationship to her than a relationship of co-workers.
"Aren't you a hard-working girl?" He playfully ruffled her hair, making her giggle. 
"Hey! I could do the same to you, but you hate it when people touch your hair." She pouted as they walked together. 
"I can accept anything from you," he told her with a smile on his face.
"Oh, I feel flattered." Aubrey dramatically touched her heart. 
"How's everything with Jordan?" he wondered, giving her a bottle of water while he took one for himself. 
Aubrey stayed silent for a few moments not knowing if she should give him updates about her personal relationship with Jordan or not. She felt like whatever they had resembled a red zone; nobody was allowed in but them. They were the experts of this explosive area and nobody shall interfere but them to avoid any upcoming disasters. 
"Everything seems cool." She had a genuine smile on her face as she said that. 
"Even after the whole video thing?" Austin's surprise was evident in his question. 
"Surprisingly, yes. I was affected at first, terribly affected, but I'm not anymore. There is this side of him that makes me forget about the whole video incident." Aubrey failed to notice that, but she had this dreamy look in her eyes when she talked about Jordan. 
"Do you like him?" Austin asked her directly. The question startled her even though she had been asked the same question before. Each time she had been asked that question she got nervous and her heartbeats increased. 
"I…I don't know. I don't think so," she lied. She liked him. A lot. She was aware of that and she was more than sure of her feelings, but a voice inside her head always told her to keep it to herself for the time being. 
"Just take good care of yourself. Save yourself for the one who deserves you," he advised her. 
"Aren't you great at giving advice?" Aubrey beamed, looking up at him with her big blue eyes then she hugged him from aside. 
"I will see you tomorrow," he said, hugging her back. 
"See ya." She waved at him as he left. She went to grab her belongings from the room where she kept them then she made her way out of the building and straight to her car. To her luck, the street where she parked her car wasn't well-lit. The interview took longer than expected and it did not start at three, so it was getting a bit dark. 
As she was about to get in her car, she felt somebody moving quickly behind her. She turned around to take a look, feeling a little disturbed. Aubrey did not have enough time to react. Suddenly she was roughly slammed against her car and the one who slammed her shouted, "Didn't I tell you to stay away from Jordan?" 
The poor girl fell to the ground, putting a lot of weight on her wrist. The man broke the driver's window of her car and ran away, leaving her terrified and on the ground. Once she started grasping what had just happened to her, she started crying and breathing heavily. 
Without thinking, she reached for her phone in her bag and dialled Jordan's number with a trembling hand. She had to rely on her left hand since the right one was most probably sprained or even fractured.  
Jordan picked up quicker than she imagined and she was quite thankful for that. "What's wrong?" She could sense the worry in his voice on hearing her cry. "Bree, I need you to calm down. What's going on?" He was being understanding and patient. 
"I w-was…I have j-just been a-attacked! I'm scared!" She whimpered. 
"Where are you? Did you call the police?' he asked her. 
"I didn't call anyone but you." She sobbed. "Please come quickly," she begged him then she told him where she was. 
"I'll call the police and I'll be there quicker than you imagine," he informed her. By that time, he was already in his car. He did not even have the time to tell his brother what happened. "Look, I'm going to hang up now to call the police then I will call you again, yeah? Love you, Bree." He didn't realize what he said to her before hanging up. As promised, Jordan called her back and stayed with her on the line for five minutes before he arrived. While she was on the phone with him, people passed by and asked her if she was okay. Since she didn't want any attention, she always said yes. He was able to arrive before the police officers.
She was still on the ground and glass was around her. The moment he spotted her, he ran to her and took her in his arms. She was still holding her wrist with her other hand. She sobbed in his arms as he caressed her long hair. 
"Hey, it's okay. You're safe," he murmured and kissed her forehead. He could feel her shake in his arms. "Bree, love. Look at me, please." He cupped her cheeks as she looked at him. "You're fine, yeah? You're safe. Nobody is going to hurt you." He kept repeating those words, attempting to convince her that she was okay. 
The police arrived along with an ambulance. The police officer waited for a couple of minutes until Jordan was able to calm Aubrey down. 
"Are you okay, Miss Devlin? I'm Officer Clarke," the police officer asked her. 
"My hand hurts. I fell on it," she replied in a quiet voice. 
"Let's get it checked at first then we can know what happened," Officer Clarke said, earning a soft nod from the shaken girl before her. The paramedic checked her eyes at first to see if she had a concussion or not and luckily, she didn't. 
"Her wrist is definitely sprained, she needs to go to the hospital," the paramedic told Jordan who did not leave Aubrey's side. She wanted him to be there, she was holding onto him like a lost child. 
"I'll take her right away." Jordan nodded as he held her other hand. 
"Can you tell us what happened now?" one of the police officers asked her. She nodded and started telling him what happened in detail. "You couldn't see his face?" Officer Clarke asked her. 
"No, he was hiding his face with a mask. He was wearing black clothes…but his eyes were brown and he was white," she said, wrapping Jordan's jacket more around her body.  
"Unfortunately, these are not enough information to find that man." One of the officers shook his head. 
"She has been getting threats," Jordan blurted as Aubrey was too nervous to inform the police about that. She wasn't in the best state of mind to think clearly. "On Valentine's day, she received a teddy bear with a message saying 'one day you'll be mine' and the signature was letter J. Today, she received a letter with no signature." 
"Where is that letter?" Officer Clarke asked. 
"In my car," Aubrey answered. "In the armrest." Clarke went to Aubrey's car and she did find the letter.
"This is disturbing. You should've reported this the moment you got it," one of the three officers commented.
"She's getting a bodyguard. We'll take all of the necessary precautions," Jordan talked with the police on Aubrey's behalf. She was silent as she was still shaken up.
"We will take all of the necessary measures to ensure your safety, Miss Devlin. You should go to the hospital now," Officer Clarke said. Aubrey muttered a small 'thank you' before she looked up at Jordan.
"I already called somebody to tow your car. It will be taken to a service center I know. You don't need to worry about anything, okay? I will take care of everything. Let's get your wrist checked," he spoke softly to her. After the car was towed, Jordan took her to the hospital where she was told that she'd need to wear a cast for two weeks; luckily, it was not broken. During the whole time, Jordan was with her and she indeed found comfort in his presence. 
"I'm taking you home with me if you don't mind. Maria said she'd be out all night and I don't think you should be left alone," Jordan told her as they got in his car. 
"I don't want to be alone," she said, looking down at her hands. "I'll come with you."
 The whole ride was silent, but not because they were on bad terms. Aubrey ended up falling asleep in the car. She was pretty exhausted from the crying and the stress. Jordan did not like the idea of waking her up, so he ended up carrying her inside his place. He carefully put her on the couch and put a pillow under her head. She looked stressed in her sleep. Her features were not as relaxed as usual. She was thinking about what happened even in her sleep.
Jordan remembered her saying before that she loved pizza, so in order to make it up to her, he ordered three types of pizza since he did not know what her favourite one was. He also ordered coleslaw and mozzarella sticks because she loved them.
Once the food arrived, Jordan went to wake her up. "Bree…wake up," he cooed as he gently tapped her shoulder. She slowly fluttered her eyes and started looking around. "You're at my place," Jordan informed her. Aubrey nodded and sat up on the couch. 
��You got us pizza." She smiled at him, holding her hurt wrist with her other hand. 
"I thought you deserve something good to brighten your day," he told her. 
"Trust me, it was all good until the attack." She frowned. "You were right! I'm weak…I need a bodyguard," she grumbled, looking down. "It definitely is my flaw."
"First of all, let me apologise. I'm really sorry for telling you that being weak is your flaw. It's not. It's okay to be weak and it's not like you're the weakest person I know. You can't take this incident as a proof for your weakness because you were taken by surprise," Jordan spoke, making her look at him with her beautiful blue eyes. 
"I know what my flaw is." She sighed. "I don't own up to my weakness. I always run away from it, because I'm tired of being viewed as weak, so instead of actually facing what I hate about myself, I chose to be in denial. How stupid is that? I guess my major flaw is running away from whatever I hate about myself instead of confronting it." 
"You're amazing," Jordan told her as he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her forehead, making her smile. "It's totally okay to have a flaw and it's even better to know what your flaw is." 
"I guess I need a bodyguard." She scrunched her nose at the thought.
"No need to worry about that. I'll handle everything. Now, let's eat," he said, handing her a slice of pizza. He was glad that he managed to draw a smile on her face after seeing her cry; it was something he definitely dreaded.  

Aubrey Devlin is a newbie in Hollywood, but she's climbing up the stairs of fame at a high speed. When Aubrey's favourite singer and actor, Jordan Hill, surprises her at one of the most famous TV shows her life would turn upside down. Life won't be the same for either of them. Happiness will be there, but so is sadness. Slowly, they'd fall for each other, but fate has its certain way to test their relationship. 
Would they survive? 

Read In the spotlight and satisfy your need for drama, because this story is filled with love, betrayal, drama and all what you might think of.

Wednesday morning, Elise decided to wear her hair down. The days were starting to get cooler, so she wore a soft tunic sweater that hung down past her hips. It was a maroon cotton knit fabric that, when stretched, showed gaps between the knitting. Underneath it, Elise wore a brown spaghetti strap tank and a pair of tight skinny jeans.
Finnegan met her at her locker again, and she was glad that this had become a regular occurrence with him. No matter how much time she got to spend with him. close like this, she never got tired of seeing his figure ahead in the crowd, waiting by her locker, waiting for her.
"Good morning!" Elise said cheerily, smiling up at him while holding the straps of her backpack at her shoulders.
"Good morning!" He smiled back brightly. "I stayed up late last night after I got your text..." he paused trying to find the right words, "I...wrote you something. A note, but...more like a letter."
Elise inhaled and held her breath in anticipation, taking in what he was telling her. Finnegan was holding a book and two notebooks in his arms. He took the notebook wedged in the middle out and handed it to her. "Don't let anyone else read it. I meant it only for you." She took the notebook from him, looking wide-eyed first at the sacred tome he placed in her hand, then at the pleading look on his face.
The hallway started looking emptier, so he just said, "I'll see you at lunch. I gotta go." With that, he turned and hurried away. Clutching the note book to her chest, Elise hurried away, in the opposite direction to her class as well.
There wasn't an opportunity to even open the notebook during First period. Elise was in shock that Finnegan personally wrote her a note that was 'only meant for her.' Besides that, the teacher lectured all through class, and the person behind her was frantically trying to copy Elise's notes. She was dying to read it. Her hand would rest on the edge of the notebook that peeked out from under her English book, tempted to read it under her desk, but never finding the courage.
Second period dragged on too, but fortunately there was extra time before the bell for students to read silently to themselves. Elise opened the notebook while her blood beat in her ears. As she read his words, she smiled sitting upright rigidly, shaking with the excitement of everything.
He does like me! Not being able to think about anything else, she began composing her reply letter.
"Finn,
You have no idea how happy I am to know that you feel that way. I have a confession..."
Elise debated on if she should tell him she had admired him from a distance for a year already, but she didn't really think she should focus on that. He wanted to spend time with her. That was all that mattered. She erased the last sentence and tried again.
"I have to confess that I enjoy your company just as much. I would love to watch a movie with you and your family, or sit by the fire in the backyard sometime. My mom actually told me last night that if I planned to see you after the science project is over that she wants to meet your parents. I've never felt so hopeful."
The bell rang, and she wasn't finished. She had so much more to say, and now it was lunch time. He might not want to talk about it with Kimber and Ashley and Weston around, but maybe she could finish it by the end of the day. Plus, after lunch, they had class together, and he was going to drive her home again.
Elise took her time walking to her locker. Finnegan was there. She could tell he wanted to know if she had read it and what she thought, but he didn't ask her about it.
"I," she started to say. He stopped walking and looked at  her, holding his breath. "I am working on writing a reply, but it's not done yet." She timidly hugged herself as she stood in front of him trying to communicate with her eyes.
His eyes widened in revelation of the fact that she was writing back, then he smiled an open-mouth smile of relief. "Oh, that's great! Uh, take your time. That's the great thing about it. We don't need to rush to say it all on the spot. Can I drive you home again?" We resumed our walk toward the cafeteria, with other students loudly clamoring around us to greet their friends and get  to the cafeteria.
I nodded. He made a fist and punched his elbow downward, "Yes!" We stood in the lunch line together and arrived to the table together. Kimber and Ashley waved Elise over to their side of the table again. and Weston gave Finn a smirking look.
Ashley talked the whole time about all the things they would do during the sleepover. Finnegan and Elise tried to act naturally, but they kept sneaking glances in the other's direction. Everyone at the table noticed. Weston silently congratulated him. Kimber and Ashley shared a look, but never said anything. They just continued to rattle on about their weekend plans.
After lunch, Finnegan and Elise walked together, first stopping by Finnegan's locker briefly, then Elise's, since their next period was Science.
Once the bell rang to start class and the class settled in to discuss with their partners on their projects, Finnegan and Elise sat nervously across from each other not knowing what to say. Finnegan had already written out his thoughts and hopes. Elise was working on a reply. Finally, thinking it best to just jump in and say something, Elise opened up her folder and said, "So, we already have one project complete, and the other one we will finish tomorrow. I have one page left in the packet and then I have to write my essay. What about you?" She looked up at Finnegan.
Feeling relieved that she broke the silence, he pulled out his folder too and said, "Um, I think I have one or two pages left and my essay topic, but I haven't started writing it yet."
"Ok, what's your topic?"
"I'm gonna write about water molecules. I'm gonna talk about why water is so unique and important for all life. I figured it would be easier if I wrote about one project and you could write about the other. That way we already have  the research done. We only have to write 500 words. That's like one page."
"Ok," Elise said, nodding her head, "that sounds good. We could work on the essay now, and after we finish the other project tomorrow we can proof each other's essay and finish the packet, if you want."
"Ok, good plan." They both took out their notebooks and pencils and moved everything else off the desk. "Hey," Finnegan whispered, leaning in closer to Elise.
She leaned in instinctively following his lead, looking at him questioningly.
"Do you think Kimber and Ashley noticed anything at lunch?" he whispered.
Elise thought back and didn't remember. She was only halfway listening to Ashley because she couldn't stop thinking about all the things she wanted to say in her note.
"I don't know, they didn't say anything about it," she whispered back. She wondered if Finnegan wanted to keep what was happening between them a secret forever. "Did Weston say anything?" she asked.
"Oh, yeah, he picked up on it. I didn't deny it, but I wanted to give you the notebook first."
"Oh. I'm gonna finish my note next period in the library." She leaned back and in a normal tone she said, "So," she smiled and let out a quick sigh, "I guess we should try to get our essays done." She sat back in her desk and poised her pencil above her notebook.
Finnegan sat back and they both worked until the bell, smiling to themselves and glancing across the desk at each other now and then. Neither of them could really concentrate on the words they wrote because they could only think of what they really wanted to say to each other.
Finnegan walked her to the library and went to his last period in a very good mood. Elise set up a workspace at the library front desk. She pulled the notebook out and read over his note again. Then she read what she had written so far. She skipped a line and continued where she left off.
"I hope my mom likes your parents. She is pretty strict, but I'm an only child. My mom works really hard, and I don't want her to worry, but I really like you. If the meeting between our parents goes well, I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you pick me up in the mornings. 
I think it's really cool that you're Pagan. As for reading my tarot, that would be ok. Would you teach me more about it? I thought about what we were talking about the other day, about religion. I think I want to know more about your beliefs. And not just because I like you (that's a bonus) but I like the way you explain things.
 I am thinking of trying out a new style. My mom is taking me shopping for my birthday, and I was going to ask Kimber and Ashley about it this weekend. Anyway, I'm glad we're doing this. Writing notes to each other. I can't wait to read more notes from you.
Elise."
Elise signed her name with a flourish. She almost dotted the 'i' in her name with a heart, but she didn't dare start being too cutesy with him until he officially asked her to be his girlfriend. She wanted to call him something sweet, like 'Darling' or 'Baby,' but she would wait. She sat back and looked over the note again before adding,
"P.S. Should I just call you Finn instead of Finnegan? I noticed you signed your note that way, and I was just wondering."
She closed the notebook and looked at the clock. Twenty minutes before she would see Finnegan again. She took out the novel she always carried with her and leaned back in her seat to read until the bell. After about five minutes, she heard the door chime as someone came into the library, setting her book aside and scooting forward to greet the patron, thinking it was just someone who came to return a book. She looked up and there was Finnegan.
"Hey," he said casually. Elise's mouth dropped open in surprise. "I got permission to come to the library for the rest of class since I finished my homework in class. Mr. Thomas is grading assignments, so we were just working quietly anyway."
"Hey," she finally said. "I just finished my note. I'm glad to see you." They smiled stupidly at each other and looked away shyly, still grinning from ear to ear. She slid the notebook off the edge of the desk and handed it to him. 
"I'm going to close down the computer lab in," looking up at the clock on the wall, then back at Finnegan, "five minutes. Then I can come sit with you on the couch until the bell." 
"Ok," holding the notebook at his side and turning, "I'll just sit over here and wait." He settled on the couch and, still smiling but trying to keep his body language casual, he opened the notebook to read her response. 
Elise opened her book again, but she didn't read it. She held it open in front of her and watched Finnegan peripherally until she had to get up to close up the lab. She leaned into the Librarian's office and told her she had finished. Then she packed up her stuff and walked over to the couch. There was only a couple minutes left before the bell rang. He had finished reading her note and was already writing a response to her. When she walked up, he closed the notebook and put it in his bag. 
"The bell is about to ring," she told him. 
"Ok." She sat on the edge of the couch next to him, leaving about five inches between them. She had her backpack on, so she couldn't scoot back all the way, but she was ready to be alone with him in his car. "Do you need to go to your locker?" They held each other's gaze and didn't even flinch when the bell rang.
Standing and grinning, Elise said, "Nope, all set. Let's go." He stood and they walked so closely together their shoulders bumped with every other step all the way to his car. 
When they were out of earshot of other students, Finnegan said, "I haven't ever told you, but you look cute everyday. Today is no different." They reached his car, and feeling chivalrous, Finnegan opened the car door for Elise. She chuckled shyly, taking off her backpack.
"Thank you," she said before getting in. She could hardly breathe. He ran around the car and threw his bag in the backseat before getting in himself.
They pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward her house.
"You know, I think you're cute too. I have for a while." Elise sat with her knees together while, arms straight, her hands fidgeted nervously at the edge of her lap.
"I didn't want to say anything until, I knew for sure, but do you..." he paused. Elise didn't breathe. "I mean, can I call you my girlfriend?" 
He was expecting to be held in anticipation once the words left his mouth, but Elise answered right away. "Yes! I mean, I would really like that."
He let his hand drop to the center console, loosely holding it open, palm up. Taking his cue, Elise splayed her hands hoping her pants would dry the sweat on them. She reached over with her left hand, touching his fingertips to hers before sliding her fingers between his. He closed his fingers over her hand, and she reflexively curled her fingertips under his hand.
Her body trembled. She was Finnegan's girlfriend! Her love lifted to a new level. She never wanted to let go of his hand, and she wouldn't have if her phone hadn't rang. She reluctantly took back her hand and dug her phone out of her backpack. Finnegan rested his hand back on the steering wheel, letting it slide down until the back of his hand touched the top of his thigh.
 She didn't recognize the number, but she answered it before the call dropped.
"Hello?"
It was the manager of Subway. He wanted her to come in for an interview! She told him she would meet him as soon as her mom got home from work and could drive her. When she hung up the phone she sat back, unbelieving wonder written all over her face.
"You got a job?" Finnegan asked holding his hand out for her again. "That's great!"
She held her phone with her right hand in her lap, and took his hand again with her left. "Yeah, thanks, well it's just an interview. But I didn't expect it so fast. I just applied yesterday."
"Do you want me to drive you? We can turn around." They were already almost to her house. Elise wanted to stay here in his car forever, holding his hand, but she knew there would be more chances to hold his hand, especially after her mom met his parents.
"I would say yes, but I know my mom would want to take me. Thank you though." They pulled down the driveway. "I'll see you tomorrow though, and I'm coming over after to finish our project."
Finnegan pulled into the spot he parked in before, and let her hand go to shift gears. He laced his hand with hers again, but more securely this time. Giving her hand a squeeze, he said, "Alright. I'm going to write you a note tonight, but text me after the interview. I can't wait to see you again."
"Me too. I will." Finnegan unlaced his fingers from her hand and repositioned his so he could pull her hand to his face, and making eye contact with her, he pressed a kiss to the back of her fingertips. He let her hand go and was about to offer to get her door, but her mom drove down the driveway past his parked car.
"Ok, well I better go. Bye, Finn." Elise scrambled out of the car, partly because she was trembling from the soft kiss he planted on the back of her hand and partly because she didn't know if her mom had seen. She put on her backpack, and just before she closed the door, Finn yelled, "Good luck on the interview!"
Elise waved thanks at him before trotting off to greet her mom and ask her for a ride to Subway.

Elise is an average bookworm at a high school in a small town in Arkansas. Her crush, Finnegan, is a tall, dark, and mysterious type of boy who seems indifferent to nearly everyone, and everything. The one thing Elise knows about him is he is pagan. Elise receives a mysterious prophecy, which comes true when she interrupts a ritual Finnegan was performing and accidentally gets turned into a ball python. Now he has to let her into his world of paganism and mysterious power to try to fix his mistake. If she doesn't want to be a snake forever, she will have to learn how to cultivate her own power so she can shape-shift at will.

A muscular Orc secretary in office lady clothing walked in big strides as he carried two cups of bloody chrysanthemum tea. He placed the teacups on the table and nodded to Andrew and the Gnome reporter before leaving the office. 
"Dungeon Lord Andrew, thank you for your hospitality. I'm here to conduct a special interview."
The Gnome reporter was wearing large black-framed spectacles. He adjusted his spectacles and spoke politely.
"Of course, as the Winterfell Dungeon Lord, I'm honored to be interviewed by the media. You can ask whatever questions you want."
Andrew was gloating inside. Finally, a reporter came to interview him. He was going to be in the headlines tomorrow. He had already thought of a title for the newspaper—"Dungeon Lord Andrew, a good Dungeon Lord who cares for his residents". 
This represented his intention and achievements. The most important thing was that it told the truth.
"The first question is, what does Dungeon Lord Andrew think about Lord Sherlock, who is highly praised by everybody?" the Gnome reporter asked.
"Er, from an objective viewpoint, Lord Sherlock is a pretty good Devil Lord. From what I know, he has a Dungeon with 2,000 servants. As a new Dungeon Lord, it's a good achievement. As for Winterfell, we have a million residents in the Dungeon. As a Dungeon Lord, I have already planned in detail…" 
Just as Andrew was going to expound the details of his "Let Winterfell be great again" plan, he was interrupted by the reporter.
"Apologies, Dungeon Lord Andrew, my time is limited. I have to interview Lord Sherlock next. Please do not deviate from my questions. Is that alright?"
"Ah?"
"Good, next question, is Lord Sherlock…"
"Pom!"
The door was pushed open, and an Orc rushed in nervously and said, "Lord Andrew! Bad news!"
The Orc didn't stop because of the reporter. He shouted, "Dungeon Lord Andrew! An Orc village was attacked by Ogres! Lord Sherlock is fighting the Ogres with his brave warriors!"
"What!"
Andrew stood up immediately. The eyes of the reporter lit up, and he indicated his intention to leave. He was going to obtain the Orc village's location from the Orc later. 
Seeing the leaving back view of the reporter, Andrew raised his hand slightly…
"Come and pay me a visit next time," Andrew smiled and said to the reporter.
The Gnome nodded politely and hurried out.
Andrew looked grave. He turned to look at the agitated Orc and asked, "Which department is that? From where did you receive the news?"
"Dungeon Lord, it's the Publicity Department!"
The Orc said excitedly, "I just received an anonymous letter. After checking it, an Orc did come to Winterfell to request aid." 
"Let me take a look at the letter," Andrew extended his hand and said.
The Orc handed the letter to Andrew, who examined it. Then Andrew said, "Thank you for contributing to Winterfell. You may leave."
"Dungeon Lord, it's what I should be doing!" the Orc shouted excitedly before leaving.
Andrew threw a punch in the air. He gritted his teeth and finished the bloody chrysanthemum tea in one gulp. He was full of jealousy.
Why did Lord Sherlock help those Orcs? Why did his green-skinned creatures defeat the Ogres easily? Did Sherlock discover his plan and Michelangelo's relic? Did the Ogres divulge the secret?
That was despicable! Why was Sherlock so lucky?
Andrew wasn't resigned to fate, but he couldn't do anything. He wouldn't give up Michelangelo's relic. However, Winterfell already knew about the attack on the Orc village. He couldn't stand by and do nothing.
Though the situation was out of his expectation, Michelangelo's secret wouldn't be revealed to the public. He could make use of the Merchant Alliance's power to pretend to help the Orcs and restrain Sherlock at the same time. This was a feasible plan!
Who was the sender of the anonymous letter?
Was it Lord Sherlock?
…
"Report? No, no, no. Why would I report on myself? I mean, I wouldn't send out an anonymous letter. I'm indeed compassionate and will help the Orcs. I'm currently at the Orc village. It's no longer an urgent matter. I don't think it's necessary to publish it in the papers.
"What? Must you report on this good deed? No, no, it's nothing special!
"What? You're feeling the desire to join us against the Ogres? Aiya, I know you detest Ogres, but going into battle is precarious. I don't think it's suitable for you.
"Don't report it. Please don't report it. Eh? Please listen to me…"
After his futile attempts, Sherlock sent the Gnome reporter off to the Adventurer's Guild.
Then he went into deep thought.
"Is this Andrew's conspiracy? Or is some other creature helping Andrew?" Bru asked.
"Lord Sherlock, there must be a conspiracy!"
"I know, something's not right. The anonymous letter isn't from us. I don't think Andrew is putting on a show either, as he wouldn't take the risk."
Sherlock sighed and said, "Ai, we have already occupied the Orc village, and such a thing has to happen. Let the gamers inform Brainiac and see if they can transport Michelangelo's relic away."
"I understand, Lord Sherlock. I'll give the orders to the gamers," Bru said.
…
Transport away?
Brainiac looked at the huge chest in the pit and at the huge statue of a Devil beside the chest. He lowered his head and pondered.
"How can we transport such a large item?" 
The gamer before Brainiac was very excited. He received his reward and immediately returned to the battlefield.
The fighting spirit of the green-skinned creatures was extraordinary.


Sherlock is a new generation Dungeon Lord whose ambition is to become the greatest Devil King and building up the greatest Dungeon in the Underworld.
He summons a group of other-worldly goblins who give themselves strange names, form cliques, engage in commerce, and even fight among themselves.
They call themselves—Gamers!

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