The Changes

He was originally an ordinary novelist, eking out a living on meagre royalties, and no one took any notice of him. One day, he discovered that what he wrote could change reality. This excited him immensely.

He believed that this would change his life. At first, a glimmer of kindness in his heart led him to write that there would be no more war in the world. Sure enough, when he looked at the television, there was breaking news: all countries around the world had ceased all forms of armed conflict.

His heart was beating so fast it felt like it was about to jump out of his chest. He now felt like a creator god.

This sudden divine power left him unsatisfied.

He felt that he could no longer directly write about such major events, but he had finally earned others' admiration. He had gained some fame through his writing, secured a spacious apartment in the city centre, and married a beautiful and virtuous wife. After a moment of dizziness, he was surprised to find himself sitting in the apartment building rather than his old dilapidated rental house. His beautiful and virtuous wife was preparing dinner, and he felt a happiness he had never experienced before. But after a while, he realised this was not enough to satisfy him. Now that he had this ability, why not do something big?

He wrote that he was a billionaire, controlling the majority of shares in most companies around the world, living in the most luxurious estate on Earth, and even gave himself a hundred wives. To his surprise, after a moment of dizziness, he found himself sitting in the world he had created. Money, mansions, beautiful women—everything was there.

He was not satisfied with this and began to let his imagination run wild. He wrote down that he had superhuman abilities, then jumped with all his might and flew into the air. He truly became a superhero. At that moment, he felt as though he were dreaming. Then, a more sinister thought entered his mind. He landed on the street, pulled out a handgun, and began firing at the people on the street. Those hit fell to the ground. It was his first time killing someone, but he felt no remorse. He believed that since he had such powerful abilities, he might as well turn this world—no, the entire universe—into his playground. He wrote: All the beautiful women, gold, jewels, luxury cars, and wealth in this world—everything—belonged to him, and he also demanded an unlimited supply of ammunition.

He began dispatching troops to indiscriminately bomb major cities, while he himself fired machine guns at civilians. He found this exhilarating. Over the course of a month, he employed every possible method to kill everyone on Earth. He felt unsatisfied, believing that the Creator deserved more than this, yet he was too arrogant to simply destroy everything. He created another Earth and began a new round of slaughter. Resistance occurred from time to time, but in his presence, all efforts were in vain.

He was no longer human. He created and slaughtered, created and slaughtered, endlessly repeating the cycle with relish. But at that moment, he suddenly felt that his sense of taste had failed him. He discovered it while eating a delicious meal—his sense of taste had completely vanished. He tried to restore his sense of taste, but he failed. Next came his sense of smell, then his hearing, and even his vision began to deteriorate slowly. Additionally, an inexplicable pain spread throughout his body, as if he were being burned by a raging fire.

He screamed in agony, roaring with rage, wanting the entire universe to perish with him.

He painfully picked up the pen and tremblingly wrote something on the paper. With every word he wrote, the entire world, and even the entire universe, was constantly being destroyed and then rebuilt. All of his senses had long since been stripped away. He was simply writing with his last remaining muscle memory. At the last moment, he writhed in agony until he lost even the sensation of pain. He entered an endless void. He could no longer write; his physical body was dead. His soul was trapped within this decaying shell, forever.

The next day, his body was found in a dilapidated rented room, and the cause of death was determined to be overwork.

a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a aa a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a a v