Chapter 173 Chapter 172 Hunting the Minotaur (Part 1)
“The Marvelous Adventures of JoJo” is on sale today.
A banner hangs at the entrance of the Big Beard Printing House, just as dawn breaks. Store owners who had heard rumors of Big Beard obtaining an advance copy crowd the entrance of the printing house.
Previously, Big Beard had spread the news far and wide, confidently claiming that he had acquired “The Marvelous Adventures of JoJo” faster than the official version. He unabashedly insisted that his edition was the true official one.
Many believed him.
The printing house opened, and Big Beard personally haggled with the store owners.
Truckload after truckload filled with books left the warehouse.
Big Beard was all smiles; it was his first time selling books this way.
By morning, bookstores eagerly displayed the shoddy “The Marvelous Adventures of JoJo” on their shelves and booths, hanging banners proclaiming that the book was for sale.
Due to the very low price and the lack of profit for the author, coupled with his previously accumulated reputation,
the bookstores that primarily sold pirated books were flooded with customers. Readers, eager and desperate, rushed into the bookstores, hastily shoving coins into the hands of the owners to get their hands on a copy as quickly as possible.
The books sold out rapidly.
Many store owners regretted not ordering more books at that moment, as more and more people gathered at the entrance of the Big Beard Printing House.
Big Beard smiled so broadly his cheeks hurt; in less than half a day, a whole warehouse was cleared out. Fortunately, he had the foresight to print day and night, filling three warehouses in total.
Having gained a first-mover advantage, even the official books were slower than his own. By the time other pirated printing houses caught on, he had already devoured the juiciest piece of the market.
If this trend continues, the money earned today would not only compensate for the losses incurred when his printing house was burned down but also yield additional profits.
The news of “The Marvelous Adventures of JoJo” being completed spread throughout Adolf by noon, and major bookstores that had collaborated with Scholarly Publishing visited angrily to question the relevant personnel about why contracts were violated.
After a heated argument, they realized the original manuscript was missing. Irving Green had long since vanished without a trace; all that remained in his room was a letter filled with beautiful phrases that no one could understand, and they could not contact Ms. Ji. They could only watch helplessly as pirated books, masquerading as official ones, sold everywhere, raking in money.
…
…
All waiting would eventually bear fruit.
Even though Res was a magic apprentice attending the Imperial University sponsored directly by the Emperor’s magic department, and came from a fairly decent family, he belonged to the more affluent section of the citizen class.
However, Res had a habit of buying cheaper pirated versions.
The cost of books, teachers’ fees, and material expenses added up to a considerable burden, not to mention the costs associated with post-exam dinners.
Aside from dining and visiting the Moulin Rouge to find gentle women to soothe his homesickness,
he tried to save wherever possible, especially on lowbrow novels; if he could buy them cheaper, there was no need to buy the expensive versions.
Res opened the book, instinctively gripping the spine to prevent the poorly bound pirated version from losing pages, reading as he walked.
The familiar writing style and storyline lifted his spirits; his bad mood for the day vanished without a trace. Unbeknownst to him, he returned to the shared room with his classmates.
Res’s roommate was a stuffy Adolfian, attending the theology department, a devout and very traditional Sigma believer. He believed that labor must yield rewards, so he was foolish enough to buy the official novel himself and nag others to do the same.
“Really.”
Res muttered as he opened the door, and just as he passed his roommate’s door, he saw him sitting at the desk, sitting up straight, with incense lit, reading the official version of “The Marvelous Adventures of JoJo” Volume 1.
“Hey, old stick,” Res called to him, “the second volume is out; it’s the practical edition.”
“That’s the thief’s version,” the old stick replied without turning around. “As far as I know, many booksellers like to borrow the name of official books to sell fakes. The official book hasn’t even been released yet.”
“Come on, I know a store owner who has connections,” Res said. “How about I finish reading it and let you take a look, just to whet your appetite?”
“I’m not interested.”
“Just keep being your old stick.”
Res returned to his room, sitting on his bed, eager to continue reading.
Outside, the sun slowly sank, and Res lost track of time, flipping through the pages mechanically. As the pages dwindled down to four layers,
he turned a page, and the tone abruptly shifted.
Res couldn’t find the words to describe the feeling; the originally refreshing atmosphere vanished, replaced by malice and stench, like strolling through an endless grassland only to suddenly stumble into a treacherous deadwood forest.
Strangely, a hideous dwarf had appeared beside the protagonist, serving him like a lackey.
Res felt it was a bit odd but didn’t think too much and continued to turn the pages.
The protagonist defeated the charred dark elf leader, the Witch King, and held a victory feast with his wives. He took a fine drink from the dwarf servant, downed it in one go, only to find himself paralyzed, unable to move.
The ugly dwarf, right before his eyes, snatched away his hard-won honors and women, having already used a malicious spell to secretly target the protagonist’s wives.
And the protagonist could only watch helplessly.
“What’s this nonsense?” Res slammed his palm down on the bed, “Didn’t they say the protagonist is immune to poisons? Just a sip, and he’s done for?”
But trusting in the “author,”
Res felt that if he continued reading, he would surely see the protagonist exacting revenge on this despicable little man.
The ugly dwarf right before the protagonist was playing a riding game.
Res gritted his teeth and kept reading.
The ugly dwarf treated the protagonist as a source of magic, stealing his powers and taking away his achievements and honors.
Res’s teeth ground together sounding crack, crack as he continued reading.
The dwarf and the women forced the remaining unbowed wives… one of whom, known as the Dragon Lady, was pure and innocent, unaware of the situation, and the dwarf paralyzed her, deceiving her into thinking that he was the protagonist.
That chapter was titled “Dragon Knight.”
Res jumped up in anger, flinging the book aside and shouting, “What kind of crap is this?!”
The low-quality book instantly lost several pages.
Res took a deep breath, looking at the pages that had fallen to the ground, reminiscing about the joyous times he had while reading.
I don’t believe it; the protagonist must turn the tables later. Surely there will be some thrilling moments, it can’t be that torturous for the protagonist.
He bent down to pick up the book, pressed the pages back together, and continued flipping through.
Finally, the protagonist found an opportunity for revenge, breaking free from his cage, he charged out, ready to confront the dwarf—he was much stronger than the dwarf.
Res’s hands trembled, tears welling up, finally he held back; this feeling was as sweet as eating candy, he continued to turn pages.
But the dwarf, hanging on to his slim wife, made the protagonist falter, turning back into a battery.
Res clutched his chest and kept reading, his eyes darting over the lines.
In the end, the protagonist lost everything—his women, wealth, and fame, and was reduced to working as a laborer at the docks, making money to support the children of his ex-wives.
Res set the book down, his head shaking with rage.
Calm down, calm down, there’s no need to be so angry; it’s all fake…
He used the meditation technique taught by his teacher to regulate his emotions. For a mage, this was of utmost importance.
Meditation proved effective.
Res suddenly opened his eyes, glancing at the book beside him, and with a roar, like a northern berserker, he ripped the book into shreds and threw them out the window.
“What garbage of a novel!”
This exclamation echoed outside, as a tattered book fell from the window. Res approached the window and saw people above him throwing books, while residents on the third floor across the way were also throwing.
“Bro, are you reading ‘The Marvelous Adventures of JoJo’ too?”
“Yeah, it’s garbage!”
“Damn it, let’s go talk to the store owner!”
“Let’s go!”
Res angrily passed by his roommate’s room and saw him still reading. He shouted, “Stop reading! The author is literally shoving shit down our throats! There’s a dwarf who took everything from the protagonist!”
The old stick said, without turning his gaze, “It’s a pirated book; anything can happen in it.”
“It’s by one person.”
Res said, “I’m going to find the author and demand an explanation!”
Res stepped out and walked with a few nearby university students. Unfortunately, it was getting late, and they had to go back, but they made plans to gather at the university.
The next day.
The Imperial University was packed with people; the classrooms were empty, and the teachers weren’t holding classes.
Res encountered his teacher, a mage from the Academy of Light, who surprisingly rallied everyone to go demand an explanation from the author.
The excited students quickly took up their prepared weapons and surged into the streets.
They went from bookstore to bookstore selling “The Marvelous Adventures of JoJo,” asking who the white-haired individual was. During the inquiries, many students felt a wave of nausea at the sight of “The Marvelous Adventures of JoJo” and began to raise their swords to slash.
Before long, the uproar escalated to book burning; nearly all bookstores selling the second volume of “The Marvelous Adventures of JoJo” were set ablaze, except for a few partnering with Scholarly Publishing, as they had not sold pirated versions and thus avoided calamity.
This uproar directly attracted the attention of the City Guards, who rushed to the scene, discovering even the Empire’s battle mages were present. They found the situation complicated, and after a round of communication,
the officer suggested that the students better hold up a banner to express their demands, to avoid scaring the civilians.
Thus, the students raised banners saying “White-haired individual, come apologize” and “The bastard author must amend his writing,” and within an hour, a large number of citizens joined the ranks, collecting and burning the second volume of “The Marvelous Adventures of JoJo.”
Big Beard, still in his printing house, gazed at the beautiful numbers on the ledger, grinning as his mustache twitched.
He still had one warehouse of books left, which could be sold at a good price in the coming days, and he wondered how much he could sell today.
“Bang bang bang!”
A series of footsteps echoed as the door opened.
“Big Beard, it’s bad; a large group of people is coming!”
“It’s fine; I have plenty of books.”
“They’re holding torches and saying they want to burn your printing house down; you’d better run.”
“What?!”
Big Beard rushed to the window, only to see a mass of people outside, with young and vigorous readers climbing over the red brick wall one after another, charging towards him.
“Boom!”
The printing house’s door was blown open by magic, and a crowd surged in.
Big Beard’s legs turned to jelly with fear; he turned around and ran down the stairs.
“Over there!”
“That’s him; do you know where the white-haired individual is?”
“The one with the mustache; grab him!”
Big Beard jumped over the wall, running faster than a dog, with his printing house behind him beginning to emit wisps of black smoke.
