Chapter Thirty-Eight: Earning Destruction Points

Rented apartment.

Although it was only early evening, Chen Qi was already in the kitchen preparing dinner. Perhaps it was because he had just made another eight hundred thousand, his mood was excellent today, so he decided to treat himself to a good meal.

The marble countertop beside him was piled high with ingredients: fresh beef, lamb slices, cleaned tripe, crispy fried tofu, as well as kelp, enoki mushrooms, bean sprouts, and a variety of leafy greens. In the pot, a rich and fragrant corn, mushroom, and pork rib soup was simmering away.

On the dining table outside, he had even set out sodas and a selection of other drinks.

If Xu Buniang or any of those who knew him saw this scene, they would probably be left speechless in shock.

Eating hotpot alone was one thing, but to go through all the trouble to prepare it yourself?

Wasn’t it exhausting?

Of course, Chen Qi didn’t feel tired. He had long since vowed never to shortchange himself when it came to food.

Over an hour later, as night had just fallen, he began his sumptuous dinner, everything prepared to perfection.

Dining alone may look a little lonely and bleak, but to him, it was nothing unusual.

He ate this hearty meal over a long stretch of time, not stopping until he’d polished off nearly all the ingredients.

After he was sated, he opened his laptop to browse current events and entertainment news, then fell into thought.

What should he do next?

After pondering for a while, something suddenly occurred to him. He hurriedly opened the ring on his finger and looked to the lower right corner of the virtual screen.

[Destruction Value: 0]

Seeing this number, Chen Qi’s brow immediately furrowed.

Wasn’t there something wrong with this system? How could it still be zero? He’d spent a week stirring things up in the advertising world—even if he hadn’t caused any great upheaval, he must have disrupted their rules a little, right?

Not even a single point of Destruction Value? Was it this strict?

Chen Qi’s expression grew grim.

He suddenly felt an urgent need to break that zero. It was such an eyesore!

Who did this system think it was looking down on?

But how to break it? Was there an industry he could upend quickly?

He racked his brains.

Just then, a pop-up appeared on his laptop, advertising something about “The God of War Returns at a Single Command,” or something like that.

“Hm?” His eyes lit up.

A novel?

Of course—he could copy a novel for fun.

Although he’d often been so busy he barely knew night from day, he’d still read a few novels online and had a general idea of how the industry worked.

If he remembered correctly, most writers updated once or twice a day. Three updates a day was considered diligent, wasn’t it?

So what would happen if he did five, six, or even nine or ten chapters a day?

If he could keep it up and create a certain effect, that would certainly shake up their current rules, wouldn’t it?

He thought carefully and decided this was worth a try.

Excited, he opened the virtual screen and typed “novel” into the search bar.

Immediately, a flood of results appeared.

To his surprise, he didn’t recognize any of the titles—none were familiar or ones he’d read before.

Had he really been out of touch for that long?

He grumbled inwardly but didn’t dwell on it, quickly browsing the results.

Given what he knew of the system, he wasn’t worried about the quality of the books. If they weren’t good, the system wouldn’t have collected them.

Anything included here was top-notch. The system did have standards, after all.

Soon, he picked a title that caught his eye and boasted a high word count.

This book was called “Immortal World,” with over five million words. It told the story of a mortal who stumbled into the world of cultivation, armed with a cheat that let him escape at will, raising havoc in the immortal realm, repeatedly brushing the boundaries of disaster, yet always surviving against the odds.

Chen Qi flipped through it and found it truly compelling—so much so that he almost couldn’t put it down.

Then, he carefully researched the world’s major web novel platforms. Once he confirmed their rules were much like those on Earth, he registered an account on the largest and most popular site.

As for a pen name…

After a moment’s thought, he typed in “Student Chen.”

Looking at the successful registration page, Chen Qi began transcribing the novel from the virtual screen onto his laptop.

This so-called Destruction System was truly odd—it collected everything, yet didn’t provide a way to export anything.

All he could do was read from the system; he couldn’t extract the content directly.

Fortunately, he wasn’t a slow typist. In just twenty minutes, he’d copied nearly three thousand words—one full chapter.

He uploaded the first chapter, then continued furiously typing.

Second chapter…

Third chapter…

Fourth chapter…

One chapter after another was transferred from the virtual screen to his laptop.

By the time midnight rolled around, sixteen chapters were neatly lined up on his computer.

Rubbing his slightly sore fingers, Chen Qi mused to himself.

This pace… still feels a bit slow.

But there was no faster or better way, was there?

Never mind—he had plenty of time now, so there was no rush.

In any case, ten chapters and thirty thousand words a day was easily manageable for him.

After a quick wash, he drifted into a deep sleep.

The next day, fully recharged, he eagerly opened the author’s backend after breakfast, and was surprised to find a message that his novel had passed review and been added to the site’s library. He didn’t think much of it, simply continued uploading new chapters and returned to his work.

Whether it was the quality of the book or the efficiency of the platform, by the afternoon, when he logged in to upload the seventh chapter, he received a message offering him a contract.

After following the procedures and mailing back the contract, he continued his manic copying.

As for the private message suggesting he add the editor as a friend, he ignored it—his purpose for writing this novel was different, so there was no need to trouble anyone or waste their time.

Thus, for the next few days, he devoted nearly all his energy to this novel, uploading ten chapters and thirty thousand words a day.

In just three days, “Immortal World” had over ninety thousand words uploaded, dominating the top spot on the site’s update rankings.

What’s more, the update rankings were refreshed daily and competition was fierce—many authors would stockpile chapters for days, then unleash them all at once in a bid for first place.

Few could maintain their position for long; three or five consecutive days at the top was the limit for most.

But since its release, “Immortal World” had held first place for three straight days.