The Unquiet Life of a Webnovel Writer
Jennifer is 40, tired, and ready for a quiet life. But one Saturday afternoon, her landlady asks, “Do you believe we are all products of someone else’s stories?”
Suddenly, every unfinished wish-fulfillment fantasy Jennifer ever published starts moving into her apartment building.
An 18-year-old stud of an alpha werewolf? Nah, his Alpha Dad is definitely hotter. A golden-haired prince on a white horse? Wth, why was the horse in her lobby? And she distinctly remembers writing him a tsundere Duke of an Uncle.
Now the world is bending to accommodate her webnovels. “Why are all of you here, and why are you so inconvenient?”
And out of the blue, her childhood friend—older, wiser, and back from abroad—wants to pick up where they left off decades ago. “I’m very sure I didn’t write you.”
Oh, and the alien invasion outside her building? Yeah, she shouldn't have started the sci-fi LitRPG. 
Now the world is about to end. Jennifer is very, very sorry. 

Author’s Notice Regarding Narrative Deviations
This is a formal notice to inform all readers that the current story has deviated significantly from its originally stated premise.
The initial scope of the work included, but was not limited to:
	• Alpha werewolves requiring pack management
	• Interpersonal dynamics within supernatural hierarchies
	• The occasional prince dropping out of college
Said scope did not include:
	• Extraterrestrial involvement
	• Global-scale invasions
	• Alien roaches of any size or classification
The author acknowledges that such developments may be unexpected.
An apology is hereby issued for any confusion, emotional distress, or genre whiplash caused by these unforeseen circumstances.
In response to anticipated inquiries:
Q: “How were these events unforeseen? Aren’t you the author?”
A: The author maintains that she is, to the best of her knowledge, the author. However, narrative control appears to be, at present, a collaborative and loosely regulated process.
Characters have demonstrated a tendency to:
	• Act independently
	• Escalate situations without approval
	• Introduce plot elements of questionable necessity (see: alien roach invasion)
Readers are therefore advised that:
	1. The narrative may continue to evolve unpredictably.
	2. Genre boundaries are to be considered flexible.
	3. Any resemblance to a “cosy romcom” is purely coincidental at this stage.
By continuing, readers agree to accept the story in its current form, including all action, sci-fi elements, romantic developments, dramatic turns, and general chaos.
Thank you for your understanding.
— katisnow (provisionally in control)

Footnotes
[1] For readers seeking narratives that are marginally more well-behaved, you may refer to the author’s other works. While no guarantees are made, some stories have thus far refrained from introducing alien species without prior notice.
[2] “Well-behaved” is a relative term and may still include emotional damage, questionable life choices, and dramatic plot twists.
[3] The author accepts no responsibility if said “better-behaved” stories also spiral unexpectedly. Historical precedent suggests this is a non-zero possibility.

Duke Chevon straightened, the light behind him shifting as if the heavens themselves wished to bear witness.


"Since my youth," he began, voice calm but carrying, "I have had… a certain difficulty with women."


Jennifer blinked. A difficulty? That's one way to put it.


"They would fall," he continued, unbothered, "often before a proper introduction could be made."


"One day, a fortune teller crossed my path. She, too, was… afflicted."


"But before she succumbed," Duke Chevon went on, ignoring him, "she managed to deliver a single message—'True love waits.'"


"She pressed a card into my hand," he said, slower now. "On its reverse… was a name."


Jennifer felt a sudden, terrible premonition.


"When I first met Miss Jennifer Margaret Lee," Duke Chevon said, turning his gaze toward her, "I knew there was something… different."


"She was not the first Margaret I had encountered," he admitted, "but she was the first who did not faint."


"She smiled," he continued, softer now, "and there was a kindness about her. Gentle. Unassuming. Like moonlight."


"For a time," he said, "I believed this to be romantic destiny."


The MLs shifted slightly. Adrian watched with interest. Alpha Drake nodded like this all made perfect sense.


"My feelings were never those of a man for a woman."


"They were those of a man for something far greater."


"My true love," he said, solemn and unwavering, "is devotion."


"To serve," he continued, "not a woman—but a goddess. To stand as her sword, her shield, and her will upon this earth. To protect both her and the nation she watches over."


"If my life must be given in her service, then it will be given gladly."


The fortune teller's card was supposed to say Magnolia.


He was supposed to meet his true love under blooming magnolia trees one fateful night. It was meant to explain why Prince Angus's uncle remained unmarried—while still giving readers hope that he would eventually find love in the most romantic setting.


Not becoming some holy knight in a goddess cult founded by Adrian and a pack of insane wolves.


Chapter 63 - The Duke's Confession